A few days after her dinner with Micky at Peter and Dawn's, Robert came into Gabby's office and handed her a note. It was from Micky asking her if she wanted to attend the AA meeting on Thursday night at 7 p.m. at the NoHo Church. Gabby's eyebrows rose as she asked Robert "Isn't that a weird name for a church? Sounds like their sole mission is to rail against prostitutes or something."
Robert snickered and said "NoHo means North Hollywood, Gabby. You don't know that because you're a WeHo snob. West Hollywood."
She frowned at him a bit and then said "Oh, okay. Phew! Can you tell Micky I'll meet him at the meeting? I don't want to call him."
"Sure, I can do that." Robert left the office and wondered how long it would take for these two fragile, broken people who were actually still married to each other to progress to the point where they could communicate directly with each other. It made him think twice about the idea he had been toying with to propose to Lynda.
Gabby arrived at the meeting about fifteen minutes early. She noticed that Micky was running around, helping to set up for the meeting. He was unfolding chairs, setting out piles of pamphlets, and checking to make sure there were enough Styrofoam coffee cups. He spotted Gabby, but merely waved and continued on with his work until it was done. Then, when he was finished, he walked over to her and greeted her.
"Hey, Gabby. Sorry, but I had to finish setting up before the meeting starts. You don't have enough coffee at these meetings and you've got a riot on your hands. Oh, shit. Sorry, bad choice of words."
Gabby laughed, realizing Micky thought he'd made a faux pas, considering Gabby had actually been in a real riot, caused by the police when a bunch of protesters whom she was helping to lead on a march to protest the Vietnam War were viciously attacked, none more so than Gabby herself.
"It's okay, Micky. I get what you're saying. It's the same at the meetings I go to. It's good to see you giving service and doing your part."
"Yeah, my sponsor's real strict about giving service and getting my head outta my ass. That's how I ended up at Peter and Dawn's. I had no idea what they had been through with the new baby, but when Peter told me the night of the birthday party, I asked if I could help out."
"I'm really proud of you for doing that. I got my own head straight while you were away by helping them, and also starting up a volunteer program for young girls to get paired up with career women. They get to go to work with them, check out what they do for a living, ask them questions about their job and basically try to imagine themselves picking up the ball and running with it. I said the same thing to myself after I'd spent a lot of time wallowing – I've got to do something for others so I can get my head outta my ass."
Micky smiled at Gabby with pride but also a tight line of remorse drawn across his lips. He knew that the misery that drove her to giving service and starting that program was of his own making and that he was fully responsible for her malaise. Still, he tried to focus on the positive and focus on her affirmation that he was doing the right thing and was in sync with her own way of handling life's troubles. It had always been a hallmark of their relationship that they were intensely supportive of each other's efforts and that they were of one mind on most issues. The only thing they had ever differed on was the question of children, until . . .
Micky shook his head and wouldn't allow his mind to go there. 'Don't go there,' he said to himself, almost out loud. He used a lot of affirmations and self-talk these days, plus some prayer to the God of his understanding (whom he just referred to as the God of Music since he didn't really believe in a religious god), to keep his mind from running in its old self-destructive paths. He had to retrain himself to reach for a meeting or a slogan or a prayer instead of a drink, a drug or a loose broad when the feelings he was experiencing were causing him pressure and angst.
A middle-aged man of medium height and stocky build, with several tattoos and a red face came over to Micky, put his arm around him and asked "Is this the Missus?" Micky smiled and made the introduction. "Jack, this is my wife, Gabby. Gabby, this is Jack A., my sponsor."
Gabby shook his hand and said "Hey, Jack. It's so great to meet you. I'm very grateful that you're helping Micky learn the ropes of the program."
Jack shrugged and said "Hey, we're all just bozos on the same bus, hopefully headed for sobriety a day at a time. Only day I'm more sober than Micky is if I wake up earlier than him. We all work the program all day, every day."
Gabby nodded, "I know, I've been going to Al-Anon and studying up on what you guys do here, plus working the steps myself."
Jack gave a look of surprise and definite approval. "Heeeyyyy, Micky, you better clean up your act so you can hang on to this fine lady. She's got her head screwed on straight." Both Micky and Gabby blushed. Micky laughed and said "I'm trying, Jack. That's my main mission in life." He turned to face Gabby and gave her one moment's look of silent communication that meant "I said that for a reason and it's all true," then looked away, searching for three chairs together that they could occupy.
