One For the Road Ch. 05

"Oh. Oh! Really?" She seemed very surprised. "That'd be terrific, Jimmy. Really it would. Whatever you can give would be great. But why don't you go through New York Child Support? You can mail it to them and they'll send me that check."

"A few reasons. I'd like to give whatever I could afford which will be more than they said I have to give. I don't trust the government at this time, not with everything we've been dealing with. I want...I want to see you, even if it's just for five minutes."

"Jimmy," she said slowly and sadly.

I pretended not to notice and continued, "And I want to see my boys. I'm not trying to make a visit out of it, it's just...after seeing them I've come to realize how much I need then in my life. They show me what I've done wrong, and give me hope on what I can reclaim in the future."

"I don't know. I'd have to check with Ms. Desano if it's ok."

"I...I understand, Myra. Thanks for considering it." I smiled. "Even if she says no or you don't find out in advance, I'm going to stop by tomorrow after work anyway."

"Oh, you," she giggled. "Still bucking the trend, huh?"

"You know me."

"Yeah, I do," her voice had a sad and wistful sound to it and I felt it was time to end this conversation.

"Ok, Myra. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Give my love to the J's."

"I will, James. Good night." She hung up.

"Good night, babes," I said to the dial tone. "I love you." I put the phone down on the side of my bed and lay back down to stare at the ceiling. Time to grow up, Jimmy. Your wife loves you, man. But even though she loves you, it might not be enough. And whose fault is that?

I made the thumbs up sign and poked myself in the chest with it. "This guy," I whispered to the night. Yeah, maybe. But I'm still not going to let that weasel Mark sneak on in and take my family. Fuck you, Mark. Just fuck you. Jimmy Skelly is far from out you prick.

True to my word, Friday after bidding Tom a great weekend and cashing my over $500 check, I drove to my old home and parked on the driveway, secretly thrilled to see that only Myra's Kia was there. I revved the engine and killed the ignition letting the throaty roar of my Charger announce my arrival. The screen door burst open and my two sons came bounding out of the house like red and blond balls of fire.

I caught them both and spun crazily around the driveway while holding them, the three of us talking a mile a minute and only barely hearing what the other two were saying. I found myself laughing in terrible joy just holding my boys and seeing their frantically happy faces. Joel lunged closer and hugged me so tight around the neck I thought he was going to crush my throat. "I've missed you so so so much, Daddy!"

"I've missed you too, Joel." I gave him an extra squeeze and then did the same for his brother. "You too, John-boy."

"Are you going to stay, Dad?"

"I can't. I'm just here to drop something off for Mommy."

"Oh." John's face fell. "Well, are you going to stay to see Mark?"

The vein in the middle of my forehead pulsed wildly as I struggled to keep control. "Nooo, I'm not." Fuck you, Mark. Just fuck you. "Why? Is he coming to visit?"

My son shrugged. "Sometimes. Fridays he comes over a lot and stays late. Sometime he brings popcorn and we watch movies."

"Oh, That sounds nice." Eat maggot infested shit and choke on it you tampon chewing assfaggot. "No, I'm not going to be here that long." I was walking up to the front door, a boy in each arm. "But, I plan on stopping by every Friday until the doctors say I can come by ALL the time!"

"Alright!" they cheered, slithering out of my arms and dashing to the door where Myra was already standing. "Hey, Mom! Guess what? Dad's going to visit EVERY Friday!"

"Wow!" Myra said, sparing me a single raised eyebrow. "I hope he can! Say, give your dad a last hug and go inside to wash up for dinner."

They each complied, whispering how much they loved me in my ears, and then went into the house with a final pair of 'goodbyes'.

"Well," Myra said, "I hope that Ms. Desano is willing to let this happen."

"She will. I'm not here to cause trouble." I looked around and pulled out a bank envelope from my pants pocket. "Here, Myra. Like I promised."

"Thanks, James." She went through it and then looked at it again slower. "James, there's over $300 in here!"

"I know."

"You don't have to give that much. The courts said $75."

I shook my head. "Myra, I really fucked things up. The $75 was for when I was making $300. I'm making more than that and I've giving you more than half my take home."

"Why?"

"Because the boys deserve it. Because you deserve it. You're my wife..."

"James," she began, her face falling.

