“You should see me with kids,” she might say after a meeting where we could see people drifting away as she spoke. “I’m good with kids.”

“We should find a meeting with kids in recovery,” I told her. “I’d go.”

Casey was standing talking with a small group of people after a meeting when the leader of that night’s meeting came up to me. I was exhausted, still working at the warehouse and just after I’d finished the job for Froehmer. I probably looked like shit, that’s what set the guy off, I’m sure, but he caught me off guard.

“I hope you keep coming. But I don’t know how much good we can do for you right now. We can’t get you sober, but we can help you stay that way,” he said. He was confused.

“You might have me mistaken for someone else,” I said.

“I know who I’m looking at,” he said. “I hope I see you again.”

“You don’t know who you’re looking at,” I said. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you,” the guy said. “That’s all I’m saying. I hope we see you again.”

I stopped going with Casey. I tried to avoid her on the nights she was going to go. She never said anything. She was good that way, and it made me feel worse.

“I have to find my own group,” I finally told her. “I heard that from someone.”

“Frank?”

“No, you,” I told her.

30

THE SECOND

I WAS STILL WORKING AT THE WAREHOUSE, STILL DRIVING AROUND IN MY ORANGE VEST PICKING UP GARBAGE AND CLEANING UP MESSES. Froehmer would keep me there now, keep everything the same, even though I wanted to go back to what I’d been doing before. I began to wonder if I’d ever leave the warehouse. At least my paycheck meant something now. But not much. I could pay the bills and still scrape together a little something for child support, but that was about it. I didn’t need much, but I needed more than this. My nose was above water, but not by much. I was working harder than ever, and making less. I could feel the vise of the working life, and I didn’t like it. Then Froehmer called.

He wanted to meet at the diner. I got there a good half hour before we were supposed to meet and sat with my face toward the door, so I could see him come in. I didn’t know what he wanted to talk about and sat wondering why he wanted a face-to-face. All my thoughts led to something not good. I shouldn’t have thought about it.

Froehmer sat down across from me and nodded, pleased that I had been early. “How are you holding up?” he asked. “Good.”