All that surrounds me - Part 2 "A Search for Closure"
Disclaimer- If you shouldn't be reading this, don't.
A Question for Rob
"Can you please turn that shit off Angela?" Rob pleaded. It was a half hour after closing time, and I was still sitting in the back, listening to Matchbox 20. Rob was anxious to leave and close up the place. I apparently had spent quite some time soothing my ears.
"Yeah. Sorry," I said. Rob winked at me, letting me know it was okay. He was not so perverted towards me anymore. If anything, he was like some sort of a dad. It was strange.
"Oh, I meant to ask you. How is that job going with Sarah?" Rob asked. I turned, raising my eyebrows. Sarah had received a job at the Olive Garden over six months ago. After the first month they asked her to be a manager, but that was before getting fired three weeks ago for coming into work plastered.
"You know, the one I set her up with? She came to me and said that they were giving her a hard time with that management position. So, I hooked her up. With her record, it don't surprise me a bit though. Too bad, she is a damn good employee. I hate to see her struggling to find work."
I only stared at Rob with wide eyes. With her record? What was that supposed to mean? I was dying with anticipation to know what was going on.
"With her record? Are you talking about legal stuff?" I knew the question sounded stupid, but this was the first time anything had ever been brought up.
"Was she in jail or something?" I asked. I was extremely nosey and desperate to know. I knew if I did not find out then, I might never because I lacked the courage to ask.
"I guess," Rob replied. "You know how stuff goes though." He was wiping down tables, and rearranging chairs. While continuing to sweep I stared at him, relentless to find out what he meant.
"No, actually, I don't know. Maybe you could explain it to me," I said. He glanced over at me, cracking a smile. I was not finding the situation amusing.
"Angela, I am not the person to be asking. Look, I know you guys got something goin' on, but that's your business. That doesn't change the fact that I am an employer. Telling you something like that could get me in real hot water. Besides, that's something for Sarah to tell you."
It killed me to know how right Rob was, but I needed to know the truth. Even if I was not with Sarah at the time being, I needed closure. She knew about my past, now I needed to know about hers.
Rob looked at me with sympathy and smiled again. "Look, most of the idiots I hire here are from a good friend of mine. He is an attorney. His main thing is to try to steer these kids in the right direction, ya know? So, he cuts deals with me, and I agree to hire some of them. He is the one who introduced me to Sarah. Maybe if I give you his number, he can help you out."
Rob handed me a card with a phone number and address. I took it out of his hands, staring at the seven digits, thinking about Sarah. I prayed to god that she was trying to recover in some form.
She sat on the couch, shaking. Everything was cold, yet burning hot at the same time. Salty sweat dripped down her face as her body yearned. It had only been three days. Three days without alcohol. The day Angela left was the day she stopped. Sarah had to do something to get her back. Standing around, doing the same routine was not an option. She needed to find some sort of employment and pay the rent.
Sarah stared at the empty glass bottle in the sink. Her hands were shaking, her legs ached. Her stomach felt empty. The taste of the whiskey always felt cool and fulfilling traveling down her spine. If she only had one glass....
Sarah picked up a glass and threw it all the wall. It shattered, sending a sharp noise through the apartment. Sarah needed Angela. She needed her to soothe her through this difficult period. She needed support. Being on her own was more than she could handle. Especially when you quit smoking two years in advance.
Marcus
Fatigue was the only thing on my mind. The boring and dreary wait to speak to an attorney was not getting any better. I was drowsy and sometimes drifting off in my chair due to sheer boredom. After the third hour of inactivity I was becoming restless.
I flipped over the card. "Marcus Ryclacohil" was his name. What the hell kind of a name is that? I didn't even know how to interpret it, yet even begin to learn how to pronounce it. Usually lawyers had names like Jonathon or Michael. I found Marcus (whatever his last name was) to be quite unusual.
"Miss Bershire?" I looked up, seeing a woman from the counter calling me. I walked over to her, hoping that I was finally going to be seen. This was by far one of the most dull experiences of my life. There wasn't even anybody else in the waiting room.
"Mr. Ryclacohil is available to speak to you now. Just go through this door, make a right and it will take you to him." Mr. `Ry-acowa-what?' I gave her a thank you, and began to walk through the hall, still not knowing how to say the lawyers name. It was a long corridor with many different entrances to choose from. I walked to the end of the hallway and made a right, where I found a door slightly ajar. I knew somebody was in there because lights were on. Hoping I wasn't intruding, I walked in and came across a taller German man talking on the phone. Then I played the waiting game again as I stood in the doorway.