I interrupted her and went on, "No, it's true even if you don't think so. This is my home and my responsibility. And if I do my job, then you don't need anyone else to come in." My gaze narrowed but I forced my voice to stay calm. "No need to feel beholden to anyone for any reason."

Myra said nothing, just held the envelope full of $20's. Her eyes were haunted and her shoulders hunched. I wanted so much to lean forward and embrace her in my arms, but that was very much outside the 'good idea' realm. "Listen, I'm going to go. Just think about what I said, Myra. I know things are fucked up, but, well, just think about it." Damn it Jimmy, get off the stick and say goodbye. Time to go. "Later, Myra."

I got in my baby and drove back to my parents feeling conflicted. There was no doubt I hated to drive away. That was my home. Mine. Yes it was a piece of shit and needed tons of work, but it was my home. Why should I leave?

I knew the answer to that. I had to leave because I had no choice. Through a long line of stupid assed decisions I had made over time that involved and revolved around my drinking, I had pretty much ruined my chance of just going back home in the near future. And it was really fucking wrong of me to keep pressuring Myra. If I keep asking, then she isn't going to want me there. If I stop asking, she'll seek me out on her own.

That was my hopes, but we would see how the reality of it all would play out.

The weeks passed easily and I found myself knee deep in Tom's company as well as my time at AA. I was coming up to my 3 month chip when CPS came through, announcing that I could have supervised visits with my sons every week for 2 hours. We could go to a neutral location the Child Services ran or we could use my parents' house if they were willing to be there during that time. For us it was a no brainer.

We opted on Saturdays at noon this way I could eat lunch with my boys. Rebecca, my CPS watchdog, came by about fifteen minutes before each scheduled meeting to talk with my parents and me in order to get a status report so to speak. I sat near the front door watching the street like an anxious dog, head twisting around every time I heard a car in the distance.

Finally at 11:56 I saw Myra's dirty Kia come rolling up to the front of the house, John and Joel bouncing wildly in the back seat. Myra stepped out of the passenger side and opened the back sliding door, letting the two of them out where they burst across the lawn waving their hands and screaming, "Dad!" We fell into each others' arms as we reconnected on the front lawn. I looked up to see Myra talking with my pop briefly before getting back into the minivan and having Mark drive her away.

Damn it.

I dropped my wife and that...weaselly opportunistic scumbag from my thoughts and devoted the rest of my time and attention on John and Joel. We ate tuna fish sandwiches (tuna, that I bought and paid for on bread, that I bought and paid for) before going out back to run around the sprinklers for a while. I made believe that Rebecca wasn't here. I pretended that we were at our house and not my parents. I chose to ignore that this was for only 2 hours and not whenever I wanted at will.

If I didn't do those things it was going to break my heart when the time was up.

After drying off we just played catch on the lawn and talked about which ice cream flavor we would be willing to try no matter how weird it sounded. Two o'clock came way too fast and I heard the horn honk from out front. With exaggerated slowness John and Joel came over to me for a hug and kiss before having my mom lead them back around front for Myra and...fuckface to take them home. I pretended to be strong for my boys until they disappeared around the corner of the house and then collapsed to the lawn chair and let the tears fall freely.

Rebecca had the good graces to wait until I pulled myself together to schedule another visit next week and to congratulate me on my successes so far. Thanks, give me a band-aid to cover the rented hole in my guts.

It was the end of July when Tom got pissed at me for something stupid. I had been laboring at a job we were doing in Woodbury and he needed me to take the trip to the site in East Meadow. So he called the only number he had on file for me and it was my parents'. It wasn't until after 2:30 that he came roaring up to the site in his truck and proceeded to tear me a new ass on not giving him my cell number.

I was proud of myself for not launching into his red and veiny face, waiting for a moment when he was taking a breath to finally interrupt him. "Tom! I don't have a cell phone."

"Bullshit, Jimmy."

"Nope. Not since January I would guess."

He stared at me with a blank expression before grumbling and getting back into his truck to drive away. I shrugged at Saul who was nailing in the sheathing and went back to restacking the plywood sheets against the side of the house. When we heard screeching tires again fifteen minutes later we were surprised to see Tom Maldeves drive up once more and stalk towards me.

"Jimmy!" he roared.

"What?!" I answered, wondering what was up his ass.

