I Shocked The Sheriff

“I’m sorry I called.” He sounded as if her grief had sobered him. “You deserve more than a bum like me for a friend. I should be thinking about you. I’d do anything for you and that includes getting the hell outta of your life. Meanwhile I’m going to get so strung out I won’t even remember I had a brother.”

“Mick!”

But only the buzz of the dial tone answered her desperate query. She put the receiver down and curled into a ball, shivering, like she would never be warm again.

She had to go to him.

Where will you find him? He’ll hide until he’s too stoned to remember he’s hiding.

She’d find him if she had to search every bar in Dallas. She had a responsibility to help another alcoholic. She couldn’t fail him when so many people had been there to help her. She’d find him even if she ended up picking up a drink.

And then you’ll die.

The shivering turned to outright shaking.

The shaking continued. She recognized the voice of reason. This part of Roxy knew she wouldn’t survive another binge. It wasn’t even the diabetes. It was the threat of finding herself at the bottom. If she ever went down to that place again she couldn’t come back up.

The phone rang again. She picked it up, hoping Mick had come to his senses. “Hello?”

“Roxy?”

“Daddy, it’s me.” She rubbed a lock of hair against her cheek.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “You sound terrible, but you told me they had the diabetes under control.”

She sniffed, “Mick just called me.”

He paused for a moment. “I figured he might. I’m sorry, honey. Mrs. Petty gave him your number at the motel because he said it was an emergency. She thought it was okay because Joey’s in your AA group.”

“Daddy, he was really stoned. I have to come home and find him. Before he hurts himself.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I know. But…”

“I’ll find him, Roxy. You stay where you are. We’ve gotten three calls from the drunks you used to run with.”

“He’s not like them.” She knew she sounded defensive.

“I understand, but he’s going to hurt you, Roxy. You can’t allow him to depend on you. He has to help himself. You understand better than anyone.” The pain of having tried to help her and failed was there in his voice. The pain of a man who’d let his work consume him until he’d lost his wife to alcoholism, and his son to drug addiction and suicide.

It represented another chunk of guilt she had to bear. Her responsibility to Mick warred with her need to atone to her father for the years of heartache he’d endured.

What am I going to do? “I should come home. Joey and Mick need me.” She knew her tone lacked conviction.

“No. Just stay put. You ran because you knew you couldn’t handle your grief for David and Joey. I know this brought it all back.” He sounded as if he was working to keep his own emotions in check.

“I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you, too. And I worry about you. This is too much at one time. Joey isn’t out of the hospital and he’d want you to do whatever you needed to stay straight. I’ll handle Mick.” The desperation in his voice convinced her more than anything he said.

“What will you do about Mick?” She sniffed again. Roxy felt guilty about abandoning Mick. His suffering touched more than her sense of responsibility, it touched her heart. He’d sounded so alone.

“I’ll find him. I’ll look all night long if I have too. Honey, I promise. I’ll find him and keep him safe. I’ll call someone from your AA emergency list and let them baby-sit him once I’ve got him.”

She took a deep breath, thinking. “Call Michelle, Bubba Watkins, or Houston Sharp. All of them reach out to other alcoholics; they’ll understand what he’s going through.” She couldn’t explain any further. Her dad knew why. Everything she knew about her friends from AA she kept confidential. Just as they guarded her ugliest secrets.

“I’ll call them. I’ll call you back if I can’t reach any of them and need more names. Roxy, I promise to take care of this and I’ll even visit Joey so he knows how much you wished you could be there for him.”

She no longer felt torn by her responsibilities. God willing, there would be other times, when she was stronger, when she could do the reaching out. “Thank you, Daddy. I feel better.”

“I love you. I’ll send you the two thousand first thing in the morning. Do you need anything else? Should I ask one of your AA friends to come and stay with you?”

“No, I think it might be good for me to be alone. It’ll give me some time to think.”

“If you need me I can be there in just a few hours. There has to be a municipal airport nearby.”

He sounded worried for her, but she knew he’d accept whatever decision she made. He’d learned long before she’d started drinking that she had to make her own choices, live with her own mistakes. She’d never been a model child.

Every time he’d forced her to do anything it had been a disaster. She’d fought him with every ounce of her will. Until the last binge. Then she’d gone crawling to him for help and he’d been there. He knew things about her that would make any parent cringe with horror. But no matter what other mistakes he’d made as a parent, he’d been there when it counted. She loved him for that.

“I’m really okay. What you’ve already done is more than enough. Thank you.”

“I want to do more for you, Roxy. What else can I do to help?”

“Like I told you when I called from the hospital, I just had to get out of Dallas. That’s all. Everything reminded me. I didn’t go for a drink, just a long drive. Do you understand, Dad?”

“Yes, and I’m so proud of you.”

He sounded choked up. It made her eyes flow again.

“I love you, Daddy.”

“I’ll call you when the dust settles. Take care of yourself, baby.”

“Don’t worry, Daddy. I can’t get in too much trouble in this hick town.”

ROXY SCRAMBLED OUT OF BED. Her head throbbed from crying, her eyelids felt like sandpaper against her eyes. Her nightmares had been particularly vivid this time and she doubted the wisdom of staying in this one-horse town for another day. She debated with herself as she cleaned up and dressed.

She looked at the limp collar of the shirt she’d been wearing since Wednesday night when she’d gotten in her car for the drive. Hard to believe it was Friday morning, almost the weekend. Not that it mattered when she had a couple more weeks before school started.

The shirt smelled a bit rank. I really need clothes. Roxy raked her fingers through the damp tangle of her shoulder-length hair. I need a hairbrush. Then she bent to examine her freckles in the harsh light of the bathroom. And I definitely need some makeup.

There had to be some store equivalent to a Wal-Mart, even in a town this size.

Her stomach rumbled. She patted it. Okay, breakfast first, the bank, and then shopping. She grabbed the twenties she’d accepted from Luke. She looked at them curiously. What was it about him? She’d met all kinds of men; rich successful men and long-haired rebels oozing sensuality. Still, it was the uptight Farmer John who made her want to give herself up to his keeping.

I wonder if he makes love with the same attention to detail as he exercises in his job? A little quiver went through her at the thought.