"Yeah, I know. The tape, yeah, yeah. I know he is in it. Look, I will call you back later. Yes, bye." Marcus slammed the phone down, and took off his glasses. He was rubbing his eyes as though he were tired. He must have had a long day. Too bad, I thought. It could not possibly be as long as my wait in the lobby.
"What can I do for you um....I don't know-." "Bershire," I interrupted.
"I just wanted to ask a few questions about somebody I know. It's kind of a weird issue..."
"Well, I don't know how much time I have for all that. If you need a lawyer you should come back tomorrow."
This outing was becoming slightly perturbing. I was not in any way prepared to let some `know it all' attorney treat me like an idiot.. He was talking to me like I was inferior to him and I was not in the mood for it. I had waited far too long to be handled in such a manner.
"Look, I don't need you to represent me, or anybody for that matter. If you even barely listened, I think you would know that already. I just need some information, and I will be on my way." I surprised myself sometimes. Being with Sarah really had given me courage. I was not afraid to be outspoken or rude when needed. I was rather pleased with myself.
"What kind of information?"
"I need an arrest record for Sarah Risardi. I know that you have represented her in the past." Marcus was staring at me with wide eyes.
"Hate to burst your bubble Miss Bershire, but I can't do that. What makes you think I can just hand out an arrest record to a complete stranger? You obviously need this for your own personal benefit, which is hardly the point anyways. I hate to break it to you, but giving you possession of that is breaking the client- attorney privilege."
"Look," I said. I was making an attempt to be nice to him. I really needed to know some things. I was willing to cross any boundaries to make it happen.
"Sarah is my girlfriend. I'm in this relationship and there are all these holes. Blank spaces in time that are a huge part of her life. I can't fill those holes unless I know how. I want to know what happened. She has become this alcoholic, and I don't know how to fix it. I don't even know if she will become violent with me or what she is doing. You are the only person who can help me.."
Marcus was listening to me, but I could tell my little speech was barely taken to heart. He did not seem very persuaded. He looked irritated that I was bothering him with such bickering.
"Look, I don't have time for your soap opera drama. It's late and I'm going home. Thank you." That was that. He began to close drawers, grab folders and his coat.
"Listen here, Mr. Whatever the fuck your name is. I just waited in that lobby for almost three and a half hours. One way or another I'm leaving here with a little more than `hate to burst your bubble ma'am.'"
Slightly chuckling, Marcus sat back down and looked at his desk. All he could do was glance up at me and smile.
"It's people like you that really make my day go `round, ya know that? Oh geez." Marcus just continued laughing, loosening up a bit. "It's Ryclacohil by the way. Rye- clah - cohey."
"Glad to know you find me so amusing. Can you please just help me?" I was begging and I knew it.
"Alright, listen up. I can't tell you why she was arrested. That is definitely enough to get me fired and living in a cardboard box. What I can tell you is; if she loves you, then she will never be violent with you. I know Sarah very well, and those she cares about, she never hurts. Don't worry about that."
I nodded at this while still wondering what to do. That helped, but still left me where I started. Nothing was answered.
"If you want some advice, look for newspaper clippings. July 1993. If you really want to know, then that should help you." Gratefully, I smiled at him. I grabbed my purse of the desk and ran out to my car.
"I Promise"
-September 2001
"Sarah, you need to leave. It is three thirty in the morning. You're waking people up." She was staggering in front of my door. A bottle of whiskey was tightly grasped in her hands. I could smell the liquor on her breath.
"I miss you Angie. You don't understand what it's like for me. You promised you wouldn't give up one me, but you did." Sarah began leaning against the wall to keep balance. I noticed my neighbor was peeking her head out of the door, wondering what was going on.
I realized that I could not allow her to walk around in the state she was in. I was obliged to have her come in and get some rest. She was bound to get a ticket or cause an accident, and the situation itself was even more sad. I had not even been gone for two weeks and she had already found my new apartment. She found me in the same condition she was in before; helpless and drunk, if not more so.
It was hard to cope with. I knew if I let her back in I was allowing the drinking to continue. On the same idea, I knew if I let her walk around half in the bag, she could hurt somebody else or herself. It was a no win situation.
I made a cup of coffee and put it in a mug that fit perfectly in my jacket. I figured it was a start. After that, I grabbed my keys and her by the arm. I was going to take her home and allow her to sleep off the booze. I reckoned that would be the best solution.
