In the Nick of Time (72 page)

“I’m not in denial, it’s just… I guess, hell, maybe I have been,” the man said woefully. “I must say this conversation is going much more different than I imagined. I’ve been listening to you, taking in what you’re telling me. Some things I agree with, some I question… but you have given me some food for thought.”

“Well, that’s a start. Nobody wants to admit this is what has happened, but you have to. She’s one of the most self-aware people I’ve ever known. What Taryn did was help show me how to start the process, you see? That’s one of the hardest parts. She already knew how—she’d been through this too many times. My struggle was getting to the heart of my problem, really taking a good look at what started this whole mess. It was too painful, too upsetting. I don’t like to feel stuff like that. I don’t like being upset or focusing on myself like that.”

“You’re macho.” Mr. Jones chuckled. “You look the part, but I know there’s more to you. I can see that now.”

“Macho, machismo, is code word for male hurt. That’s all the hell it is… Addiction is personal, but it affects everyone. It reaches out like octopus tentacles and wraps its slimy arms around every-damn-body who cares about us. Your daughter understood this. Her issue was accepting that things had changed, that she had to start over and in a whole new and different way. We had totally different battles, but they required the same amount of work and dedication. She was my personal trainer, and I was hers.”

“So, you’ve found a kindred spirit? In my child, no less…”

“Yes.” He nodded, his lips kinked in a grin. “She’s my best friend. Some people, including yourself, think our relationship is a mistake. If she is a mistake for me, then she is the best one I’ve ever made.” He chuckled, causing the man to offer a stilted laugh or two. “I just want to love her in peace, ya know? I’ve loved her through walls, I’ve loved her through secrets and a bunch of whispers, I’ve loved her through notes and dreams, through tears and insurmountable pain. It’s time for something else. It’s time to love her through joy.”

“Nick, I… I am honestly impressed by you. I can’t say that I feel great about this, but I do feel a bit better. I trust that you want what is best for Taryn, at least that is your intention.”

“Do you know what was one of the first things she said to me when she realized I liked her as more than a friend?”

“What?”

“That she couldn’t be with a user, an addict. Taryn didn’t want another loser, Mr. Jones. She wanted someone who could understand her, have her back, and love her with everything they had. She had to see me working that program, and working it hard, and she has to see me continue to be serious about my recovery. I go to my meetings, I talk to her, we communicate. I don’t believe for one second she would stay with me if I started abusing again. Maybe after one relapse, or even two, but once it became an ongoing problem, she’d turn her damn back and walk away. I can
never
let that happen… not today, not tomorrow, not next year or the year after that.

“I know who I am and how I operate, even in my sickness. As for you believing she chooses the wrong men, well, I can’t answer for why she picked the guys she did in the past. All I care about is that
this
time, she chose
me
, and she chose wisely.”

“Hmmm.” The man laughed lightly. “Yes, I can appreciate that.”

“And I love your daughter, Robert. I am so in love with her that I would protect her at all costs, even if I had to give up my own life or step out of hers, just as I said… even if in protecting her, I must safeguard her from
me
.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, caught up with the thought of leaving her, and that hurt too damn much…but he meant what he’d said.

“She makes me feel like I can do whatever I put my mind to. She gave me strength when I was weak and at my lowest point. She has seen things in me that no one else has seen because I trusted her enough to show her. She’d earned it, and I needed it. She helped teach me how to love myself and in that process, my heart opened up. It ended up with me realizing I was worthy of getting and staying clean, that I
meant
something!” He beat on his chest. “Robert, she’s my world! Your daughter is your child, but she’s my
everything
and she lives in my heart!”

His confessions moved out of his mind and rolled off his tongue, voiced with the greatest of ease. He wanted this man to understand the depths to which he loved his flower’s very soul, but no words could truly describe it, for they hadn’t been invented yet.

“If for some reason Taryn and I don’t work out, Robert, I’ll still have what she taught me. She uh…” He took a deep breath. “That lady, my flower, will
forever
be my Love, and you raised a hell of a woman… I applaud you and your wife. You created the best gift I’ve ever received in my entire life, and I have no intentions of being careless with her.”

More silence ensued, this time, not a hefty or uncomfortable one, but the kind of hush that was home grown from the heart and soul’s garden due to an overwhelming need, and that need sprouted wings and took flight high up into the heavens.

RELEASE…

“Thank you for talking to me, Nick. This conversation has been… wow, just kind of speechless. Anyway, I’d like to speak to you a bit longer, but I understand you have things to do and I myself am late for a very important meeting. I also promised to not take too much of your time, but we’ve talked for quite a while. I was so engrossed in the dialogue, I lost track of time.”

“We’ll talk more soon.”

“Yes, I’m certain we will… Nick, can you do me a favor?”

