There’s Wild, Then There’s You (The Wild Ones #3)(6)
Author: M. Leighton

“You stayed,” he observes simply.

“Yeah, I . . . uh . . . I was tired and didn’t want to drive home.”

“On a good day, I could walk to your house. It’s not that far.”

“And your point would be . . . ?”

“That you weren’t too tired to drive the very short distance home. I know why you stayed. You stayed because of me. And slept on this awful couch,” he says, his eyes full of guilt and regret. “I’m so sorry, Vi. I did it again, didn’t I?”

I sigh and ease slowly into a sitting position. I can’t really deny it. I did stay because of him. And I did sleep on this awful couch because of him.

“It’s not a big deal, Dad.”

“It’s a big deal to me. How many times have you slept on that couch just to keep an eye on me? To take care of me when I get sick or stop me from going right back out the door and getting in my truck and hurting someone? You practically grew up on that thing, guarding the front door.”

“It’s not a big deal,” I repeat, wondering if my aching back will ever agree. The couch is old and the cushions lost their gusto about a hundred years ago. Now they sag toward the middle, dragging whoever is unfortunate enough to lie atop it into an uncomfortable U shape. Not a good thing for a side sleeper like me.

“I . . . I wish I could do better, honey,” he says tearfully.

I know his distress is genuine. I honestly believe he wants to do better. It’s simply beyond him to do so. He’s been this way for far too long. But more importantly, I think he’s lost the will to fight it. When it became obvious that my mother had finally left for good, he stopped having long periods of living a healthy life. Now, he just gets by in between bouts.

The problem is that I’m not the most influential woman in his life. Never have been, never will be. My mother holds that position. I’ve always just sort of held him together until she comes back. Until she didn’t. He’s been in a downward spiral ever since.

“I know, Dad. It’s okay. But you’re still making progress. Just don’t give up.”

“Cutting back to only torturing your daughter a couple of times a month is hardly what I’d call progress.”

“Dad,” I say in a stern yet loving voice, “when it’s down from twice a week, it is most definitely progress.”

He smiles weakly. “If I could just forget about her, maybe I’d be able to kick it completely.”

“I have faith in you. I don’t think you’ll ever forget, but I don’t think you need to. One day, you’ll master these new coping skills, and you won’t feel the need to drown your sorrow over losing her. You’ll be able to deal with it in a healthy way.”

“I wish I was half the man you think I am, Vi.”

“I love you for who you already are, Dad. But that doesn’t mean I don’t see the potential for you to be happy and well-adjusted one day.”

“I hope you’re right. And I know if there’s a chance that I could be, it would be because of you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I stand, folding the beige throw I used as a cover all night and then draping it over the back of the couch. I walk to my dad, reaching around his big shoulders to hug him. “Lucky for you, you never have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I hope, for your sake, that’s not true. I want you to have a happy life one day, honey.”

“I do have a happy life, Dad. I have a job I love, family I adore, and friends to keep me busy. What more could I ask for?”

“You’re a social worker. All you do is listen to helpless people talk about their hopeless problems all day.”

“But I’m good at it, Dad. I’m a problem fixer. I love to help people.”

“It’s because you’ve been doing it your whole life. You had to be good at it.”

“However I got where I am, I’m happy with the result. There’s nothing wrong with liking to help people.”

“What about a boyfriend?”

“That’ll happen one day, but I’m not going to rush it.” I don’t add the part about how a man in my life is trouble I don’t need. I’ve seen what love can do to a person. It makes them weak and frail and can utterly ruin their life. It can be as destructive as any addiction. Look at my dad, for Pete’s sake! Thanks, but no thanks.

“That’s because you’re smart. You’ll do it the right way and it’ll last forever.”

I say nothing, just smile up into his haggard face. “How about some coffee? I saw that you were out and I went to the store last night. I got your favorite.”

His smile is lighter when he says, “I know. I’ve already got it in the machine. The water is heating as we speak.”

I raise my eyebrows in surprised appreciation. “Well, didn’t you wake up feisty?”

“Sometimes people can surprise you in a good way, Vi. Don’t ever forget that.”

Again, I say nothing, but I’m silently hoping for the day that begins to happen.

EIGHT: Jet

I’m a little surprised when I find myself parked in front of the building that, after business hours, becomes the weekly meeting place for SAA. I wasn’t sure I’d come back tonight, that it would be worth it. But after spending the better part of a week thinking of dove gray eyes and a shy smile, I don’t think there was any real way I’d miss this. I just hope she’s here.

I walk in and take a seat, nodding to the people who look my way. All the men look antsy, like they’ve got a monkey on their back and they just entered the gorilla cage. And I’m sure that’s how they feel, like they’re tiptoeing around, waiting to get torn apart by their needs. It doesn’t help that there’s a shitload of ass walking around.

To be a support group for people who are addicted to sex, there are an awful lot of women here. Some of them look as though they aren’t very committed to being celibate, even for a day, which I find curious. I can’t decide if they’re the ones who have been coming here the longest, who have suffered through the hardest part of their dry spell, or if they’re new to the program and the edge just hasn’t worn off yet. Either way, it’s an interesting mix in here. The one thing we all have in common—male, female, new, or old—is excess. We all know about excess. What fewer people know, especially people in a room like this, is moderation. I can relate to that most of all. I know very little about denying myself. And, if I’m being honest, I’m not really keen on the idea of learning.