The One Real Thing
Page 79
“Doc, I got a problem,” he said without saying hello.
I immediately went on alert. “Oh?”
“Archie is here. He’s not drinking, though. Just sitting at the bar, looking depressed as all hell. It’s something about Anita, and I’m guessing you have an idea what’s going on. Any chance you could get away to come down and talk to him?”
Obviously things with Anita were as I’d suspected. “Of course. I’ll be right there.”
“Everything okay?” Mona said as I got off the phone.
“I’m not sure. Do you mind if I head out for a bit?”
“No problem. I’ll get finished here and lock up front for you.”
“Thanks, Mona.” I gave her shoulder a squeeze. Despite her control-freakery in the kitchen, she’d turned out to be a pretty cool lady.
I hurried out of the inn and down the boardwalk, my heart pounding faster the closer I got to Cooper’s. My fear was that nothing could be done for Anita, that her cancer had progressed too far, and Archie was in the first stages of grief.
Inside the dimly lit bar, my eyes met Cooper’s first and he gave me a tender look before nodding his head toward Archie. The place was packed, but unlike most nights, when Archie found someone to chat with, he was huddled up on a stool in the corner, staring forlornly into a full draft of beer.
My stomach twisted with sympathy for him as I slowly made my way over to him. When I placed a hand on his shoulder he turned to look at me.
His gaze softened. “Hey, Doc.”
“Hey, Archie.” I leaned in to him. “Do you feel like taking a walk with me? It’s a beautiful night.”
He shot Cooper a look. “You called her?”
Cooper didn’t say anything.
“You called her.” Archie heaved a deep sigh and then to my surprise moved off the stool with little prodding. “Alright, Doc, let’s take that walk.”
He walked close by my side and it was the first time I’d really noticed much about him. Although it would be fair to call Archie an alcoholic, he was certainly a functioning alcoholic. He was immaculate, for a start. From head to toe. The crisp, fresh scent of soap clung to him, his hair was combed and styled, his shirt and pants ironed with perfect crease lines, and his black leather shoes were gleaming they’d been shined so well. I wondered if it was all Anita’s doing.
Looking at him, at his well-trimmed gray beard and warm brown eyes, I could see he’d been a handsome man, and by some miracle he’d escaped the wrath of alcohol on his physical appearance.
I stopped us near the bandstand by leaning on the railing to look out at the dark waters. “So . . .”
Archie came to a halt beside me, his sad gaze following mine to the gentle surf. “I guess you know about Anita.”
“I don’t. I just know what I suspected when I told her to go see her doctor.”
“Cancer.” He looked at me now, anguished. “It’s not good, Doc. They told her weeks ago. She only just got up the courage to tell me.”
Sorrow for him and Anita tightened my chest and I couldn’t help but reach for his hand. “I’m so sorry, Archie.”
“They say she’s got a chance. But it’s going to be a tough fight.”
“Anita seems like a tough woman. If anyone can do it, I’m sure she can.”
“Ah, Doc.” Archie sighed heavily. “That woman is the strongest woman I have ever met. But that doesn’t mean she hasn’t got lots of soft in her. She’s cut up about this. She needs me.”
“So you’ll help her.” I squeezed his hand.
In answer he yanked away from my touch. “She needs me,” he snapped. “And do I look like the kind of man she can depend on? I’m all she’s got and I’m going to fail.”
I considered my options. I could pander to him, tell him everything would be alright. Or I could be blunt.
I went with my instincts.
“The next year is going to be the toughest year of Anita’s life. From what I’ve heard she’s a good woman. You need to step up, Archie.”
“How can I look after her when my priority has been the drink this long?” He shook his head. “I’ve had a lot of shit happen to me . . . and the drink has always been there for me. Now it’s going to cost me.”
“Anita gets that, doesn’t she? About you and the drink. She’s never tried to change you or take it away from you.”
He turned his head to stare at me, surprised perhaps by my understanding. “Never, Doc. Not once. She took me as I am.”
“Then you owe her. She needs you. Don’t take you away from her. Not now.”
Fear darkened his face. “I’d need to kick it—to really be what she needs. How the hell can I do that in time, Doc? There’s no way.”
It was true that rehabilitation was an extremely hard and long road for addicts, but sometimes things happened in life that made us more capable than we’d ever imagined. According to Cooper, Archie hadn’t drunk a drop all night. Anyone would reason that the first thing Archie would have done was drown his sorrows in the drink.
He didn’t.
I leaned in to him, speaking from my heart. “People can do extraordinary things to save the ones they love.”
Watching Archie walk away, I was suffused with melancholy. Archie had accepted my comfort, and I’d like to think I helped a little.