“I don’t know. Depends on what it is.” He sat up and turned his car on, stretched his legs a bit.

“Can you tell Taryn about our chat and have her call me, please? I really need to speak with her.”

“Yes, I will tell her.”

“Thank you… One last thing, you make it seem like in some ways she saved you. Well, she said the same thing about you…”

A slow warmth took root and grew across his chest, titillating his heart from the words spoken.

“Initially, I honestly thought Taryn had lost her mind. I didn’t understand.”

Nick burst out laughing at that for he couldn’t help himself. “Of course you didn’t. I’m sure you aren’t the only one, but things happen…”

“Yes, but now, it’s starting to make more sense. It’s strange, almost like you two rehearsed this, but I know that’s impossible. She said that you gave her a new reason to smile in the morning… that you said things that made her challenging days better, and you would push her past her own limitations. She said you embraced and loved her for
her
. No supermodel obsessive bullcrap, and for the first time in a
long
time, she felt she was being loved and cherished. So, she decided to give love a try one more time.”

“One more day of life is one more try… She and I are trying
together
. There’s nothing ugly or wrong about that, Mr. Jones. Matter of fact, it’s wonderfully right. Love isn’t intelligent, but intelligence knows a good thing when it sees it… and I’ve found a damn good thing…”

T
here are seventy-seven
police precincts in New York City. There are twelve Transit Districts and Nine PSAs. I work in the 73rd Precinct. That number has been like a football jersey for me, one worn with pride. My uniform arrived fresh, dry cleaned and pressed. My badge sparkled and my hat appeared brand new. But I didn’t want a brand new hat; I wanted my old one… I was assured that it was…

He closed his journal, placed it in the glove box, got out of the car, and headed towards the place. The tightening in his stomach was laced with the freshly spun juices of anticipation. He inhaled deeply, getting high off the possibilities. His fingers twitched, sliding against one another in a strange fashion before he clasped the cold, metal handle of the front door. The scent of hot coffee intermingled with the strong odor of Lysol, as if the cleaning crew had just left the building. The din and smells of the area came for him…overheated, hard working copiers and computers amalgamated with the melee of other scents, creating a concoction he’d almost long forgotten. When he opened the second set of doors, he didn’t expect much—a nod here and there, a ‘Welcome Back’ from Officer Clark, the friendliest of the bunch. But, he soon found himself face down on the ground with four uniformed and armed motherfuckers clobbering him, going at his limbs with playful punches, laughing their damn asses off.

“Shit! What are you doing?!” He scratched against the linoleum floor, his hat now tilted to the side like a damn beret as the TS Operator snickered away, turning red and pointing at him. Finally, he succumbed and accepted his mock demise.

“Welcome back, you bastard!” someone screamed out. The sinking feeling in his gut let out as if someone had flushed a goddamn toilet. In its place sat a big yellow life preserver, along with an ‘all teeth’ showing smile spread across a ruddy face. His eyes glassed over from the fun of it all, though he was certain his back would be bruised from the rumpus. Soon, the heavy weight came off him and inviting arms stretched downward. He stopped. He stared. He looked at those hands, all of them different colors, shapes and sizes, extended in his direction—some big, some smaller. A few brandished shimmery wedding bands… others wore old scars… The hands waved at him, offering a way up, from being down… These were his brothers and sisters.

These were his ‘good’ outlaws,
bandidos
,
compañeros
. They’d replaced the street creed with street beats. They imbued the bloodshot eyes of an all but forgotten Brownsville boy, who would peer through shattered glass windows at a broken, ugly world, with a hint of hope and a vision for the future. He grabbed hold of a dark brown hand with one palm, and a creamy tan one with his other.

My brothers… my sisters…
mi familia…

“Uhhh…” With a heave, he was on his feet. He immediately fixed his hat, dusted his knees off, and looked about while new bands of chatter commenced. His friends dispersed, like nothing had happened, like nothing had changed, and for that, he was deeply grateful. He’d been gone for seven months total, but it felt like a fucking lifetime. He realized he was still very much addicted—not to alcohol, but to his damn job. He dreamed about it practically every night, scouring for information about who was doing what, wishing so much to touch base with the ones his heart beat for.

But… he wanted to see them face-to-face, look them square in the eye, and earn their trust once more. He’d left a coward, not wishing for them to see his damn face as he took his walk of shame, a tour of his fractured internal world hidden from the masses. However, he’d returned new and strong, standing erect, ready to earn that damn respect. He continued to trudge forward as yells of, ‘Welcome back, Vitale!’ echoed throughout the place. He passed the Complaint Room, shot Patricia a wink as she waved in his direction and entered information into her computer.

As he navigated to the area his desk used to be in, drawing closer and closer, his chest drew tight. His breathing increased and he blinked several times, trying to make sense of the matter.