Sarah was having difficulties walking down the steps, so I had to assist her in keeping balance. She began to take another swig of the bottle. I ripped it out of her hands and tossed it in a garbage can near the exit.
"Hey," Sarah complained. I rolled my eyes and helped her get in the Taurus. She ripped her arm from my grasp, angered that I was babying her. It was not sinking in her brain that she could not do it herself without falling on her ass. While she sat in the car pissing and moaning, I attempted to hand her the mug of coffee. Ten seconds later it was whipped on the cement in the parking lot.
After picking up the mug, I opened my door and made an effort to start the engine. Sarah ripped my keys out of my hands and threw them in the backseat. She forced herself on top of me and began to kiss me.
"Get off!" I screamed at her. She pinned my arms against the seat, rubbing herself against me. I was in disgust. The only thing I could smell was alcohol. I was definitely not turned on by this unhappy event.
"You used to like it. Why such a change in heart? Huh? You got some man now?" Fury was burning in my eyes. I lifted my hand and smacked Sarah across the face. Her head threw back from the blow and she could see my anger. While rubbing her face in the hit area, she went back to her own seat. She faced the window and refused to look at me.
"You know that is bullshit Sarah. You know that I don't love anybody but you. The problem is you make it so hard to love you when you're plastered like this. I don't even know why I bother bitching, because you probably wont remember it anyways."
She just stared out of the window, so I rambled on. "Sarah, you don't even talk like you usually do. You're so smart, but when you drink you're this pathetic idiot.. It truly is a shame when somebody as incredible as you can't seem to give up what's ruining their life.."
Sarah continued to look out the window. She never cried. Even in the most intense situations like this. I prayed to God that she would remember this moment. Just so when she picked up the bottle, my words would echo in her mind.
"You're right," Sarah said softly, nodding her head I could tell that there was real sincerity in her actions. "I need you though. I can't do this alone. I don't want to do it alone." She turned around, looking me in the face.
"We tried that for months Sarah. I think the only way for you to get better is for us to be apart for a little while." I held her hand, caressing her fingers. I smiled with teary eyes, letting her know that I was not angry with her. Just concerned with her well being.
"I wasn't trying before, but I really am this time. If you just come back home and help me. You don't understand how hard it is. I went for almost a week, and then I just gave in. I really think if you were there...."
I moved my hand away from hers. It was becoming rather cold in the car. The windows were fogging. I reached in the back seat and grabbed the car keys that had been abruptly thrown. Sarah reached for the mug sitting in the cup holder and began drinking. I felt the reality of the circumstance was helping her sober up.
"This may not be the best question right now, but I need to ask." Sarah said as she looked over to me. She was no longer slurring her words. Her actions were more focused and controlled. I was pleased to see the real Sarah Risardi sitting before me.
She exhaled deeply and began to speak. "I um...just wanted to know if you miss me, because, I miss you." She was staring down at the coffee mug. I lifted her chin so she looked me directly in the face.
"Of course. Don't you know how much I love you?" The electricity of her blue eyes sent warm shivers down my spine again. If she only knew how much I missed her.
"Just let me stay tonight," Sarah begged. "Just let me stay this one night. I promise, I will do everything to get better. I just want to be with you. Promise me you wont leave me," she said strongly. I nodded my head yes, staring at her face.
"Say it. Please, just say it." Her eyes were making direct contact with mine. "I promise," I said softly. She touched my face, gently stroking my skin.
"It's more than not being with you that kills me. It's wondering of whether or not you're with somebody else. I can't handle somebody else touching you. Just because I know their touch will never mean as much as mine. You have to understand that nobody will ever love you like I do." Sarah said. I had never seen her so heart felt. It was hard to believe that only a little while ago she was drunk. The smack across the face must have done her a world of good.
"Come on," I said. I began to get out of the car and shut the door behind me. Sarah did as well, no longer swaying like a drunken idiot. I was pleased with her returning sobriety.
We walked up to my apartment hand in hand. When we got in I fixed Sarah something to eat. She said she had not eaten in almost a week. I believed it.
"You need to shower desperately," I said. That was obviously another factor she had neglected. Her hair was greasy and she wreaked like alcohol and body odor. Her breath was more than horrendous.
