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“Yes, please.” I top him off before taking the seat next to him, watching as he digs into the pancakes. “You look tired, son.”
“Gee, thanks, Dad.”
Dad shakes his head. “I wasn’t trying to be mean…I swear. You just look wore out.”
I don’t know what to say because the last thing he needs is to worry about me when he’s still grieving the loss of his wife. I need to be strong in case he’s not. “I promise I’m good. I had a few drinks and stayed up too late and got up too early. That’s all, I promise. “
While Dad cleans up the kitchen after he finishes eating, I head outside and mow the grass. It takes me a long time to get the whole yard done, but it looks a lot better when I’m finished.
I put the mower away and make my way back inside. My dad hands me a bottle of water and I hope he can’t tell that my hands are trembling slightly. Fuck, I haven’t ever been blackout drunk. I fucked someone, a someone I shouldn’t have, and I don’t fucking remember any of it.
The last thing I do remember is doing that last rail and leaning back on my sofa.
“Son? Are you okay?” I shake myself out of my thoughts to find my dad staring at me, concern written all over his face.
“I’m okay—just hot and tired. Do you want to order some takeout?”
He smiles. “That sounds good. You know what I like.”
We end up ordering Thai from a little restaurant downtown and I spend the night with Dad, watching movies, and smoking cigars. What I don’t do is think about Haddie and trying to remember what happened between us. It freaks me out, having that blank spot in my mind.
Haddie
I step inside my apartment, drop my purse on the floor, and after locking my door, I collapse onto my sofa. “You’re such an idiot,” I mutter. I grab one of my pillows, hold it over my head, and scream into it.
I’m not impulsive—ever. Why did I have to become impulsive now, and with my brother’s best friend no less, someone who doesn’t even remember taking my virginity last night? Of course, I basically threw it at him.
When Chris texted me last night I was surprised. I hadn’t seen him since the funeral.
Chris: Hey, what are you up to?
I stare down at my phone, shocked that Chris just texted me. He’s been a ghost since Madison passed. Of course, I don’t blame him. I’ve stopped by to see Robert the past couple of weeks and he seems to be doing okay.
I’ve always brought something to eat—just wanting to make sure Robert is eating properly. He seems to enjoy the company and I’m glad. I won’t lie that when I’ve been there I’ve hoped that Chris would show up, but he hasn’t.
Haddie: Nothing, stranger. How are you?
The dots begin dancing and then his next message pops up.
Chris: Hanging in there. Do you want to come over and hang out?
Wow, I wasn’t expecting that, but I’m kind of glad he asked. I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately.
Haddie: Sure, do you want me to bring anything?
Chris: I only have booze and water, so if you want something different you might want to grab it.
Chris texts me his address and I run into the bathroom, quickly brushing my teeth, and then shaking out my hair before pulling it back into a low ponytail. I’m in black short knit shorts and a fitted gray t-shirt that says “My brother is a cop. What does yours do?” in red.
Mom had them made for us when Joe graduated from the academy. I slip my feet into a pair of flip flops, grab my purse, and a Coke Zero before heading out. By the time I make it to Chris’s the butterflies in my belly have taken flight.
Why am I nervous? I’ve known him all my life.
When I pull into his driveway a short time later I grab my drink and climb out of my car. The front door opens as I approach. I don’t want to admit that he looks really hot in his jogging shorts and sleeveless t-shirt. His blond hair is messy and I don’t miss the stubble on his face.
Chris grabs my hand when I reach the steps and he quickly pulls me inside. He wraps his arms around me, hugging me tight. “Thanks for coming over.”
I don’t miss the smell of booze on him, but it is Saturday and he’s entitled to cocktails after a busy work week, I’m sure. He finally lets me go and I look around his living room. I’m surprised to see it’s kind of a mess.