He tossed a bag at me and I reached up, catching it. I opened the top and spilled out a Trac-phone. "Two hundred minutes are on it. You pay for anything else from this point out. I need you, you answer it, capice?"

"No problem, boss."

"Good." He cleared his throat. "Now, get your ass to the East Meadow job and clean the site up."

I gave him a grin, hoisted my phone up to my ear like I had just spoken to him and replied, "Will do, boss. Gotta hang up, I'm getting behind the wheel."

As for phone calls, the Orders had been modified even more allowing phone calls between Myra the boys and I to take place which allowed me to speak with my sons at any time during the week. So I would read to them over the phone at my parents, making sure John and Joel had the same book I was reading on their lap so they could follow along. I heard about their days in detail and cherished every minute I had with them.

Myra and I would talk for a few minutes either after or before my time with the J's. Only twice did she bring up the separation and each time I reminded her that there wasn't going to be one. I was proud of the fact that I didn't harp on her about 'us' and instead let my actions speak for me. Each Friday I drove to her house and handed her an envelope full of cash, every Saturday I saw my boys for two hours. And every night like clockwork I went to my AA meetings.

Father Michael was working with another person at Nassau Community Hospital so I didn't see him nearly as much anymore. We were still friends though and I never failed to give him a call if I was having a rough patch or a tough day.

It was the end of August when our AA meeting was having a joint gathering with the local Narcotics Anonymous group. It was a potluck gathering and I made a platter of my mom's potato salad to bring. I felt pretty good as I rolled up to the church parking lot that Saturday. My baby still had the scratches and dents but she was well cared for and polished everywhere else. I climbed out of the Charger and shut the door with my hip, feeling my polo shirt swish around my waist.

That was another change. By not drinking and working for Tom I had slowly shed much of the weight I had packed on during my dark time. I wasn't down to 265 again but I was under 280 and it showed by the definition in my arms, legs, and back. My gut no longer had that 'dunlop' look to it and I was filled with more energy than I had felt in a long time.

After loading up on a plate of chili and chips, I found myself in a heated conversation with a few guys about the merits of various muscle cars when a familiar voice sounded from behind. "Well shit. As I live and breathe, Jimmy Fucking Skelly."

I turned around and saw my friend Tim for the first time in almost half a year. "Holy crap! Tim, you son of a bitch!" We both embraced each other, clapping one another on the back repeatedly and with some resounding slaps. "Wow! Tim! Damn man, how are you?!"

"I'm good!" He replied, the group around us wandering away to let the two of us catch up on our friendship. "I'm in NA. Two months so far."

"You?" I asked agog. "Wow! That's GREAT! Really! Wow, Tim. Narcotics Anonymous. I had no idea!"

He shrugged. "My mom was pretty pissed after you almost died in the shower..."

I held up my hand, "Man, I cannot thank you enough for that."

He waved it off and continued, "It's alright. Anyway, she was really up my case about it and it took a few weeks for me to get my head around it. I mean my best buddy almost died. In my bathroom. I couldn't believe it. I mean, you're my fucking idol! When everyone else wrote me off, you kept having my back."

"Tim, dude. It's alright, man. Really."

"No, you don't get it. I would have done anything for you, man. Whatever you wanted, even if it seemed fucked up, I'd have done it for you. It's pretty screwed up."

I looked him over with a more critical eye. He was still Tim but he didn't have that whitish pallor he used to have. Also there were no circles under his eyes and he seemed just more comfortable in his own skin. His clothes were less ragged and he just looked more put together. Still Tim, but a faintly better version I guess. "Well, you can't take the blame for it, man. I drank and I was a drunk."

"I know, man, I know. I've gotten that part of it right. But I was not a good friend to you because I didn't once say, 'whoa man, chill out,' or anything like that." He pulled out a pack of Camels and tapped the box before drawing one free and lighting it. "Anyway, after I sat with the priest a bit and my mom tore me a new one, I came to realize that I didn't want to see my best bud Jimmy ever like that again. Ever. You scared the crap out of me. I won't say you scared me straight but definitely less crooked."

We both grinned at that. "Well, I'm glad you're doing better, bud."

"Thanks." He looked around. "Where's Myra? Al-Anon?"

The good feeling I had faded a bit. "She's not here with any of it, Tim. She filed for a separation."

