EPISODE 6: ANA'S FLOOR
642 Words
Thursday, 11:00 PM.
Ana’s Apartment, Cedar Falls, Iowa.
The lamp was the only light on. Warm. Soft.
Maya was asleep on the couch. Blanket up to her chin. Breathing slow. Finally.
Ana sat on the floor. Back against the kitchen cabinet. Alone.
Day seven. She thought she was okay.
She wasn’t.
Her hands started shaking. Then her chest.
"I can’t do this,"
she whispered.
"I can’t be strong for her too."
The apartment was quiet. The heater hummed.
Her phone was on the counter. 11:03 PM.
She shouldn’t call. It was late. She was the leader.
But Galatians 6:2 wasn’t just for Maya.
Ana picked up the phone. Dialed a number she hadn’t called in 6 months.
One ring.
Two rings.
"Hello?"
A man’s voice. Rough. Tired. 38 years old.
"Robert,"
Ana whispered.
"It’s me."
Silence. Then:
"Ana? You okay?"
Ana couldn’t answer. She just cried. Quiet.
"Ana, where are you?"
Robert said.
"Home,"
she managed.
"Maya’s here. She’s asleep. But I... I’m not okay."
"Don’t move,"
Robert said.
"I’m 10 minutes away."
***
Thursday, 11:20 PM.
Same apartment.
Soft knock.
Ana opened the door.
Robert stood there. 38. Taller than Ana remembered. Clean shaven. Grace Church hoodie. No wedding ring.
He looked sober. He looked tired.
"You came,"
Ana said.
"I always do,"
Robert said.
He stepped inside. Saw Maya on the couch.
"Is she okay?"
"She’s asleep,"
Ana said.
"It’s me. I’m not."
Robert nodded. He sat on the floor beside Ana. Back against the cabinet.
For 5 minutes, neither spoke.
Then Robert pulled two tea bags from his hoodie pocket. Chamomile.
"Still drinking this at midnight?"
he asked.
Ana laughed. Wet.
"Only when I’m falling apart."
Robert made tea. Brought both mugs to the floor.
"You remember what you told me 2 years ago?"
he asked.
Ana shook her head.
"You said ‘Robert, you don’t have to be sober to be loved. But you have to be honest.’"
Robert sipped his tea.
"So be honest now."
Ana wiped her face.
"I’m tired. Day seven. The board, Maya, the group... I don’t know if I can keep pretending I’m fine."
"You’re not pretending,"
Robert said.
"You called. That’s not pretending. That’s truth."
He paused.
"Court date is next month,"
he said quietly.
"For custody. Of my son."
Ana looked at him.
"I didn’t know."
"I didn’t tell anyone,"
Robert said.
"My wife and I... we’re separated. She says I’m unstable. Because I was. Because I drank. For 10 years."
Ana didn’t say anything. Just listened.
"I’ve been sober 2 years, Ana,"
Robert said.
"AA meetings. Counseling. Job at the hardware store. But she still thinks I’ll relapse. And maybe I will. If I’m alone."
He looked at Ana.
"That’s why I came tonight. Because you called. And needing people is how we stay sober. It’s how we stay alive."
Ana nodded.
"Galatians 6:2,"
she whispered.
"Yeah,"
Robert said.
"Bear one another’s burdens. Even leaders. Especially leaders."
***
Friday, 6:00 AM.
Ana’s Apartment, Cedar Falls, Iowa.
Ana woke up on the floor. Blanket over her.
Robert was gone. But there was a note on the counter:
Ana,
Maya’s still asleep. Coffee’s hot. Terrible, but hot.
Court is Dec 15. I’m scared.
Can I come Tuesday? To the group?
I need people who know how to stay.
-R
Ana held the note.
From the couch:
Maya stirred.
"Ana?"
"I'm here,"
Ana said.
"Who was that?"
Maya asked.
"Robert,"
Ana said.
He’s fighting for his son."
Maya sat up.
"Is he okay?"
"He will be,"
Ana said.
"If we stay."
Maya nodded.
"Then he should come Tuesday."
***
Friday, 10:00 AM.
Ana wrote in her journal:
I broke.
Robert sat with me.
He’s broken too.
Court next month. Son. Wife.
He needs the basement as much as we do.
Robert is coming Tuesday.
Day eight. Still here.
She underlined "stay" three times.
- Writer