I grabbed Sarah by the hand and took her into the bathroom. I lifted her shirt and threw it on the floor. Her skin still had the same creamy texture. Sarah unzipped her baggy pants and removed them. I pulled down her bikini underwear and watched as they dropped to the ground. Before I knew it, she was standing before me, completely nude and vulnerable.
I filled the bathtub with warm water and assisted Sarah in. I then removed all my garments so I could get in next to her. My back was leaned against the wall with her head resting on my chest. I massaged her shoulders, helping her relax.
I used a bath sponge on her back and kneaded her tense areas. I squeezed the sponge, allowing the warm water to drip down her body. My hands rubbed her gracious skin, making up for lost time. I washed all of our bad fights and misconceptions away.
The shampoo went between my fingers as I ran them through Sarah's hair. I massaged her scalp and then her neck. It was then she gave herself to me completely. I heard soft moans as I bathed Sarah and loved her like never before. She only closed her eyes and felt my hands caress and touch her. Her anxiety was slowly slipping away.
After an hour in the tub we got out. I used a towel to wipe every inch of her drenched body. Sarah grasped the towel out of my hands and allowed it to drop to the floor. She was standing in front of me, staring at me with those loving eyes.
"I don't think I could ever want anything more than you," Sarah said. She smiled at me, holding my hand. Before I could protest, her lips were touching mine. They were so warm and tender. I missed the taste of her. I had forgotten what it felt like to be kissed by Sarah when it didn't taste like Budweiser. It was by far one of the most incredible feelings on Earth.
Her mouth was so welcoming. I could not help but to erotically brush my lips against hers in return.. My tongue was massaging hers more passionately than I could ever remember. I was embracing her tightly. My breasts were rubbing against hers roughly. I felt a wave of strong desire as our nipples collided.
All the wonderful feelings were rushing in again. The steamy glances and devoted touches were filling our senses. It was like somebody hit the rewind button in our life. We were back to the beginning of our relationship almost four years ago. Everything was perfection.
Then I began to recollect. The times when Sarah would come home late, falling over. The night I stayed up on her 22nd birthday, waiting for her to come home. The night she put her fist through the bathroom mirror, or the day she ran the back of her truck into a wall. It was so hard to forget.
Sarah was wrapped up in sexual bliss. Her lips were sucking on my nipples, making me shake with ecstasy. I had to remove her face from my breasts. As much as I wanted her at the moment, I could not allow it to happen. I too much wanted her to stay sober.
"I can't tonight," I said. Sarah only stared at me in disbelief. She could not understand why I was pushing her away.
"I need assurance that you will stay this way. I love you more than anything. You getting better means so much to me, but I don't want to give in and let you think that I will have sex with you whenever you're sober. It's not going to happen. You only have two choices; either give up drinking completely or give up me."
Sarah nodded her head, understanding the rules and regulations. She picked the towel back up off the floor. I walked into my room and changed into pajamas. By that time, she was already dressed and set up to sleep on the couch.
I went over to the couch and grabbed her hand. I led her into my bed and placed her hands around my waist. I wanted her to sleep next to me. I needed to feel her hands comforting me. Words could not describe how badly I wanted her, but I made the sacrifice. This way Sarah knew that I was being sincere.
I felt her nose in the crook of my neck. She gave me a soft kiss there and adjusted her head. The warmth of her body was satisfying in every way. I wanted to sleep like that for the rest of my life.
What You Want to Know May Haunt You
My eyes were hurting from looking at the small print for so long. Spread out before me was a newspaper clipping of July 1993 and a cup of coffee. I had 45 minutes before the library closed. With as tired as I was, one would think that I'd call it a day by now, but that just gave me all the more determination.
All the clippings from July were about the same man, Joseph Berenna. He was accused of killing his wife Jocelyn. Apparently he brutally murdered her with a butcher knife from the kitchen. He had been in the hospital unconscious for weeks. I really did not care though. I was becoming frustrated because there was nothing in the newspaper about Sarah. It was not until I hit August that something changed.
"Joseph Berenna, thirty - eight year old male, charged with killing his wife Jocelyn Berenna, maiden name Risardi, died today at a nearby local hospital. Jocelyn's 17 year old daughter, Sarah Risardi, has been charged with his murder. Sarah gave a testimony that she witnessed Berrena kill her mother. She claims that she attacked Berenna in self defense. Police have found another eye witness who says otherwise, and claim her statement to be false. More information can be given at a later time."
I stared at the paper. I kept saying over and over in my mind, "No. This can't be right. Not Sarah. No..." Or was I wrong?