Eve: Drink Of Me (F&L Story #2)

Eve: part 7

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Part 7

Clint’s fingers shook as he dialed the familiar number. A bartender. She was a goddamn bartender. Jerry’s voice answered on the fourth ring. “Hey, Clint. What’s up?”

With a voice that trembled in time to the rest of his body, he said, “I’m in deep shit. When can you get here?”

Jerry, his sponsor for the past four years, didn’t hesitate. “Where are you?”

“I’m at home.”

“Good. Stay there. Go down a glass of ice water, but nothing else. No food. Nothing. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Click.

“Hurry,” Clint whispered to the phone in his hand. Maybe now wasn’t the time to think about the liquor store two blocks away.

Jerry wasted no time. He walked into Clint’s house much like Eve had done earlier. “Okay, tell me what’s going on. You still feeling guilty about loosing Mrs. Granger yesterday?”

Clint bowed over in the living room. Elbows on knees, head in hands, butt in recliner. “Remember how I told you about that woman I met yesterday?”

“Yeah. The blond. Eve, right?”

He’d always like that about Jerry. Tell the veteran sponsor one tiny detail, and he remembered it forever. But of course, that backfires when Jerry remembers things about Clint that Clint would rather be forgotten forever.

“I don’t like blonds,” Clint grunted.

“So, you’ve told me. And I’m assuming you don’t much like this one,” Jerry said, sinking down onto the leather couch and propping his booted feet on the coffee table.

“That’s the thing. She’s NOT my type. And her moods change faster than I can think. She’s cranky, then she’s caring and comforting, then sad…next thing I know she’s stomping out of the hospital angry as all get out. Then there’s the pity and self-sacrifices, the kindness and cheeriness…the warmth and heat – and so soft…so damn soft. Hell, not to mention the understanding and devotion to her family. I’ve known the woman not even two days, and she’s got more emotions than warts on a frog.”

“So, why the talk down? You met a chick you don’t like. That happens to everyone.” But Jerry’s shrewd eyes watched Clint carefully. The man had honed reflexes and amazing observation skills. Being a kickboxing instructor and gym owner, Jerry’s tall, lean body disguised his fifty-three years by over a decade. And he’d been Clint’s A.A. sponsor and friend during the four years of Clint’s sobriety.

Jerry had heard it all. The excuses. The motives. The never-ending doubt of what happened next. Clint didn’t know if Jerry would understand about Eve’s power over him, but that didn’t stop him from trying to explain. “This woman is driving me crazy. When I’m around her, all I can think about is touching her. If only in some small way. And when she’d not around, I can’t’ get her out of my mind.”