Chapter 4
___________
Lyra
I pulled up outside the first client of the day, a ball of nerves spinning in my gut. Despite my usual morning exercises and healthy breakfast, I was emotional after lying to myself again.
Why was it so difficult to only have one drink?
Guilt swirled in my chest. I shouldn”t have drunk that third glass of vino, even if it did take the edge off my stressful day at work. I needed to be stronger. I couldn”t let people”s messed up situations, like Tanya and memories of Dad”s addiction, control me and make me feel down. I was supposed to be a social worker. How could I help people recover if I couldn”t even listen to my own advice?
But that wasn”t the only reason I felt jittery. My mind was a flurry of worries after that strange sensation during breakfast. I could have sworn someone was spying on me as I ate that banana. It started the moment I pulled back the peel: an alluring scent wafted through the air, making me feel horny and aroused.
Then, as I nibbled the end, it was like the fruit was alive, jerking about in my mouth as I wrapped my lips around the tip and dug my teeth in. For some bizarre reason, I felt as if a naked being was watching me feast on the fruit, getting off on me munching away at the phallic morning snack.
The most worrying part was how wet I felt after. I”d never been that turned on eating a banana, at least not the fruity type.
A knock on the window startled me.
”What”s uuuuuup?” shouted Charlie in his usual croaky tone. I glanced at his hand and was surprised that instead of holding a whole wheat bagel, it was a half-eaten apple.
I wound the window down and frowned.
”What”s going on, Charlie? Have you gone all fruity on me?”
”Chance would be a fine thing,” he said, chuckling. ”I guess my guilty conscience caught up with me after being called the Cookie Monster by that kid. It got me thinking. Kids see the truth, don”t they? Even if we don”t.”
”Yeah, maybe they do,” I said, a flashback of my first taste of the hard stuff creeping into my mind.
I remember wincing when my neighbor Al handed me that bottle of Malibu he”d stolen from his parents” drinking cabinet. I knew the truth then, or at least my body did. Shame I didn”t listen to my own senses. I literally forced myself to like the potent stuff. It was just what everyone did, unaware of the long-term effects.
”Are you coming in then? Or am I going to face the next family of booze-loving victims on my own with a browning apple core?”
”I”m coming,” I said, laughing as I left the car.
As I stood up, I felt jittery. I hoped I wasn”t getting a delayed hangover. I took a sip of water to calm my nerves. I had to get my shit together and focus on what I could change, not on my regrets again.
”What”s the deal today?” I asked Charlie as I followed behind.
”Haven”t you checked the app?” he asked while biting his apple.
”No. I don”t tend to until I”m on-site. You know that.”
”Oh well,” he said with his mouthful. ”Have a look. We”re in for a fun morning.”
We continued down the sidewalk, and I checked our app. Charlie was right: another family of four controlled by the dreaded booze. This time, it was the husband asking for help. He said his wife was uncontrollable, going off the rails at him and the kids constantly. She was causing mayhem, and he needed assistance. He couldn”t deal with her spirit-laced outbursts any longer.
”I see what you mean,” I said, slipping my cell into my purse.
”Don”t you just love it?” he asked.
”Love what?”
”So many fucked up families. Who the hell invented alcohol anyway? Later on, I”ll find out who is responsible for this madness and give them a piece of my mind.”
”Good luck with that one. I”m sure you”ll find they”re dead, but it would be interesting to know how this all started.”
”Yeah, it would. Okay, here we are,” said Charlie, stopping outside a wooden gate.
I looked up at the standard house. There were no smashed windows or piles of trash in the yard. Everything looked normal and in order, but I knew how that worked. I knew the tricks of making everything seem all right to disguise the truth.
As we strolled up the path, I waited for the usual onslaught of abuse from the kids or a raging dog, but a blissful silence ensued.
Charlie slipped his apple core under a metal trash can lid and rang the bell.
”Yes?” whispered a male voice.
”Todd Boyle?” asked Charlie.
”That”s me,” said Todd. ”One second.”
After the clanking of a few bolts, Todd Boyle opened the door. He was a tall, skinny man wearing beige pants and a black shirt. He pushed his glasses back over his nose and grinned nervously.
”Have you come to help?” he asked in a soft, squeaky voice.
