Part 37

Charlotte spent the next two days, typing, sending the disk home with Sam to have its contents email out and, editing via cell phone, in which every conversation she fielded the question, "Why aren't we doing this through email? Your doc comes across fine." Her answer, "I can send messages fine, but it's the coming back that is fowled up. Must be the SMTP server." John never said anything after she geek-spoke. They had never met, but she assumed he was a reporter of old, preferring the typewriter to the computer.

At dinner time the whole family was coming in. Actually the visits started after school and lasted until right after bed. Angie, with Jenny in tow, would go to the schools and pick up Sarah then Laverne, then drive on over. The girls would work on homework first, then play smuggled in board games on the empty bed next to Charlotte's. Charlie with Sam, who was back and forth for pony express emailing purposes, would arrive together after the 1 PM AA meeting, packing pizza, or real take out from a real restaurant to feed the troops. Life was going along like clockwork, but still Charlotte couldn't imagine another 27 weeks of this.

As the 4 PM news came on, the smell of Chinese food wafted into the room. Without looking up from her homework Sarah said, "Hi Dad. Hi Charlie."

The men put the bags of food down and then walked over and kissed the girls from Angie to Lovie, right down the line.

"How's it going?" asked Charlotte, knowing she really shouldn't ask about the meetings, but hoping she'd get an answer.

"It's going okay," answered Charlie, who then looked towards Sam. "As you know it's a slow road."

She did know. But she also knew, bottom line, she needed the stability of her husband staying away from the bottle. Sam curled up next to his wife on her bed, and whispered in her ear, "A day at a time, sometimes moment to moment, but we'll get there." She turned and kissed him. Each time he had a relapse, which wasn't often, this being the third time in the 14 years since he stood up and introduced himself at a meeting, she recognized the fact that it was harder and harder to stop drinking. She loved him for his efforts.

"Can we eat?" It was Lovie, "I'm starving."

"Truly starving?" asked Charlotte, taking her attention off the wispy hairs on Sam's neck.

"I could eat Brussel sprouts starving."

"That's starving, you hate Brussel sprouts. Sure let's eat."

Everyone worked together to set a table on Charlotte's bed and side table. Paper plates laid out, the food cartons were placed on the side table and then passed around. The room grew quiet after they said grace and dug in.

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