Miss Jackson {b.u.}

{87}

April 09 2018:
I walked into the Queens Intergroup. The same inter group that hold these AA meetings. I had a feeling that Brendon hadn't been going. I swung my purse over my shoulder as I strolled the twins in their stroller. I peaked inside, looking in to see if I would be interrupting a meeting. But, I wasn't. The groups leader, Dylan, stood in the meeting room going through papers and reading through them. I opened the door, struggling to walk in. I inches closer and Dylan picked his head up from the paper, "Oh, sorry, we dont have a meeting until-"

"Five, i know," I began, "I have a question."

Dylan set the papers down, turned to face me and crossed his arms, "go on."

"I know this anonymous, but is there any way you could tell me," I began and pulled a picture of Brendon up and turned my phone to show, "has this guy been to any of your meetings?"

Dylan squinted his eyes, "Ma'am, i'm not allowed to tell you-"

I set my phone down on the table beside me. I walked up to him and grabbed the collar of his shirt, "i'm not playing any games. I need to know if that man has come here in the past two months."

"Whatre you going to do?"

I let go of his shirt, scoffed and turned around walking back to the stroller. I picked my phone up, slipping it into my sweatshirt pocket and clearing my throat. I cracked my neck. My intrusive and impulsive thoughts had begun to swirl. I turned around, cocked my clenched fist back and swung a punch in his face. Dylan stumbled back a bit and I could feel the rush of adrenaline. I shook my hand out, took the phone back out of my pocket and showed it again, "so, tell me again. Has this man—been to any of your meetings?"

Dylan held his bloodied nose and shook his head, "no, he hasnt ever come."

I nodded my head and put my phone back in my pocket. I turned back around, walked to the stroller, turned it around and began walking out. I didn't care for the way that I found out. I would've punched anyone to find this out. I thought my hand would hurt from punching him, but, it sort of felt good and normal.

The small drizzle made the air humid and eerie. It was a bit fogged up, but I didn't mind. My birthday was tomorrow, but it'll probably be ruined because I have to bring up Brendon not going to AA meetings. How could he have lied to me like that?

I swung the front door open. This is the one time that I was happy that the kids weren't home because I was going to flip my shit. I threw my things onto the bench. I swung my coat off and threw it on the ground. I stormed upstairs with the twins in my arms, walking into their open-doored room and setting them in their cribs. I walked out and walked down the hallway, seining open the bedroom door, seeing that Brendon wasn't in there. I rushed back downstairs and into the living room, no sign of him. I opened the basement door and walked down the steps. Brendon, of course was live streaming. When I opened the door, he turned around and excused himself. Ending the live stream and getting up from his chair, "you okay? There was a lot of banging upstairs."

I crossed my arms, "how've your meetings been going?"

Brendon furrowed his eyebrows and jerked his head back, "my meetings? My meetings are fine, they're good."

I nodded my head, "mhm...and what exactly do you talk about in these meetings?"

Brendon set his hands on his hips and looked down, "we talk about what all people talk about in alcoholics anonymous, Joanne."

I slammed the door behind me and crossed my arms again, "uh-huh. Yeah, but I asked what exactly you talk about. Not a sahara desert answer."

"You know..." Brendon trailed off and looked around the room, "alcohol..and...drunk driving."