”We”ll try,” I said. ”I”m Lyra, and this is Charlie. We”re social workers.”
”Great,” he said, clenching his fists. ”I”m so glad you”re here. Moana is asleep. She passed out again after her morning drink.”
”Morning drink?” asked Charlie.
”Sure, she has a different drink for every part of the day: vino in the morning, brew for lunch, and a hefty bucket of Nectar of the Gods for dinner to help her sleep.”
”Can we come in?” I asked, ignoring the blast of pity forming in my stomach.
”Be my guest.”
Todd moved to the side and nodded us in. After hearing about his wife”s healthy drinking habits, I was expecting their house to be a disaster, but it looked like Todd had everything under control. The hall was tidy, with the shoes neatly arranged, and a pleasant, clean smell drifting in the air. Luckily, one of them had their shit together.
Todd stopped by a door.
”She must be still asleep,” he said, tilting his head for us to look.
Daring to take a peek, tears began to build up behind my eyes when I saw Moana sprawled out on the floor, an empty bottle of wine by her head. ”She”s best like that,” he added, waving us to follow as he went to the kitchen.
We walked through, and Todd shut the door quietly.
”Take a seat,” he said, pointing to a small table in the middle. ”Can I get you guys a drink?”
Drink?
My eyes lit up when I saw a bottle of Rioja on the side, but then I reminded myself I was trying to help an alcoholic, not start the day with a soothing glass of red wine.
”I”ll have water,” said Charlie.
”Me too.”
As Todd opened the fridge, I glanced inside to check their diet. A range of healthy foods were on the shelves: eggs, meats, and fruit. Todd knew how to live a healthy life, so why wasn”t his dear wife following his example?
The same reason that most of us didn”t.
Todd filled two glasses with water, placed them on the table, and sat down with a sigh. He looked like a beaten man, a drained husband desperate for a helping hand.
”So, tell us, Todd, how can we help?” asked Charlie.
”I can”t deal with her anymore,” he said, clearing his throat as his eyes misted over. ”She”s driving me nuts, shouting at me and the kids. They”re old enough to see the effect the drink has on her. When they were kids, they couldn”t tell, but now they know when their Mom is on the giggle juice.”
”I guess they”re at school?” I asked.
”Sure, are. That”s one thing I”m grateful for; my kids listen to me when it comes to education, unlike her.”
”It must be hard for you,” said Charlie.
”It”s unbearable. Do you know how it feels to watch someone you love being taken by the booze and turned into a drink-obsessed monster? Slowly killing herself? She used to be fit and healthy, but, bit by bit, her soul is being clouded by this damn drug.”
I almost looked away to stop getting more emotional, but I dug deep for extra strength.
”We know how you feel, Todd,” I said. ”You”re not the only family to suffer like this.”
”Thanks,” he whispered, tears building up behind his eyes.
”How often does she drink?” asked Charlie.
”Whenever she can. It sounds terrible, but I”m glad she broke her ankle and can”t get about. She fell down the stairs drunk. Now, at least I have some control over her, but her will to drink and destroy herself is hard to handle.”
”I bet,” I said as flashes of Dad during his heavy drinking days popped into my mind.
A wave of guilt rolled across my shoulders. If that wasn”t enough for me to remember that only one drink was enough, would nothing work?
”What can you do for us?” asked Todd.
”Moana needs to get dry in one of our clinics,” said Charlie. ”Once she clean, maybe she”ll reason and see the light, as it were.”
”But how will she get clean? She”s addicted. I”ll never persuade her to go anywhere like that.”
”We”ll have to take her in,” I said. ”She”ll need therapy with professionals, and then, once the alcohol is out of her system, maybe she”ll make that vital change.”
”But away from here?”
”It”s the only way.”
”THE ONLY WAY FOR WHAT?” shouted Moana, appearing in the doorway holding her crutch in the air. Her hair was a mess and her light blue top covered in sweat patches.
”Oh, hi, Moana,” said Charlie, turning to face her. ”I”m Charlie, and this is Lyra. We”re social workers.”
”YOU”RE WHAT?” she screamed, glaring at Todd. ”You treacherous bastard, bringing strangers into my home. I”m going to kill them both.”