They approached the chairs and Gabby felt very awkward. She didn't want to sit next to Micky. Perhaps Micky had forewarned his sponsor, because Jack took charge of the situation and plunked his bottom on the seat between then, thus dispensing with the issue neatly. The meeting was what was called a commitment meeting, in which members from a visiting AA group dropped in and shared their stories of addiction, recovery and sobriety one at a time. There were several speakers who described their lives, all of whom came from very different walks of life. Their reasons for drinking were varied; the hard times they fell on ranged in severity from loss of family, fortune, housing and employment to incarceration and vehicular homicide while under the influence. The only common denominator between this diverse group of people was that they were all addicts and they all had the desire to stop drinking and drugging (though technically drugs were not part of the group's formal mission, they were discussed freely and pervasively as going hand in hand with alcoholism as a progression of the disease).
The speeches were poignant, raw and honest. But more than that, they were frickin' hilarious. Someone mentioned, after cracking up the audience, that the text of the Big Book of AA says "We are not a glum lot" and that humor was an important part of recovery. There was no doubt that these people, who had once needed the crutch of booze and drugs to experience life at its fullest, were now enjoying a much healthier and happier existence and it radiated from everybody's aura via the laughter that filled the room. They all had a type of self-deprecating, gallows, black humor that appealed to Gabby, which she found it easy to relate to, and which she had unwittingly adopted as she had struggled to come to grips with Micky's smashup of their marriage and lives.
After the speeches, there was a break, during which the hall filled with more laughter and animated chatter, while others had earnest discussions with each other. It was clear that the members had allowed themselves a few vices still, for the consumption of coffee, sweets and cigarettes during the break was on a scale of massive proportions. Micky and Jack chatted with other members while Gabby hung back and just listened after being introduced to each one.
After the break, there was a raffle held. As Gabby had entered the meeting, she had been given a raffle ticket but didn't know what it was for. Now the leader of the meeting was calling out ticket numbers and inviting the winners to come up and select a copy of the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous or another book of official AA literature of their choice. Gabby's ticket number was called and she shyly ventured to the front of the room, where she was encouraged to pick out a book, even as she mentioned she wasn't a member. She decided to select Alcoholics Anonymous: Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, so that she could read along with the book and figure out what it was that Micky was doing to work his program.
The second half of the meeting was reserved for members of the home group hosting the meeting to step up to the podium and share whatever was on their minds for a few minutes, relating it back to how it affected their recovery and how the program might help them address it. Gabby wondered whether Micky would go up and speak. She knew he valued his privacy as a celebrity, and had spent years shielding himself from public view. But she noticed his sponsor nudge his elbow and he reluctantly raised his hand to speak. After he was called upon, he went up to the front of the room, introduced himself and shared for a few minutes.
"Hi, I'm Micky D., and I'm an alcoholic and an addict." Everyone responded back to him "Hi, Micky!" Then he shared about how his week had gone, what trouble spots he felt he'd hit and how he'd addressed them, and then took a moment to breathe deeply and say what he felt needed to be said most. "There's someone here tonight to support me. She's my wife, and I almost lost her to this disease. Well, maybe I have lost her, the jury's still out. But she's here, and I'm grateful. I wake up every day knowing that I need to work this program so that I can have a chance to be with her again, but I know that's not enough. I have to work this program for myself so that I can live a life I can be proud of and that will let me live past the age of 30, with or without her. So if you're only working this program for someone else, it's probably not enough and you're likely to relapse. I've already had a few times I had to start over with a 24-hours sober chip because I had the wrong attitude.
"You've got to want it for yourself. Probably the reason why I ended up in this place was that I was living for other people or chasing an image I felt I had to live up to, and hiding all sorts of secrets about myself from me and them. Now I've got to get real and figure out who I am and how to live life without a crutch or a false persona or mask, to feel the feelings and just keep living anyway. No blinders, no buffers, nothing to numb me. Just life. I'm figuring out that if I do it that way, it's actually way less painful than what I felt when I was all fucked up and in denial about the kind of person I had become. That was exhausting and unsustainable. Now my life is simple. Get up, call my sponsor, go to meetings, don't drink. That's it. Everything else I get to do is a gift and an extra blessing. Thanks for listening to me."
Everyone said "Thanks, Micky," and he sat back down next to Jack, who clapped him on the shoulder and bobbed his head in approval. As they listened to a few more members share, Gabby decided to wait to process what Micky had said until later. She wanted to hear more about other members' stories and their take on how the program works. She was there to learn from others as much as to gain insight into Micky. It felt as important to her as to breathe to immerse herself fully in this whole experience, to walk through it the way Micky did so she could remember it and call upon the memory whenever she let her mind stray to the worrying thought that he might relapse. She was relieved to hear that he was surrounded by so many people who were really serious about recovering from alcoholism and who had succeeded and had long-term sobriety. Five years, ten years, thirty years. This above all made her feel a level of peace she hadn't approached since Micky left for Kansas and relapsed and went so far astray. She started to breathe heavily and a few tears dripped down her cheeks. Jack put his arm around her and whispered into her ear "Don't worry, Gabby. We've got his back. He can make it if he does the footwork."