"Oh." He had the good grace to look embarrassed. "Shit, buddy. I never would have guessed. Not in a million years."

"Yeah. It's pretty fucked up."

"Well," I heard Father Michael speak up from my right, "I suspected you two would run into each other here."

"Father!" I exclaimed, "Great to see you." I shook his hand and motioned towards Tim with my right shoulder. "I know you said that I had to get myself under control and stuff, but I ran into Tim here purely by accident. I didn't know he was a 'friend'."

The priest smiled. "It's ok, Jimmy. And thanks for telling me up front." He looked over at Tim and shook his hand as well. "I hear positive things about you Mr. Mallox. Your counselor has let me know of your earnestness - and that counts more than anything else sometimes."

"Thanks, Father Baldwin," Tim said. "I'm comfortable being a fuck up, as long as I'm an improving fuck up."

The three of us laughed and then Father Mike resumed his thoughts, fingers digging at his bearded chin. "As for your friendship with Tim, well, for that Jimmy I'll have to ask you: do you think you can still stay on the path and pick up the pieces of you two's former companionship?"

I had to really think about it. Yes it was true that I was the most fucked up with Tim, but it was during the slippery slope that I had been living on and now; well now, I didn't want to be that person anymore. Ever again. The curse of realizing you're an alcoholic is that you're an alcoholic all the time - even when you're not drinking. I was going to have to be aware of this for the rest of my life. But I wasn't going to live my life in fear. "You know what, Father? I think I can. What I was before, that was the old me. The new me isn't anything like that bastard was. So unless you have a problem, I think some phone calls and a few short visits with my long lost buddy are in acceptable order after today."

"Ok, Jimmy. I guess you've proven you could walk a bit. Remember though, don't break into a run - just ramp up to a jog. That means no temptation. None. No bars, no pool, no 6-packs. You start, and you know where it'll lead. Only this time'll be harder and will take longer to get yourself back to this place." He turned to Tim. "And that goes the same for you. Just because you are hanging out with James here don't think that it's ok to roll yourself a fatty or pop something to 'make the night even better'."

Tim looked at Father Mike with a cocked eyebrow. "Roll a fatty?"

"What? You want me to show my age and say 'smoke a doobie'?" After a friendly smile he put his hand on my shoulder and said, "And on that note, I'll leave you two to yourselves. Talk to you soon, gentlemen."

Tim and I spent the rest of the picnic bullshitting with one another. At the end of the day we exchanged phone numbers and a promise to give each other a call before the end of the next week. As I drove home, my Charger purring as I made my way down Sunrise Highway, I listened to Father Mike's CD, supposedly it was filled with dozens and dozens of tracks. I used to listen to it in order, but lately I had it on random and would get a few tidbits of wisdom before turning it off to digest what I heard.

Shortly after Labor Day I had received notification from some billing company the hospital had assigned my account to that I was in debt for $34,824.16. Yeah, can't forget the change, that would just suck. I had informed them by phone as well as by letter that I had no way of paying this debt at this time. Could I send them $1,000/week? Um, no dumb ass, I can't. How about $500? Still no. Well, I'm going to have to settle this debt with them or it is going to negatively affect my credit rating and they might garnishee my wages.

All I could say to the dumb fuck who called me up for the 23^rd time in a row was, "Get in line."

Who the fuck has $34k just sitting around? Am I supposed to just pull it from my ass? Fucking bullshit, and I'm sure the bill was padded somehow. Like the radiologist used $2,475 worth of x-ray beams on me or whatever he did. The bill might as well been $34 million for all it meant to me.

My parents were very cool about this whole thing. I was giving Myra and the boys around $300 a week, and was passing my mom another $75, leaving me with just enough for gas, insurance, and to pump minutes on my phone and bologna and cheese into my lunch bag. It wasn't much of an existence, but it was mine and I was getting better and more hopeful every day. Even Rebecca, that CPS twat, was filling me full of hope that this entire mess would be behind me soon.

I was having almost nightly phone calls with John and Joel now, and even though I wasn't explicitly pumping them for information, I was subtly asking about mom when I could and what she was doing. And it seemed that Mark the weasel fuckface was still around and hung out some nights "after bed time but we know that adults don't have the same bed times as kids do so it's ok for him and mom to be up late."