Twelve Steps to Normal(79)

A few minutes later, the front door opens. Nonnie stands there dressed in full Freddie Mercury attire. She’s wearing a white button-down and slacks with a fur-lined red cape draped over her shoulders, a magnificent jeweled crown resting on top of her head.

“Can I sit down?” she asks.

I nod, surprising myself that I’m eager for company.

We’re quiet. A trio of little girls dressed as the Powerpuff Girls come up to get candy. I give them each a handful.

When they walk away, I turn to Nonnie. “Are you always Freddie Mercury for Halloween?”

She folds a hand over her chest. “It would be a sin if I weren’t.”

I feel the corners of my mouth turn up.

“Aha!” she exclaims. “There it is. I was wondering if I’d ever see you smile again.”

Shame trickles through me. “My dad hates me.”

“Oh, child, no, he doesn’t.” Her voice is heartbreakingly gentle. It makes me feel even worse. “Your father cares about you so much. You gave us all quite a scare the other night, that’s all.”

We’re interrupted by another group of trick-or-treaters dressed in various Marvel superhero costumes. I give them each a generous amount of candy and watch them run over to the next house.

“Sometimes genuine concern can come off aggressively,” Nonnie says. “That’s only the panic talking. Trust me. I spent years thinking my brother despised me.”

“Your brother?” I repeat, a little surprised. I didn’t know Nonnie had siblings.

“Oh yeah.” She leans back on the porch swing. “He took me in when I was living in New York. Thought he’d find me dead in a gutter if he didn’t. I was reckless when I drank, and every time I came home obliterated he’d scream at me. Sometimes until he was hoarse.” She pats my knee. “But that’s because he was overly concerned about me, especially since I don’t have the greatest track record.”

“Why?” I have a hard time imagining someone as confident and carefree as Nonnie depending on an excess of alcohol as a release.

She’s silent for a moment. “It was an easy way to escape my self-hatred.” Her hand smooths over the fur lining of her cape. “It never made things better.”

I nod, knowing—in a sense—how she feels. It never helped my dad escape his depression after losing Grams.

“I didn’t meet that faux Freddie on the subway until years after Charles and I divorced,” she continues. “I didn’t cope well with his affair in the beginning. I blamed myself. I drank to try and feel good again, but I was slowly spiraling out of control. I said awful things to my parents—to my brother Paul—but he never gave up on me. Not until the day he died.”

It’s strange. In the back of my mind I knew Nonnie was at Sober Living for the same reasons as my dad. It’s hard to picture her as that person.

“That’s why I won’t give up on Saylor. I never had a chance to reconcile with my parents, but he does. He will. Forgiving someone isn’t always easy, but it’s possible.”

I pick at a loose strand of fabric on the rocker. I remember what she told me that night we talked in my bedroom. You always have to forgive your own mistakes. Otherwise they’ll eat you alive.

I know what I should do.

I pull my knees close to my chest. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. I feel my throat tighten. “I didn’t mean what I said that night.”

“Of course you did,” Nonnie says gently. “And that’s okay, I promise you that. Emotions are what keep us alive. It’s what needed to be said, and I know it’s what you needed your father to hear. While I accept your apology, I want you to know I don’t blame you.”

I feel tears fall down my cheeks. She’s being so kind. So understanding. I don’t deserve it.

“Coming home late with a boy wasn’t your smartest move, but granted, your father never did give you a chance to explain, did he?” She shrugs. “We all make mistakes. It’s what keeps us interesting, but it also shouldn’t destroy the relationship you have with him.”

My chest tightens with emotion. I don’t want to be on bad terms with my dad. I know he didn’t leave me to go to rehab for selfish reasons—it was his choice to get help. Not just for himself, but also for the people he cares about. For me. And if I’m being honest, I didn’t only come back for my friends and my normal school life. I also came back for him.

“Nonnie?”

She glances down at me.

“Thank you.”

She pats my leg. “Freddie said he liked to be surrounded by splendid things, and I agree.” She smiles. “But you know what? You’re one of them.”

My tears fall faster. “I’ve been horrible.”

“Darling, no.” She places her arm around the bench and leans closer. “You’ve been human.”

We pass out candy until the streets grow quiet, but I can’t shake the shame that sits in my stomach. Part of my twelve steps was to get Nonnie and Saylor and Peach out as soon as possible. I wanted the life I had before they came. I still don’t know what would happen if Margaret found out, but now that I know them, I’d willingly defend them as good people, just like my dad. What I’d created was a set of guidelines to get my life back to how it was, when what I really need is the courage to move forward.