Apollo shrugged.
Muttering about how useless and lazy gods were, Mother Nature strode to the bank of elevators where Mr. Balog was waiting.
She folded her arms and glared at him. “What?”
“I—uh, I thought you might want to know that the paranormal meeting place on Charles Street is reopening.”
Gaia’s eyes grew wide. “You mean that vampire hasn’t learned his lesson? The fire didn’t show him how dangerous a place like that was?”
“Yes, ma’am—I mean Mother—I mean Goddess.”
Trying to remain calm, she took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She counted to ten. Eventually, she slapped a hand over her eyes, gave up, and screamed. “Gaaaaah!”
Balog took a giant step back.
After her outburst, she felt better. An upholstered chair materialized under her butt and she plopped onto it. “Tell me everything you know.”
Balog smiled and said, “Everything I know? That might take a long time.”
Gaia rolled her eyes and mumbled, “I doubt it.”
Balog cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Goddess. I was just trying to lighten the mood. Of course you meant everything I know about the tea room.”
“Tea room?”
“Yes. Anthony Cross rebuilt the first floor of his building as a tea parlor. It’s quite fancy.”
Gaia’s jaw dropped. Then it occurred to her that if Anthony was trying to reopen a front for a supernatural gathering place, a tea room was an odd choice. “So, is he no longer trying to gather paranormals for some kind of deranged peace talks?”
“Oh, no. He’s up to his old tricks,” Balog continued with a smile. “I can’t wait to see the werewolves trying to hold those tiny watercress sandwiches in their big, meaty fingers.” He laughed, but she wasn’t amused.
“Are you sure your information is correct?”
“My intelligence-gathering has shown that the same customers who frequented the bar are interested in the grand opening of the tea parlor.”
Gaia was tempted to make a crack involving the word “intelligence,” but not even sarcasm would alleviate the worry invading her gut.
“So the paranormals are still planning to gather in a public place, increasing their risk of a slipup around humans. But it hasn’t opened yet?”
“Correct. The grand opening is the day after tomorrow at 11:00 a.m. I could take my wife, but I’d stick out by myself.”
It sounded as if the human crowd would likely be female. Observant, meddling, gossiping females. Gaia bent over and covered her face with her hands. “This is such a bad idea.”
“I’ll keep an eye on the place as always, Goddess. Reporting any problems to you immediately.”
“Well, do it from a distance. You can’t help me if your cover is blown.”
“I managed to rent the third-floor apartment from Mr. Cross again. Because my family lived there before the building burned, he gave us a chance to rent it first.” Balog puffed up his chest. “Apparently he still doesn’t know we’re spying on him.”
She rose and the chair disappeared. “Good, but I want to see this place for myself. You’re excused, Balog.”
She spun on her heel and marched over to her forest in the corner. “Now to create a hat that’s fit for a tea party.”
Claudia sat next to her sponsor, Gaye. When it came time to introduce herself, she said what she knew she was supposed to say, but it still felt strange and difficult. “My name is Claudia, and I’m an alcoholic.”
Everyone said, “Hi, Claudia,” like she hadn’t just confessed her worst secret…as if she’d just said, “I like ice cream.”
Her sponsor followed suit. “Hi, I’m Gaye, and I’m an alcoholic.”
Someone behind them chuckled and said, “So am I.”
Another deep voice echoed, “Me too.”
Gaye turned around. “Ha. Ha. Very funny.”
The room erupted in giggles, but Gaye smiled, taking the good-natured ribbing well. Claudia couldn’t help but be impressed with the woman’s unshakable serenity. She hoped someday she’d be that comfortable in her own skin.
Her mind was racing. The members were taking turns reading a paragraph at a time from the book outlining the twelve steps. When her turn came, she wasn’t even aware of what she was reading. All she could concentrate on was not stumbling over her words. She stumbled once anyway.
“Sheesh. I don’t think I comprehended a thing I just read,” she whispered to Gaye.
Gaye leaned toward her and whispered back, “Bring the body. The mind will follow.”
“But—”
“Shhh. ‘Learn to listen and listen to learn.’ We’ll talk later.”
The woman could be a hard-ass, but thank goodness she had someone with experience helping her through this. Claudia couldn’t imagine trying to navigate all the changes she was going through alone.
For the first month, Claudia couldn’t help crying easily when someone brought up a situation that had contributed to their problems—and hers. Poor self-esteem, isolation, fear…the emotional gamut. But her sponsor said it was normal to feel a little raw in the beginning, especially since she was feeling emotions she’d shut away or tried to dilute with alcohol. If only it had worked. The more she drank, the worse it got.
She’d gone from feeling pleasantly buzzed to crying uncontrollably when she’d drunk too much and self-pity kicked in. Someone described her struggle in a way Claudia could totally understand. She said she was a high-bottom drunk with low-bottom emotions. Another guy said he felt like he was in a slingshot when he drank. He never knew where he’d wind up.
For Claudia, the emotions were the worst part. She’d never woken up on a stranger’s front lawn or passed out in a friend’s closet while looking for the bathroom, but she identified with the feelings of shame expressed at meetings when even the toughest guys cracked.
No one she’d heard speak in AA had the exact circumstances she did—a dear departed sister and survivor’s guilt—but everyone seemed to understand her tears and fears nonetheless.
Her sister, Marion, was two years older and the “better” daughter. Claudia should have been driving that night, but Marion came to get her because Claudia had celebrated her high-school graduation a little too much. You’d think that would have made Claudia want to stop drinking—and it did, for a while. But nothing dulled the pain like oblivion.
After the meeting, she and Gaye went out for ice cream. Gaye had encouraged her to complete the twelve steps of the AA program. The first time Claudia read them, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Make amends? How the hell was she supposed to do that with her parents? Her tendency had been to make up for feelings of inferiority by overachieving. It didn’t exactly work, but at least she felt less like a schmuck.
“I’ve been trying, but I can’t take all these steps at once,” she confessed to Gaye. “For once, I want to be less than perfect.”
“It’s not a contest, and rushing through the steps won’t do you any good. In fact, it could mess you up even more. But you’re not alone. Lots of people have thought it was impossible. You’ll take the steps as you’re ready for them,” Gaye said. “And I’ll help you.”
“I’m having a hard time just letting memories wash over me and facing reality without a drink.”
“That’s normal.”
“But how do I cope when that happens?”
“You call me.”
“And if you’re not available?”
“Leave me a message and then call someone else. Or if for some reason, you can’t reach anyone, repeat the Serenity Prayer or something like ‘This too shall pass’ until I call you back.”