Chapter 7

It was maybe a month later that I got a call from Jennie. She asked if I could have lunch with her at the same off-campus café where we'd met before. I was hoping she was following through on her alcoholic counseling and told her I'd meet her at one.

She was there when I arrived, and as I approached the table, I was disappointed to see that she was working on a glass of white wine. She knew how I felt about it when I sat across from her and I stared pointedly at the glass.

"Not to worry, Stevie! I've cut way back and this is all the booze I'll be drinking today. I've been seeing a counselor and I've pretty much got a handle on it."

The glassy look in her eyes told me differently and I had to be blunt. "No you don't, and I'd bet your counselor wouldn't approve, but I won't argue with you about it. How've you been doing otherwise?"

She was a little taken aback by my blunt comment, but she let it pass. "I'm doing very well, thank you. How's the redo on your house coming along? I'm very anxious to see the finished product."

"It's moving right along; we're almost done on the inside except for refinishing the oak floors. I'm going to hold off painting the outside until next spring."

Her brow wrinkled. "You say 'we've almost finished.' Who's the 'we' part? Have you acquired a new housemate since we last talked?"

OK, that was definitely a screw-up on my part. I was going to have to be much more careful in the future, but it wasn't hard to get around her observation. "That's 'we' as in me and some subcontractors I've hired to do some of the more technically difficult stuff."

"Oh, right! That makes sense. It's just that I seem to recall you being good at everything you try, so I can't imagine any restoration project being beyond your ability."

"Sometimes it's best to leave it to the pros. So, how about you? Any new loves in your life these days?"

Jennie seemed puzzled by the question. "Of course not! I asked you not to give up on me, didn't I? I understand your concerns, Stevie, but I'm doing a lot better now. I really think we'd be good for each other and I think we should try again, don't you?"

My god, I realized, the woman's living in a phantasy! "Jennie, I don't know what made you think I was interested in a relationship, but you must have misread me somewhere along the line. I'm sorry if you got the wrong idea.

There was a flash of anger on her face but it quickly softened to a smile. "Stevie, I know you don't mean that. Look, if my drinking one little glass of wine has you all concerned, that's not a problem. With you around to keep me pointed in the right direction, I can quit just this easily!" She took the glass and dumped it into a potted palm behind her chair. "See? No problemo, mi amore!"

The waiter came by and asked what I wanted to drink, but I'd decided I wanted no more of Jennie's lies.

"Nothing, thanks."

When he walked away, I looked Jennie in the eyes and said, "Like I said, I'm sorry if you got the wrong idea, but there's a couple of things you should understand before I go. First of all, alcoholics don't cut back, they either quit or they fail. If you'd asked for my support as a friend, I'd have gladly given it, but I won't let you lay any of the responsibility for your addiction on my shoulders. Secondly, I already have a lady friend whom I love very much. I hoped you and I could be friends, but now I'm wondering if that's even possible." I stood and said, "Goodbye, Jennie."

Her eyes bugged and her mouth hung open as I turned to leave. I was almost to the door when she shouted, "YOU'RE MINE, YOU SONOFABITCH! DON'T YOU EVER FORGET IT!"

Merde, I thought as I stepped onto the sidewalk, this is all I need!

I told Annie all about it when I got home. She could see I was really bummed out.

"It's hardly your fault, Steven, although you might have been a little rough on her about the drinking."

"No I wasn't! Annie, one thing I learned growing up around my dad; if you show the least little bit of sympathy for an alkie's drinking problem, they'll find some way to turn it into an excuse to drink even more. I don't mean that like it's a character flaw, it's just the way an addicted brain defends itself, and the only thing that gets through their defenses is to make them understand that their behavior is totally unacceptable. You have to make them want to quit more than they want to drink the next drink. You offer support, not excuses."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. Hey, why don't we go on up to your bedroom and give it a rest?"