Free The Bottle Ghosts by Dorien Grey Page B

get him a list of A.A. meetings for when they’re in town.”
    Max? A.A.? Now that was a surprise. I had no idea.
    “Yeah,” Jonathan said just a little too casually. “I told him I had one, and that I’d go with him if he wanted.”
    ??? “Excuse me?”
    He looked directly at me. “Why do you suppose I don’t drink?”
    Fer Chrissakes, Jonathan, you’re twenty years old! How could you be an alcoholic? my mind demanded. And how the hell couldn’t I have known?
    He smiled and took another drink of his Coke. No belch this time.
    “Don’t be so surprised. I started drinking when I was thirteen because it was fun and grown-up. My brother Samuel used to buy us beer and then we’d get drunk and have sex. By the time I was fifteen, I was drinking a lot more but it wasn’t fun anymore. So I quit. I went to A.A. meetings from the time I was fifteen until I moved out here. I haven’t been to one since I met you, but I know where they are, and if I ever feel like I need to go, I’ll go. So if Max wants to go to a meeting while they’re here, I’ll be glad to go with him.”
    I just sat there like someone had hit me on the head with a frying pan.
    He looked at me again, and his face grew very serious. “You’re…you’re not mad at me, are you? For not telling you?”
    I set my Manhattan on the coffee table, took his Coke from his hand and put it next to the Manhattan, and pulled him to me in a hug so tight I was afraid I might hurt him.
    “Of course I’m not mad at you!” I released the hug and took his face in my hands. “I’m proud of you!”
    I can’t remember when I’ve seen anyone look so relieved. He leaned forward quickly and kissed me. “Thank you!”
    When my hands released his face, he reached forward for our drinks and handed me my Manhattan.
    “I was really a little worried. I mean, it was bad enough that I was hustling when you met me, but I thought if you knew I was an alcoholic, too, that you could never…”
    “…never love you?” I finished. “Well, I do.”
    He pulled his head quickly backward as if startled and gave me the cocked-head look of a curious parakeet. “You do? Well, that’s funny: so do I…love you, I mean.”
    I put my hand on his leg. “I know. What’s for dinner?”
    *
    As I said, I don’t know how these things happen, or why, but as I was lying in bed waiting for Jonathan to finish brushing his teeth, things started to come together. I really didn’t want to get Jonathan involved in my work. I’d done that once before and it had almost gotten him killed. But there were just too many serendipitous coincidences lying around in this case not to take advantage of them. There was absolutely no indication that there might be any actual danger involved. And I’d be there to protect him.
    The best way to find out what was going on with Qualicare’s counseling group, I realized, was to join it. Each couple included one alcoholic and one non-alcoholic. I’d never been to an A.A. meeting in my life; I didn’t know if I could possibly fake being an alcoholic. But Jonathan knew his way around A.A..
    After dinner he showed me his 12 Step book, which he’d kept hidden for fear I might not accept him. Like many alcoholics, he knew it by heart.
    And most serendipitous of all, Jonathan was already a member of Qualicare!
    When he came to bed, I talked to him about it and about the case I was working on and about the four missing men. I stressed to him that I had no idea where it all might lead, and that while the possibility of its being dangerous was only remote, it was still there.
    He of course was excited by the very idea and agreed immediately, leaving me once again to wonder if he really realized what he could be letting himself in for. I suggested he think about it until he was sure, but he said there wasn’t any need to wait, and that he would call Qualicare during his lunch hour the next day to see about joining the group. Of course I’d have preferred to do it