Disgust

Later that night, after I get home, I call David's hospital room to say goodnight.

"I heard what you did, missy," he scolds me lightly.

"What? Aw, man! I told your mom not to tell you until you got discharged. It was supposed to be a surprise."

"Well, I talked to her after you dropped off the clothes. Thank you...you didn't have to do that."

"I know. But I wanted to do it. And I'd do it for any of my friends in the same situation."

"You're a sweetheart, you know that?"

I say nothing.

"Oh yeah," he adds, "after you left, I found out there was a meeting going on right under my room. Remember how we both smelled cigarette smoke coming from outside my window? That's what it was from...everyone taking a break on the rooftop."

"A meeting?" I echo stupidly.

"Yeah. I convinced the nurse to let me go down there, and I got some phone numbers. I ran into a guy I knew. And everything is going to be just fine."

Oh....an N.A. meeting. That's what he's talking about.

"Well, that's great!" I say.

"Everything is gonna be fine," he repeats.

We wish each other a good night and I hang up the phone.

Before I get a chance to even digest this latest information, R. comes barreling down the basement stairs. He's just gotten home from his Wednesday night bowling league, and he reeks of beer and sweat.

He spies me sitting behind the computer and wanders over to me, planting a wet, sloppy kiss on my cheek.

I wince and resist the almost overwhelming urge to wipe it off with the back of my hand.

"What?" he says, his breath hanging sourly in the air between us.

I shake my head. "Nothing. I was just going to bed now."

He giggles like a little boy as I stand up from my chair and grabs me from behind around my waist.

"C'mere," he slurs, trying to nuzzle my neck. "I just wanna be loving."

My entire body stiffens as I pull myself out of his grasp. "No thanks...not now. It's bedtime."

"Why are you mad at me?" he persists.

"I'm not mad at you," I counter. "But you stink, and you're drunk. And you've been driving. And I want to go to bed. I'm tired."

He sighs and narrows his bloodshot eyes at me defensively. "I'm not drunk."

"Uh...okay. Whatever you say. I'm not having this conversation with you right now, all right? Goodnight!" I call over my shoulder as I run up the stairs.