It was time for Arlo to go back to work and he couldn't say he was happy about it. Since he was now spending most of his day at the hospital, and not at home, Mama returned to her own house. He couldn't say he was glad to see her go. Mama had made him feel warm and loved, in a different way than Jake did. Jake loved him like a boyfriend. Mama loved him like family. It was something Arlo hadn't felt in a long time. The staff welcomed him back with open arms, and no one asked any questions. Arlo felt like his life was finally being pulled back together, there was only one thing left that he felt guilty about.
He had been so proud of his AA chips. He had never really liked the AA meetings, and had only gone to a few. The meetings, the sponsors, the threat of losing his job and his education, none of it really broke through. What really got through to him, were the chips. They were something hard and physical. Something he could hold on to. But now that he had relapsed, he felt like he didn't deserve them.
"What are you doin'?" Jake asked, as he walked into the house. Arlo sat on the couch, looking at his box of chips. The many colors were still clean and bright, like the day he had gotten them.
"Nothing, just moping," Arlo mumbled.
"Over what?" Jake sat down on the couch with him, still in uniform. He leaned over and looked inside the old wooden box that Arlo had kept his chips in. "Poker chips?" Jake picked on up and bit it, frowning at the piece of plastic.
"Hey!" Arlo scowled and took the chip back. "They're my sobriety chips," he sighed.
"Ah, I see. That's a lot of chips," he said.
"You get one on your first day, your three week, and then three, six, and nine months," Arlo explained, "Your one year is the big one, and then after that it's every year," Arlo said. Jake did a quick count of the chips.
"You were doing good," he said.
"Yeah," Arlo murmured. The truth was he hated being sober. Almost any alcoholic did. At least for a little while. He was miserable. He had to face reality and think about his problems, not just drink them away. He knew he would get over it. Jake had been sure to keep all alcohol from his reach and Arlo quickly fell back into his normal, non-alcoholic routine.
"It wasn't a bad relapse you know," Jake said.
"Like there's a good kind?" Arlo frowned.
"Well, no. I just mean, you knew you were being stupid and it just took a kick to the head to get you to snap out of it," Jake said. "You shouldn't beat yourself up over it. You've been doing good," Jake said.
"I just feel like I don't deserve them. I messed up," Arlo said.
"Everyone messes up, Doc. I'm not going to lie and say that it wasn't your fault, because it was-"
"Gee, thanks," Arlo rolled his eyes and shut the box.
"BUT," Jake continued, "I will say that you've made an honest effort to not slip up again. I know you think about it. But all you've done is think about it," Jake repeated. When Arlo was still silent he added, "would it make you feel better to go to another AA meeting?," Jake said.
"No. They never really made me want to get sober anyways. All those religious Nazis do is make me want to drink more," Arlo laughed.
"You know, they have non-religion based AA groups," Jake chuckled.
"They always get in. They're everywhere!" Arlo said, in an ominous voice. Jake rolled his eyes. When Arlo went back to being quiet and thoughtful, Jake stood up. "Where are you going?" Arlo asked.
"Just hold on," Jake said over his shoulder. He dug around in a drawer for a minute, before pulling something out and keeping it hidden from Arlo. Arlo tried to peek, but Jake made sure to keep it close against his chest, covered by his hand. He rummaged through a few more drawers before sighing, obviously not finding what he needed.
"What--?" Arlo asked.
"I said hold your horses, cowboy," Jake said, his southern accent really coming out. Arlo smiled and watched as he headed towards the fridge. He pulled something out from the door, and then reached for a tooth pick. He worked over the counter for a minute, before blowing on whatever he had been working on for a minute or two. When he came back, Arlo raised his eyebrow at a poker chip covered in mustard.
"What the hell is this?" he asked, taking it from Jake.
"It's your relapse chip," Jake explained. Arlo noticed that he had copied the symbol that was engraved on his sobriety chips in gold. Of course this chip had it done in mustard. "I'll take these," Jake grabbed the box from Arlo's lap. Arlo pouted and reached for them, but Jake pulled them away. "You can have them back as you reach the milestones. Okay? And when you have them all back, you can throw away the relapse chip," Jake said. Arlo looked down at the mustard covered poker chip.
"Okay," Arlo nodded. Jake dug through the box for a minute, and pulled out a white chip.
"I saw on a movie once that white was the first day chip?" he asked. Arlo nodded and took the chip. He held the two pieces of plastic next to each other, one a pearly white with gold engraved into it, and the other a sickly green with dried mustard scribbled into a clumsy symbol. Somehow, the relapse chip meant more to him than the others.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Arlo sighed as he got off work. It had been a long day. He had spent most of it treating a child who had fallen into a bed of cacti. The poor boy was covered from head to toe in spines from the plants, and it took several nurses and himself to remove them all. His feet hurt, and he couldn't help but admit that the only thing he wanted right now was to sit in a nice dark bar with a drink in his hand. He dug the chip out of his pocket quickly, and glanced at the mustard covered item. He smiled and shoved it back into his pocket. Jake was getting off work around the same time as Arlo, and they had decided that they would treat themselves and go out to dinner together.
Jake had let Arlo pick the place, and he chose his favorite Italian restaurant. It was a bit expensive, but they agreed to split the cost so it wouldn't hurt them too bad. Soft music played in the background, and the place was nearly empty. They ordered and their food was brought out to them quickly. Conversation was slow, but finally Arlo brought up the subject that he had been thinking about for awhile now.
"Jake, you've been so nice to me. There's... there aren't words to say how thankful I am for everything you've done. You've given me a place to stay, and helped me stay sober, and your mom just welcomed me into the family like it was nothing." Arlo took a deep breath. "And I appreciate it, all of it. It means more to me than you could ever guess," Arlo said. "But I think it's time I moved out and found my own place again. Donovan can keep the house, I don't want it anymore." Arlo shook his head. "But I'm sure you want your own place back. It's not exactly big enough for all of us," Arlo said, counting the dogs Jake lived with. When he finally stopped rambling, Jake only stared at him.
"Doc..." Jake's skin took on a bright red blush. "Do you really think that I want you to move out?"
"You mean you don't?" Arlo asked, stopping his fork just a few inches from his mouth.
"No, I want you to stay with me," Jake said. "I know I said I didn't think you were ready to be in a relationship, but I also said that that didn't mean I didn't want one with you." Jake reached a hand across the table and placed it on Arlo's. "I love having you in my house. Before, that's all it was. A house. With you there, it feels like so much more. It's a home with you there, Arlo. I understand if you want to leave, I just want you to know that I want you there because..." Jake's skin turned an ever brighter red. "I love you, Arlo," he admitted. Arlo nearly swooned at his thick country drawal. He smiled, and opened his mouth, but no words came out. "You don't have to say it back, not yet. You still have a long ways to go before I think you're better," he said. "But you're well on your way, Doc." Arlo giggled. "What?" Jake frowned.
"You said my name," Arlo smiled.
"Whad're ya talkin' about, Doc?" Jake asked.
"You called me Arlo. You never call me Arlo," he smiled. Without warning, he leaned over the table and kissed Jake passionately. When Arlo pulled away, Jake whistled.
"If that's what I get everytime I call you Arlo, you can expect it more often," Jake winked.
"Sounds good to me." Arlo smiled.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