Her eyes filled with rage as she pulled back her crutch and launched it towards me. I ducked down, expecting it to whack me on the back. But, miraculously, the crutch dropped on the table with a clunk.
”Holy shit,” said Charlie, scrambling to his feet. ”We”re here to help Moana. You”ll have to calm down, or the cops will be here in seconds.”
”The fuck they will,” she said, limping into the kitchen. ”I want these bandits out of my kitchen?” cried Moana, glaring at Todd with venom.
”But you heard the man, Honey,” said Todd. ”They”ve come to help. You need to get dry.”
”Where”s the fun in that?” she said, wiping her sweaty brow as she struggled forward.
Todd sprung to his feet and blocked her, but she pushed him out of the way, and he knocked backwards into the fridge.
”Get the fuck out of my house, or I”ll lock you both in my cellar,” she said, clenching her teeth as she grabbed the bottle of wine and raised it over her head.
I had to do something. I couldn”t stand for this treatment. Even if Moana was off her face, it was no excuse to treat us like that.
”Put the bottle down, Moana,” I said, holding my hands up. ”You don”t need to do this.”
”What the fuck would you know?” she said, leering at me. ”How dare you come into my house thinking you can help. Anyway, I don”t need help: all I need is a scotch. Get me a drink, you useless excuse for a husband.” She glanced at Todd. He was stunned, staring at her with fear brimming in his eyes.
”Put the bottle down,” said Charlie. ”No one needs to get hurt.”
And then, as if another force was controlling her, she lowered her arm, placing the bottle on the table.
”Get out of my sight,” she said, falling back into a chair.
I glanced at Charlie, and he nodded towards the door.
”I think we”d better go,” said Charlie.
”That”s the best thing I”ve heard all week. Thanks, Fatso.” Charlie glared at Moana. She winked back. ”What?” She shrugged, oblivious to the damage she”d caused.
”We”re going,” I said, squeezing Charlie”s shoulder gently. He was breathing heavier, and his blood pressure was rising.
”Good, now piss off back to where you came from,” said Moana. ”Todd, get me my scotch.”
As Moana turned her attention to her alcohol slave, I guided Charlie towards the door. No sooner had we left the kitchen than a wave of relief rolled across my shoulders.
”Jesus, that was intense,” I whispered, taking a deep breath.
”Great start to the day,” he said, pacing quicker. ”Some people are beyond help.”
We reached the door, and Todd came sprinting towards us, waving his hands about in distress.
”I”m so sorry about that,” he said. ”Will you come back when my wife calms down?”
”Sure, we”ll put you on the list,” I said.
”A very, long list,” said Charlie.
”What”s the supposed to mean?” he said, rage burning in his eyes.
”For us to help people, they need to want to be helped, even just a tiny bit.”
”I”ll convince her,” said Todd in an unconvincing tone.
”Okay, good luck with that,” I said. ”Here”s my card. Let us know when Moana”s stopped throwing her crutches around.”
”I will,” he said, taking my card.
We walked down the path and made our way to our cars. I glanced back as Todd shut the door, a look of dismay spread across his face.
”Fatso,” said Charlie as he looked down at his belly. ”Haven”t heard that one in a while.”
”Oh, I”m sorry, Charlie,” I said, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. ”Don”t listen to her; she”s a drunk, remember.”
”I know she is, but it”s hard getting so much abuse every day. I need to sort myself out,” he said, sighing. ”Do you mind if I miss the next one? I want to join a gym.”
”Good for you,” I said. ”That”s taking positive action. I”ll handle the next one.”
”Thanks, I”ll catch you up after lunch,” he said, getting in his car.
”Right you are,” I said, winking. ”I”ll call you later.”
”Sure thing.”
I turned and walked towards my car. I went to check the app about the next appointment, when Mom called me.
”Hey, Mom.”
”Lyra, come quick,” said Mom, her voice a slurry panic.
”What”s up?”
”I”ve had a fall. I think I”ve broken my leg.”
”Oh shit. Okay, don”t move. I”ll be there in ten.”
”Thanks, hurry,” she said before hanging up.
Perfect, another problem to solve. Thank God I didn”t finish that bottle last night and I”m gaining strength to face my own issues.