“Is for midgets?” she said, in an accent Sam thought was Russian.
“No,” said Sam, “they’re for us. But you can sit on the floor, or there’s a beanbag you can drag over.”
The Russian’s brow furrowed further over the wordbeanbag. “I take floor,” she said, and folded herself gracefully down.
“Welcome, and let’s get started,” said KK. She passed the basket, and when it returned to her, she took the stopwatch out of it, the old-fashioned silver kind with a fob on top, and led them in the serenity prayer.God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
“I am told this is not religious group,” the Russian whispered. “I do not believe.”
“You don’t have to,” said Sam, and KK, overhearing, added, “Your Higher Power can be God, or Goddess, or Nature, or Source, or nothing—whatever you hold it to be.”
The Russian didn’t appear persuaded. Sam smiled at her. She remembered how it had felt to attend her first meeting, in the Berkshires; how the moment she’d opened her mouth to introduce herself, she’d started to sob from the sheer relief of being in a room full of people who all knew what she was going through, of not having to pretend everything was okay when it wasn’t. How she’d known she was in the right place when a dozen hands reached toward her with tissues. There was no better place to have a meltdown than in a meeting of recovering codependents.
KK smiled around the circle. “I’ll start. I’m KK, and I’m a codependent.”
“Hi, KK,” they all said obediently, except the Russian, who leaned toward Sam and said, “What is codependent?”
“It’s someone who’s focused more on other people and their problems than her own life.”
“But hotline lady tells me this is meeting for women with drunk husbands.”
“Yes and no,” said Sam. “Many of us start coming because we live with addicts, but we stay to focus on ourselves.”
The Russian sat back, mystified. Sam felt for her. She remembered, too, how skewed the equation had seemed when she’d gone to that first meeting, wanting to know what to do about Hank going completely off the rails, only to be told,Nothing. You can’t do anything about him. What about you? What are you going to do about your own life? What do you want?Sam snapped,What do you mean? How can I do anyfuckingthing about thatwhile I’m living with this man? I don’t care about my own life!Then she’d put her hand over her mouth when she realized what she’d said.
“I’m really worried about my stepdaughter,” KK was saying. “She was doing so well until she moved back in with her boyfriend, and now we’re afraid she’s using again. I’d love to go over there and beat the stuffing out of that little S.O.B., let me tell you. Anyway—”
“Why do you not do this,” the Russian interrupted.
“No cross-talk,” Linda said tiredly.
“She means no commenting on what other people are saying,” Sam translated.
“But why not get daughter from boyfriend’s house, have husband beat him up, teach him little lesson,” suggested the Russian. “Then no more problem.”
KK smiled beatifically. “It wouldn’t change anything. She’d just go back for more.”
“It would be enabling,” Drishti added.
“What is that?” asked the Russian.
“It means doing for somebody else what she should do for herself,” KK said. “We can’t control persons, places, or things. Today I’m grateful for what Icancontrol, for you girls, and for my rooftop herb garden. Thank you.”
She handed the watch to Linda.
“I’m Linda,” said Linda, “and today I’m batshit because my Sully’s arraignment is tomorrow, and this judge is known to be extra harsh on dealing, and Sully’s not a juvie anymore so he’s probably gonna go up the river and I’m going out of my frigging mind. Thanks.”
She handed the watch to Drishti.
“I’m Drishti,” said Drishti, “yeah, that’s my real name, it means the fixed spot you look at to keep yourself balanced during yoga. I’m a Sicilian from Charlestown, but in case you couldn’t tell, my ma was a hippie. I’m good today, just maintaining, so I’ll pass.” She handed the stopwatch to Sam.
“I’m Sam,” said Sam, “and I’m here today because I met a man...”
Despite the no cross-talk rule, KK winked, Linda genuflected, and Drishti smirked.
“Great job not talking, guys,” said Sam. “Chef’s kiss. Anyway, I met this amazing man—”
Drishti pretended to cough. “Dickmatized,” she said into her cupped hands.
