Page 80 of Close to Falling

The night air is inviting, and the streets are lightly filled with people. The green leaves from the downtown trees sway in the wind, and I pull my hair to the side as we step out into the street and walk across to the Red Door Tavern. I hear music when River opens the door for me to go inside, and the smell of pub food and beer on tap takes me back to my younger twenties.

“Would you like a table?” the hostess asks.

“Yes, please,” I say.

“Follow me.”

We do, taking our seats in a small corner.

“This is nice,” I say, looking around.

River laughs. “No, it’s not, B.”

“It is, too. I mean, for a dive bar and all. It’s…cozy.” I try to find the right word for it.

“Cozy, huh?” He grins.

“Yeah. The dark wood and green everywhere. It’s a warm place.”

He gives me an unsure smile, but drops the conversation as the waitress comes over. “Would you two like a drink or something to eat?” she asks.

“One beer, a water, and some wings, please,” River says, looking at me to make sure I’m okay with it. I nod.

“I’ll be right back.” She turns and walks away.

We spend the evening making small talk and eating our wings. I notice someone walk up on the stage, and I grin when I see that it’s David. Time has aged him, but he looks good, and as he starts to play, I see the passion flow out of him. His voice is amazing, and the way he strums the guitar—it’s poetic. It’s art. It’s his propose.David has found his purpose again, I think to myself. I look over at River as he watches David play. Looks like I’ve found my purpose, too.

Walking out of the pub, I see David. “David,” I say, grabbing his attention.

“B?” He smiles.

“How are you doing?” I ask. “You did great up there.”

“I’m well. Thanks. How are you?”

I look back at River and smile. “I’m well, too, David.” He nods like he knows that’s not easy for an addict to say and mean it. “This is my husband, River,” I tell him.

“Nice to meet you,” David says, reaching out his hand. River takes it and tells him it’s nice meeting him, too. We talk a little more before I give him a hug goodbye, and River and I make our way out of the bar.

“How do you know that man?” River asks as we walk down the street, hand-in-hand. I cast my eyes over to him before I look back at the sidewalk, musing about long ago before I answer him.

“He’s an old storyteller,” I reply. River nods, seeming to like my answer before he kisses my hair. We then make our way back to our kids. Our home, our family, and I’ve never been happier. For once, that is the truth. I’ll always struggle with addiction, but I have people who love me, and that is why I will fight. I will always fight, and right now, I seem to be winning.

THE END