The sharing came to a close and everyone joined hands in a circle to say a closing prayer. Gabby got jostled and found herself next to Micky, and they had bumped hands before they realized whose hand they had grabbed. They both blushed deeply and Micky's face indicated he'd be fine if she let his hand go, but she didn't. Not just because she didn't want to embarrass him or send him a signal of rejection, but because she actually did want to hold his hand. So she left her hand there and gave him a small smile of reassurance, which he gratefully received and returned with a smile of his own.
After the meeting, folks milled around for a while and Gabby noticed many of them heading out to continue their conversations in the parking lot or at the café down the street. Jack told her that fellowship, or "the meeting after the meeting," was a very important component of the program, and that it was also a good way to connect with a sponsor. He said that's how he and Micky met. They ambled down the street towards the café but didn't sit with the rowdy, jaunty members who were now swapping stories and socializing. They picked out a table of their own so that they could talk and Gabby could get to know Jack.
Over cups of coffee, Gabby asked "So, Jack, what's your story? Do you mind sharing it with me?"
Jack laughed and said "Of course not, I can do that in my sleep. Been doing it for 20 years so far. That's how long I've been in AA. I made it in here by the skin of my teeth when I was 27 years old. I had three main food groups – booze, cigarettes and coffee. I'd been fired from my job as a dock worker down in Long Beach at the L.A. Harbor. You know how hard it is to get fired from a union job?" He laughed at how ridiculously out of kilter his old way of living was with how he lived now.
"Anyway, I was down on my knees with nothing left in my life. After I lost my job, I lost my home, my wife, my kid and my self-respect. I was homeless for a while and I started riding the rails from town to town with all the other down-and-out bums and hobos. Did that for a couple years, scrounging up just enough money from itinerant work like fruit picking and other backbreaking stuff, which was all I was qualified for, and most of my pay would go to my three food groups. I was sick in body, mind and soul.
"One day, I wandered into a hobo camp and this guy came over to me and said he heard there was a church that was serving free eats. I hadn't had a real meal for days, so we rushed over to get some food. After we were done eating, I got lost on the way back from the men's room – which was a luxury for me to get to use, let me tell ya – I wandered into the wrong room and stumbled into an AA meeting. They had donuts and coffee laid out on a table at the back of the room, so I decided to hang around. That was my first meeting. I heard people tell their stories, but what I also heard were various parts of my own story. And I saw these people all looking clean, well-fed and happy. I wanted what they had. At the end of the meeting, someone came over to me and welcomed me and asked me about myself. I just went ahead and talked about what had brought me to the meeting and admitted I was only there for the food. The guy said that's okay, maybe you'll leave with something more than a full belly. He invited me to come back again and told me where other meetings met in that town and even rated which ones had the best eats!"
Gabby and Micky laughed at this absurd but touching tidbit.
"So that's where it started. I never did hop that next train with the other guy I came to the church with. He left the next day, but I stuck around. I found that same guy at the next meeting and stuck close to him, and he introduced me to more people. By the end of my second meeting, he told me he was going to be my sponsor and I just thought 'This guy is nuts! I'm just here for the food!' But I didn't want him to bar the door to me, so I kept coming back. And in the back of my mind, I think I wanted what those other people had even more than I wanted the coffee and donuts. I wanted to get out from under the hold the booze had over me. I wanted to get that happy, serene and solid look on my face that they had. I wanted to be able to talk about my day and how the boss drove me crazy and how the wife was a little annoying and the kids cost too much, but here's how I worked it out without drinking myself into a blackout or worse, a rage. I wanted to be able to complain with integrity!"
Again, Gabby and Micky were rolling with laughter at his droll philosophical take on the luxury of having everyday problems compared to battling deadly addiction.
"I got myself sober and I decided to move back to L.A. and see if I could get my old job at the docks back. I got lucky because there was a flu epidemic going around and they were short-handed. So that's where my sobriety started. Now I'm a leader in that union, protecting the rights of my fellow workers from lousy and unsafe work practices and in charge of dozens of crew members on a daily basis. I've remarried, have a couple of kids, I get to see my first kid, and my ex-wife let me make amends to her and she doesn't hate my guts. And I've gotten quite a few guys from my union to go to meetings and clean up their lives. So I've been sober for almost 20 years. In fact, it's coming up soon. I'd be proud if you'd come to the meeting when Micky gives me my twenty-year chip."
