Sober
(Previously published at Poetry Catalog)
I lost Natalia’s hand last summer.
I wished for a return to her lips
by September, but here it was winter.
A misunderstanding and deceit
by association did me in.
I used to drink.
I mean, like, really drink.
But I found my way out
of the disease that my father
passed along,
which was all he gave me.
But beggars can’t be choosey.
I wasn’t.
That was until I realized it was my life to blow.
The pity I spent cost me its undivided attention,
backstabbing my self-esteem.
I sipped three glasses of wine
to doze off in a parking lot of bad ideas.
I didn’t know Sara was the Sara
that Natalia told me stories about.
And Sara didn’t know I was the man she was always blabbing about.
It happened, but not what she thought happened.
I couldn’t drive. I wasn’t awake.
A friend of a friend asked if I could stay the night.
I wasn’t sure how the conversation went,
but I slept on the couch.
And the friend rested in her bed.
Natalia arrived to take Sara to brunch.
“Sara?” Natalia said, closing the door behind her.
“Be a minute,” Sara said.
Natalia plopped into a chair next to me.
We made eye contact.
Natalia balled her hands. “I knew it,” Natalia said, raining haymakers anywhere she could reach.
Sara entered the room. “Hey!” She pulled Sara back.
Natalia caught her breath. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”
Sara lifted and lowered her arms. “Will someone tell me what’s going on here?”
“That’s my boyfriend.” Natalia motioned and paced.
Sara’s eyes widened. “I had no idea.” She held up her hands like a person with nothing to hide.
“Ugh! I can’t believe you,” Natalia said as she connected a left hook across Sara’s jaw.
I apologized to Sara.
She placed a rag over her mouth and applied pressure.
I opened and closed my hands. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, but I think you should leave.”
“Knowing Natalia, she’ll be back.”
“To apologize,” Sara said.
I buttoned my shirt. I moved to the door.
Before twisting the handle, I glanced over my shoulder.
“It’s not your fault.”
I gave her a neutral glare, twisted the knob,
and left, closing that episode behind me.
It was just after Christmas when I sat on a park bench.
Fresh snow covered the park. Skeletal hickory trees made for good pictures to send the family back east.
I read a book on my Kindle app. Relationship books and books about the Bible stirred my curiosity.
A voice caught me off guard.
A woman danced on the walkway. She kicked and swam for air. A thud and a groan paused the universe from collecting its revenge on someone.
I moved close. I rested my hands on my hips. “That’s what you get,” I told Natalia.
She moaned, and then she cackled to tears.
“I was wrong,” Natalia said as I guided her to her feet.
“I’ve been keeping tabs on you.”
We took a seat on the bench.
“For what?” I said. The snowflakes mixed with my tears, spreading across my cheeks.
“That night you slept at Sara…” Natalia paused.
“It was an-”
“No.” Natalia shook her head.
“I guess I don’t understand.” The corners of my eyes narrowed.
“I wanted you to sober up.” Natalia covered her face and laughed. “It wasn’t the best plan.”
“Plan?”
Natalia fit herself into my frame. “You know you needed to sober up.”
“It worked.” I choked back a lump in my throat.
“Can I have you back?”
“I never left.” I kissed her.
(© 2024 AC)
