Storm - Page 4/53

I hadn’t spoken to J in over two years now.  I also hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in that time.  Moving away from Storm had saved my life.  The problem was, I felt dead on the inside.  I was a twenty-nine year old single woman just going through the motions of life.  Sure, I had a job, good friends, and a great social life.  On the outside, my life looked like fun.  But it wasn’t real.  And I didn’t know how to make it any better.

Chapter 3

Madison

“Hello, my name is Madison, and I am an alcoholic.”

“Hello, Madison,” the group responded and I proceeded to share my story.  This group was my safe place and tonight I needed them in a way that I hadn’t for a very long time.  As I finished, I blew out my breath and let the group’s acceptance and support envelope me.  I felt it seep into my bones and glanced around the room, offering a small smile in thanks.  Someone else started sharing their story and I sat back and silently lent my support, as had been done for me.

When I first started coming here two years ago I absolutely hated it.  Although I knew I had to get my shit together, the last thing I wanted to do was give up drinking.  It was the shield I used to stop the grime of life from touching me.  When I drank I could just let it pass on by.  In the end, however, it sent me to a place I never wanted to go back to.  I may have fought this group and what it offered for awhile, but I had made myself a promise to clean up my act, and I had followed through on this.  Slowly, I realised that the support I found here was exactly what I needed.

I attended meetings weekly now.  Not so much because I still craved alcohol, because I didn’t.  No, it was more out of habit now and to make sure I never went there again.  As I looked around the room, I saw people at varying stages of their journey.  The ones I liked to focus on were the AA newbies.  They reminded me of how far I had come and the fact that I was so much stronger now.

Tonight, though, I was feeling a little bit vulnerable.  Thinking about Storm and J had stirred up old feelings of hurt and anger; feelings I had spent the last couple of years avoiding.  To get from where I was then to where I was now, I had had to lock away all thoughts of J.  I hadn’t allowed myself to think about him and that had worked for me.  It wasn’t working so well now.  And while I didn’t feel like a drink, I knew myself enough to know that I needed to be here, at the meeting tonight.

The meeting ended soon after and I headed straight out rather than staying for a coffee.  I stepped out into the warm January night and lit a cigarette as I walked home.  My mind was already onto my list of jobs for tonight.  Christ, I was supposed to call my brother over an hour ago.  I pulled my phone out and dialled him.  No answer.  Fuck.  He would be pissed at me.  I left a message and then sent a text to Serena, to let her know I was on my way home.

Me: On my way, what’s for dinner?

Serena: Fuck off.  You’re taking me out.

Me: Am I?  Make sure you wear that slutty dress for me.

Serena: Oh I’ll wear it babe but I’m not putting out.

God, how I loved this chick.  She was my sunshine at the end of a shitty day.  Even on days like today when I was exhausted, she managed to pick me up.  I would forever be thankful for the day she came into my life.  When I moved to Coffs Harbour I hadn’t expected to find a new family, but that’s just what I did find.  I had started a job in a clothing boutique and Serena was my workmate.  She and I had hit it off straight away; we shared the same sense of humour, and bonded over our love for slutty dresses, heels and inked men.  Serena introduced me to her inner circle of friends and I became fast friends with them as well.  Now the five of us were inseparable and they were always there for me.

My phone rang and I answered it with some attitude as I figured it was my brother calling back.  “Scott, what the fuck is so urgent that you felt the need to leave five shitty messages for me?”

A chuckle came down the line.  “Babe, you’ve got the wrong man.”

“Oh, shit.  Sorry Blake, I thought you were Scott.  Thank god it is you.”  I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Obviously.  What have you done to piss him off?” he asked.

“Nothing.  You know what Scott is like.  Always finding something to be pissy about,” I snapped.  Jesus, just thinking about my brother gave me the shits.

“Babe.”  Blake paused and I was sure I could actually hear his mind ticking over.  “The words pissy and Scott Cole do not go together in the same sentence.  Your brother is far too intense that pissy just doesn’t cover it.”

I blew out a long, frustrated breath.  “Yeah, you’re right about that.”  Blake had met Scott a couple of times, so he had seen firsthand just how intense my brother could be.  “Blake, why are you calling me?”

“Gina told me what a shit day you had so I’ve made you dinner.  Bring Serena too.”

“You’re a superstar, Blake Stone.  We’ll be there in about half an hour.”

“See you then,” he said and we hung up.  My day had just gotten better; it’s funny how the simple things that friends do for you can mean so much.

***

Two hours later I was at Blake’s house when my brother finally returned my call.

“Scott.” I answered and mentally banged my head against the wall.  I really didn’t want to deal with his shit tonight.