Creep - Jennifer Hillier [44]
These stories might have been interesting, funny even, if Sheila didn’t have to count herself as part of this group of addicts struggling day in and day out for control.
Her butt sore from sitting on the hard metal folding chair, she welcomed the opportunity to stand up and stretch. She followed the herd to the back of the room where the coffee and doughnuts were and watched as people began to pair off or stand in small groups. She murmured a few hellos, but she had no desire to bond with anyone here. If anybody asked, she always said her name was Stella.
She waited patiently for her turn at the free coffee dispenser, which produced mild but not horrible-tasting coffee. A corduroy-clad arm reached out from behind her to drop a $50 bill into the large donation jar. She turned, curious to see who’d donate such a high amount, and a man about her age with smooth caramel skin and tinted glasses met her glance. A newbie. His eyes stayed on her face for only a second before darting away, which happened a lot in SAA. Nobody wanted to be recognized here.
“Fifty bucks.” Sheila couldn’t resist commenting as she reached the coffee dispenser. “Generous. I think the average contribution tends to run about five dollars. You must be planning to stick around.”
“Depends on what happens in the second half of the meeting.”
The man had an accent she couldn’t quite place. “Enjoyed the sharing, did you?”
He shrugged but his expression was serious. “It was interesting. I can’t get past the size of this group. Back in Ohio we had only seven people. There’s got to be forty here tonight.”
He didn’t sound as if he was from Ohio.
“I wonder what that says about the Pacific Northwest,” Sheila said.
He finally laughed, pushing his glasses farther up on the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t bad looking. “Right.”
“Affirmations and visualizations are next. Have fun.”
She glanced at him one last time before she walked away. Something about him seemed vaguely familiar, but that often happened. She taught hundreds of students every year, of all ages, races, and backgrounds. She hoped he hadn’t been one of them.
At Tony’s Tavern an hour later, Sheila ate her mushroom-and-Swiss burger. Greasy food had become a ritual for her after her weekly SAA meetings. Something about all the sex-addict talk made her crave comfort food, and Tony’s burgers fit the bill. The tavern was only a five-minute drive from the church, and the dim lighting and classic rock booming over the loudspeakers made it the perfect place to pig out unnoticed.
Taking a big bite of her burger, she observed two women sitting at the bar. One sported a miniskirt and high heels; the other wore a top so low her red lace bra was showing. They were attracting a lot of attention from the workingmen who frequented Tony’s, all of whom they shot down with sarcastic barbs.
Sheila understood what they were doing all too well. Whatever their stories might be, these women were here for validation. They weren’t necessarily looking to get laid, though someday that might change.
A tall, well-dressed man took a seat beside them at the bar. Sheila recognized him immediately from the SAA meeting—Fifty Bucks Guy. The two women stopped talking long enough to check him out while he ordered a drink. The blonde with the low-cut top puffed out her chest and gave him an obvious once-over, but he didn’t even glance her way.
Sheila took another bite of her burger and three slices of greasy mushroom fell into her lap. Swearing under her breath, she picked them out of her napkin, popping them quickly into her mouth. She looked up to see Fifty Bucks Guy watching her from the bar with a sardonic grin. He gave her a small wave.
Reflexively, she lifted a hand in response. Instantly she regretted it. She watched in dismay as he hopped off his barstool to make his way over to her. Miniskirt and Tight Top watched with disappointment.
Despite herself, Sheila couldn’t help