The Reluctant Angel by Maria McShane

Author:Maria McShane [McShane, Maria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: M. Ria Sullivan

7

The next day Maryah and Lars sat in the terminal watching planes taxi while they waited to board a flight to Richmond. A chill ran through her, and she pulled her coat tighter around her.

The wall-mounted televisions in the bar across the way played ball games and talk shows. Still just before noon, but people lined up at the bar with drinks of beer, wine, and her most forbidden item—whiskey on the rocks. How inviting it looked. It was a happy hour for these travelers from various places. Not for her.

It had been four days since her relapse and when Tommy had called to tell her about Danny. Still incomprehensible. What would it be like to be a “normie,” as her friends in recovery called folks who could have an occasional drink?

The bartender poured a glass of wine for two women at the mahogany bar. One of them held a cigarette. Oh yes, that beckoned to her too. The old ways, the old days, back before she’d met her Lars.

On occasion, she’d given in to temptation and had a cigarette at Connie’s. Smoking had been something she could take or leave. But not the booze. Lars had been her salvation. He never smoked and hated to be around it. He drank like a gentleman, never getting drunk. It did not affect him as it did her.

The old anxiousness and desire ran through her like a current. That’s what she wanted, to be at the bar, cigarette in one hand and wineglass in the other, transported from the pain.

Lars leaned against her and smoothed her hair. “What are you thinking?”

“Honestly?” she asked.

“Yes,” he responded.

“What I hate most about being sober is that you have to ‘feel the feelings,’ as they say,” she replied. “It sucks and makes me realize how I used alcohol to numb the pain so I wouldn’t have to deal with things.”

His eyes grew wide. “Wow,” he said.

“Yeah, it’s all kind of weird.” Maryah sighed.

“That’s why it will probably help for you to talk to the grief counselor when we get back,” he suggested. “You’re still crying over Mellie, and that’s been thirty years.”

Maryah’s heart began to pound, and her palms felt sweaty. What he didn’t know. “Between Mellie and Danny, I feel responsible,” she replied and yawned. Sleep had been elusive for the past few days. Hopefully, she could get a decent snooze in on the plane.

The ticket agent announced boarding for their flight. Lars held out a hand and helped her up to get in line. A nap would be most welcome.

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