For a start he was going home to Anita, rather than returning to the bar.
I immediately went on alert. “Oh?”
“Archie is here. He’s not drinking, though. Just sitting at the bar, looking depressed as all hell. It’s something about Anita, and I’m guessing you have an idea what’s going on. Any chance you could get away to come down and talk to him?”
Obviously things with Anita were as I’d suspected. “Of course. I’ll be right there.”
“Everything okay?” Mona said as I got off the phone.
“I’m not sure. Do you mind if I head out for a bit?”
“No problem. I’ll get finished here and lock up front for you.”
“Thanks, Mona.” I gave her shoulder a squeeze. Despite her control-freakery in the kitchen, she’d turned out to be a pretty cool lady.
I hurried out of the inn and down the boardwalk, my heart pounding faster the closer I got to Cooper’s. My fear was that nothing could be done for Anita, that her cancer had progressed too far, and Archie was in the first stages of grief.
Inside the dimly lit bar, my eyes met Cooper’s first and he gave me a tender look before nodding his head toward Archie. The place was packed, but unlike most nights, when Archie found someone to chat with, he was huddled up on a stool in the corner, staring forlornly into a full draft of beer.
My stomach twisted with sympathy for him as I slowly made my way over to him. When I placed a hand on his shoulder he turned to look at me.
His gaze softened. “Hey, Doc.”
“Hey, Archie.” I leaned in to him. “Do you feel like taking a walk with me? It’s a beautiful night.”
He shot Cooper a look. “You called her?”
Cooper didn’t say anything.
“You called her.” Archie heaved a deep sigh and then to my surprise moved off the stool with little prodding. “Alright, Doc, let’s take that walk.”
He walked close by my side and it was the first time I’d really noticed much about him. Although it would be fair to call Archie an alcoholic, he was certainly a functioning alcoholic. He was immaculate, for a start. From head to toe. The crisp, fresh scent of soap clung to him, his hair was combed and styled, his shirt and pants ironed with perfect crease lines, and his black leather shoes were gleaming they’d been shined so well. I wondered if it was all Anita’s doing.
Looking at him, at his well-trimmed gray beard and warm brown eyes, I could see he’d been a handsome man, and by some miracle he’d escaped the wrath of alcohol on his physical appearance.
I stopped us near the bandstand by leaning on the railing to look out at the dark waters. “So . . .”
Archie came to a halt beside me, his sad gaze following mine to the gentle surf. “I guess you know about Anita.”
“I don’t. I just know what I suspected when I told her to go see her doctor.”
“Cancer.” He looked at me now, anguished. “It’s not good, Doc. They told her weeks ago. She only just got up the courage to tell me.”
Sorrow for him and Anita tightened my chest and I couldn’t help but reach for his hand. “I’m so sorry, Archie.”
“They say she’s got a chance. But it’s going to be a tough fight.”
“Anita seems like a tough woman. If anyone can do it, I’m sure she can.”
“Ah, Doc.” Archie sighed heavily. “That woman is the strongest woman I have ever met. But that doesn’t mean she hasn’t got lots of soft in her. She’s cut up about this. She needs me.”
“So you’ll help her.” I squeezed his hand.
In answer he yanked away from my touch. “She needs me,” he snapped. “And do I look like the kind of man she can depend on? I’m all she’s got and I’m going to fail.”
I considered my options. I could pander to him, tell him everything would be alright. Or I could be blunt.
I went with my instincts.
“The next year is going to be the toughest year of Anita’s life. From what I’ve heard she’s a good woman. You need to step up, Archie.”
“How can I look after her when my priority has been the drink this long?” He shook his head. “I’ve had a lot of shit happen to me . . . and the drink has always been there for me. Now it’s going to cost me.”
“Anita gets that, doesn’t she? About you and the drink. She’s never tried to change you or take it away from you.”
He turned his head to stare at me, surprised perhaps by my understanding. “Never, Doc. Not once. She took me as I am.”
“Then you owe her. She needs you. Don’t take you away from her. Not now.”
Fear darkened his face. “I’d need to kick it—to really be what she needs. How the hell can I do that in time, Doc? There’s no way.”
It was true that rehabilitation was an extremely hard and long road for addicts, but sometimes things happened in life that made us more capable than we’d ever imagined. According to Cooper, Archie hadn’t drunk a drop all night. Anyone would reason that the first thing Archie would have done was drown his sorrows in the drink.
He didn’t.
I leaned in to him, speaking from my heart. “People can do extraordinary things to save the ones they love.”
Watching Archie walk away, I was suffused with melancholy. Archie had accepted my comfort, and I’d like to think I helped a little.
For a start he was going home to Anita, rather than returning to the bar.
