Page 75 of The Lipstick Flip

I took out my phone.

I stared at it for a while.

If there wasn’t beer in the refrigerator, there’d be some down the street. Just drive to the FastLane. Hell, I could walk. It was only a few blocks.

I stared at the phone some more.

There was this part of me that didn’t wake up all that often. But every once in a while, there he was: angry, stubborn, ornery as fuck. Tired of feeling like shit. Tired of feeling helpless. I was a grown-ass man; why the fuck was I supposed to call somebody just because I wanted a beer at the end of a long day?

And then it was over, and I just felt tired, and I called Ed.

“Hey,” he said. In the background, it sounded like his wife was watching Jeopardy! Too late for the broadcast. She must have recorded it.

“Si’s awake.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Glad to hear it. She having visitors?”

“They said to give her a day or two.”

“All right.”

The silence stretched out until it was so tight I could have pulled on it.

“I got in a fight with Noah.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Bad one.”

“Mm.”

My face felt hot. My eyes stung. “So.”

“You thinking about using?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

And then there the silence was again, like a piece of wire.

“I was thinking I might have a beer.”

“Well, I don’t recommend it.”

“Yeah.” I laughed and wiped my face. “I know.”

“You want me to look up a meeting for you?”

“No, I just needed to say it out loud.”

“How about you go to a meeting?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Okay.”

“You want me to pick you up?”

I shook my head. Then I said, “They’ve got one at the Baptist church at midnight.”