Page 12 of Unwanted

4

ARLO

“Can you just come downstairs and give me the gym keys, please?” I say into my phone. “I know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work.”

“You’ve come this far,” Clem drolls.

“I told you to tell me when he leaves and then I’ll come see Lennox.”

“He’s not leaving,” she huffs. “You and I both know he’s not leaving here unless someone forcibly removes him.”

“Lennox will understand,” I argue, despite knowing I’m selfishly putting my needs above his. “I’ll send him a text. He’ll understand.”

Clem sighs. “You’re better than this, Arlo.”

A self-deprecating laugh leaves my mouth. “All these years you’ve been giving me too much credit, sweetheart. I’m still the piece of shit I’ve always been.”

“I hate you sometimes, you know that?”

“Welcome to the club.”

“Can you maybe call Jenika?” she suggests, the hostility in her voice switching to concern. “Talk it through with her. It might help.”

I hate that she knows what my next step should be before my brain has come to terms with taking it. I wanted to remain petulant and unreasonable, because the longer Lennox was in the hospital, the chance of bumping into Frankie was no longer just a possibility. It was an inevitable reality, and I was certain it would ruin me.

“I’ll call her.” I sigh, because Clem’s right and I need to talk to someone who really understands the severity of the consequences I’m facing when I step back into the past. I can’t let my loyalty to my family decide this one for me. “But I can’t make you any promises.”

We say our goodbyes and I find an empty park bench across from the hospital entrance and plant my ass down, mentally preparing myself for an emotionally taxing conversation with Jenika.

Having her as my sponsor is like winning the jackpot. Her heart was bigger than the ocean, but her tongue was fierce. There was no sugar coating things in our relationship.

And that was what I needed right now.

I needed someone to tell me the truth. Was seeing Frankie a bad idea? Was I worried about my sobriety? Or was it just heartbreak and anger fueling me?

Pulling my earphones out of my pocket, I place them in each ear and call her. It’s a beautiful spring day, and the sun on my back eases the stiffness in my shoulders.

“Hello, stranger,” Jenika greets. “I was just thinking about you this morning.”

“Well, that can’t be good.”

“You haven’t called and I haven’t seen you at any meetings,” she points out.

“Work has been busy,” I tell her. “And things have been good.”

“Mmmm, so why the call now, then? What happened?”

“What makes you think something happened?” I joke.

“Well, Arlo, my love, you just said things were going well and that’s why you haven’t called,” she states. “And our relationship just isn’t like that, we don’t just shoot the shit. So tell me what’s got you calling.”

“Lennox got injured playing football two days ago,” I inform her. “I don’t know all the details, but he seems to have lost his hearing.”

“Shit,” she sympathizes. “That’s quite a hurdle. How is he? Are you worried he’ll spiral into some sort of depression?”

That’s what I loved about talking to Jenika. She knew everything about me and everything about everyone who was important to me, but it was also what I hated, because her concern for Lennox’s mental health highlighted the way I was making this whole situation about me.

But there was no place for shame and embarrassment with Jenika. There was only honesty, and that’s why I had called.

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