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“Are you drinking again? This early?” Mom frowned at me.
I could see it written across her face. I knew what she was thinking. Drinking in the middle of the day, just like his dad.
As hard as I had tried not to be, I was like him.
In San Francisco, I could pretend that I wasn’t.
I was a successful businessman that gave back to humanity rather than to take, take, take, but as soon as things got tough, I reached for the bottle. Just like my dad did.
I was a chip off the old block, as the bastard would have said, and I had to fight that urge to fall down into the same despair he’d wallowed in.
I didn’t respond to her, because what could I say? She saw the beer can in my hand, clearly, she knew the answer to her own question.
She sighed. “Don’t you have work to do? I can’t imagine a CEO like yourself drinking like this.”
I had told Rachel to clear my calendar, but I did need to be prepared for things to come. When you run a business as big as mine, you can't spend nights off drinking and forgetting about your responsibilities. Especially when one night could quickly turn into two or three or four…
“You’re right,” I said. “I’ll stop after this one. It’s just hard being back in town, I’m not usually like this.”
My mother’s face softened, and she walked over to the bed and sat down beside me. “Thank you for taking care of your dad’s funeral plans today.”
“I did it for you. Not him.”
“Well, I appreciate it, Alex. I just don’t want to see you turning into your father.
“I’m not. Just the one, then I have things to do.”
I knew that part of me was delaying doing what needed to be done.
I needed to call Grace back.
She deserved an explanation for what happened all those years ago.
Just one drink to calm my nerves, I had told myself. The stress of the call on top of everything that had happened that day… I needed it.
At least, unlike my dad, I was functional, I told myself. And it was only while I was in Denver. Once I got home, I wouldn’t be under so much stress.
“Alright, one can’t hurt, I guess…” Mom said.
“Exactly.” Just one beer, then I would call Grace.
Chapter 8
Grace
“Hey there, are you okay with visitors?” Duncan’s voice spoke softly from the hallway.
“Oh hey, yes, of course, come on in,” I said, standing up and walking over to him. I hugged my friend and for a moment thought I might fall asleep.
“You look exhausted.”
“I am exhausted.”
“Have you been sleeping?”
I pointed to the chair beside Ollie’s bed. “When I can, but that’s my bed.”