Gabby nodded and smiled. "I'd love to be there, Jack. Thank you for inviting me. And thank you for sharing your story. And thank you for helping Micky."
"Hey, you've got a lot of thank yous, Missus. That's a good thing. We call 'em gratitudes. I make Micky write a list of five every night before he goes to sleep. Wanna do yours now, Micky, together?"
Micky replied "Only if you do them too, Jack." He had a challenging smile on his face.
"Okay, smart aleck. I'll go first. I'm grateful for Micky not being given the job of making the coffee for tonight's meeting because his coffee sucks. I'm grateful for my wife and children. I'm grateful that I have a job that allows me to give them the life they deserve. I'm grateful that John's healing up from the dock accident and will be back in a week so he can start pulling his weight and earning a paycheck again. And I'm grateful for the program that allows me to have all these other things in my life. Okay, you go, Micky."
Micky closed his eyes and tried to summon his courage and marshal his thoughts. "I'm grateful to be sober today. I'm grateful for a group of friends who are so close we call them the family, though Gabby started that. I'm grateful that they're all giving me a chance to make amends to them. I'm grateful that I had an opportunity to give service at the meeting. And I'm grateful of course, most of all, that Gabby agreed to come to the meeting and meet you." He opened his eyes and looked directly at Gabby and said "Thank you, Gabby."
She bobbed her head and said "You're welcome, Micky. I was very glad to do it."
Jack pressed her. "Okay, Gabby, now you list five gratitudes."
She blushed, not anticipating being put on the spot, but she gulped and took up the challenge. "I'm grateful that Micky's in recovery. I'm grateful that he's got a sponsor with a lot of sobriety who knows what he's talking about. I'm grateful that for the first time since Micky left me and lost his mind, I'm not scared to be in the same room as him. I'm grateful that he's willing to meet me on my terms while I get over my fears and doubts. And I'm grateful that for the first time in a year or so, I got to stand next to my husband and hold his hand."
Gabby's heart was beating out a tattoo of drumbeats fit to burst out of her chest, and she started to breathe very hard. Micky's face clouded with concern and asked "Gabby, do you feel like you've had too much, do you want to leave?" She nodded and said "I'd appreciate it if you guys could walk me to my car."
They stood up and Micky whispered something to Jack. He looked puzzled but then decided to wait for an explanation later and just do as Micky asked. He put his arm around Gabby and asked in a soothing voice "Gabby, are you here with us now or are you floating?" Gabby said "I'm here with you. I think it's all just been a lot and I need to get some air and take some time to process it all." Satisfied that Gabby was still in a relatively coherent state of emotions, Micky steered them quickly to the exit of the noisy café and they began to walk back to the church. She gulped in big gasps of the cooler night air. Jack kept his arm around her and said "It's okay, Gabby. The first meeting is a tough one for a lot of people. If I hadn't been half in the bag myself for my first meeting, I probably would have been a mess, too." She laughed through her tears and gasping, and Micky mouthed a silent thanks to Jack above Gabby's head for using his humor to help ease her pain and discomfort.
They got back to her car and Jack asked "Are you okay to drive, Gabby?"
She sniffled, took a deeper, more even breath and said "Yeah, I'm good. This probably won't be my last meeting, if it's okay with you guys."
Micky and Jack nodded and Jack said "Hey, we always say 'Keep comin' back!' but only the lucky ones do. So I look forward to seeing you again." He extended his hand out to her, but she hugged him instead. She looked at Micky but didn't hug him. It wasn't time for that yet. She didn't know if or when it ever would be, but he hadn't done near enough to earn it or prove he was worthy of it. And this time, she didn't feel guilty about tipping her hand on those feelings or leaving him flapping in the breeze with that sort of inequity of the physical manifestation of welcome and trust between him and herself versus herself and a stranger she just met as a burden to bear. His sponsor could explain it to him if he couldn't figure it out himself. She felt confident of that now. She did say goodnight to him though.
"Goodnight, Micky. Thanks for inviting me to the meeting. I guess we need to pick another night to hang out with Dawn, Peter and the kids. Why don't you figure out what works with your meeting schedule and let me know through Robert. I pretty much don't have a social life so I'm free most nights, unless I'm working or traveling for work."
Micky said "Okay, will do. Goodnight." In his mind, he tucked away the small hint she seemed to be dropping to him that she really wasn't dating anyone, especially not Davy. She was keeping her schedule open for him, even though she was the one who by rights ought to be the one with the busier calendar and the one dictating the terms. Micky was appreciative of this lever of control she was handing to him. It was another sign of rebuilding trust and of her commitment to him and their marriage. It all went on his gratitude list as soon as she drove away.