Doctor Sleep (The Shining, #2)(56)
Casey was sitting in a booth when Dan came in on a July afternoon in 2011, and although Casey hadn’t made it to retirement just yet, to Dan his longtime AA sponsor (and first New Hampshire employer) looked very old. Most of his hair was gone, and he walked with a pronounced limp. He needed a hip replacement, but kept putting it off.
Dan said hi, sat down, folded his hands, and waited for what Casey called The Catechism.
“You sober today, Danno?”
“Yes.”
“How did that miracle of restraint happen?”
He recited, “Thanks to the program of Alcoholics Anonymous and the God of my understanding. My sponsor may also have played a small part.”
“Lovely compliment, but don’t blow smoke up my dress and I won’t blow any up yours.”
Patty Noyes came over with the coffeepot and poured Dan a cup, unasked. “How are you, handsome?”
Dan grinned at her. “I’m good.”
She ruffled his hair, then headed back to the counter, with a little extra swing in her stride. The men followed the sweet tick-tock of her hips, as men do, then Casey returned his gaze to Dan.
“Made any progress with that God-of-my-understanding stuff???”
“Not much,” Dan said. “I’ve got an idea it may be a lifetime work.”
“But you ask for help to stay away from a drink in the morning?”
“Yes.”
“On your knees?”
“Yes.”
“Say thank you at night?”
“Yes, and on my knees.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to remember the drink put me there,” Dan said. It was the absolute truth.
Casey nodded. “That’s the first three steps. Give me the short form.”
“?‘I can’t, God can, I think I’ll let Him.’?” He added: “The God of my understanding.”
“Which you don’t understand.”
“Right.”
“Now tell me why you drank.”
“Because I’m a drunk.”
“Not because Mommy didn’t give you no love?”
“No.” Wendy had had failings, but her love for him—and his for her—had never wavered.
“Because Daddy didn’t give you no love?”
“No.” Although once he broke my arm, and at the end he almost killed me.
“Because it’s hereditary?”
“No.” Dan sipped his coffee. “But it is. You know that, right?”
“Sure. I also know it doesn’t matter. We drank because we’re drunks. We never get better. We get a daily reprieve based on our spiritual condition, and that’s it.”
“Yes, boss. Are we through with this part?”
“Almost. Did you think about taking a drink today?”
“No. Did you?”
“No.” Casey grinned. It filled his face with light and made him young again. “It’s a miracle. Would you say it’s a miracle, Danny?”
“Yes. I would.”
Patty came back with a big dish of vanilla pudding—not just one cherry on top but two—and stuck it in front of Dan. “Eat that. On the house. You’re too thin.”
“What about me, sweetheart?” Casey asked.
Patty sniffed. “You’re a horse. I’ll bring you a pine tree float, if you want. That’s a glass of water with a toothpick in it.” Having gotten the last word, she sashayed off.
“You still hitting that?” Casey asked as Dan began to eat his pudding.
“Charming,” Dan said. “Very sensitive and New Age.”
“Thanks. Are you still hitting it?”
“We had a thing that lasted maybe four months, and that was three years ago, Case. Patty’s engaged to a very nice boy from Grafton.”
“Grafton,” Casey said dismissively. “Pretty views, shit town. She doesn’t act so engaged when you’re in the house.”
“Casey—”
“No, don’t get me wrong. I’d never advise a pidge of mine to stick his nose—or his dick—into an ongoing relationship. That’s a terrific setup for a drink. But . . . are you seeing anybody?”
“Is it your business?”
“Happens it is.”
“Not currently. There was a nurse from Rivington House—I told you about her . . .”
“Sarah something.”
“Olson. We talked a little about moving in together, then she got a great job down at Mass General. We email sometimes.”
“No relationships for the first year, that’s the rule of thumb,” Casey said. “Very few recovering alkies take it seriously. You did. But Danno . . . it’s time you got regular with somebody.”
“Oh gee, my sponsor just turned into Dr. Phil,” Dan said.
“Is your life better? Better than it was when you showed up here fresh off the bus with your ass dragging and your eyes bleeding?”
“You know it is. Better than I ever could have imagined.”
“Then think about sharing it with somebody. All I’m saying.”
“I’ll make a note of it. Now can we discuss other things? The Red Sox, maybe?”