Disasterpiece

I had the terrible feeling of guilt hanging over my shoulders. Not only because I felt at fault for the situation that escalated at Adventureland, but also because it brought back all the old memories of my time with Michael and how he had slowly managed to snip and tear at Corey and I’s relationship. He had pretty much destroyed my youth and was now attempting to destroy Corey’s life; I felt nothing but a hot, hate ridden contempt for him.

Of course once Corey had settled down after the news he’d told me not to worry about it, just to forward the letter to his manager who would get the label lawyers onto it. Even though I was sure they’d deal with it and get Corey off the charges, I still felt sick to the stomach that there was even the possibility that Corey could be punished for simply protecting me.

It was now a week after the discovery of the letter and I was again sitting on the couches in the staff room going over the accounts. We had managed to get onto the accountant, Eddie, who had been super friendly and absolutely shocked by Uncle Frank’s passing. He had changed all his appointments around so he could come over and help us sort out the files. It was really good to have someone who knew the ins and outs of the business, he taught both Brandon and I how to place the orders, do the wages and pretty much everything we needed to know finance-wise. However even though we knew what we were doing now, it was still a lot of work to contend with, I had no idea how Uncle Frank managed by himself.

I huffed loudly as I hung up the phone, placing the last order of the day in with the local brewing company. I updated the order form in front of me and filed it away with the others, leaning back into the couch I placed my hands over my eyes and sighed; just day-to-day accounts were tiring – I’d already spent three hours here this morning.

I heard the back door open and close, followed by the sounds of footsteps coming towards me. I wasn’t bothered lifting my hands from my eyes until I heard the sound of plastic ruffling and the smell of fresh flowers hit me. Peeking out from between my fingers I was greeted with the sight of a large bunch of brightly coloured flowers. I took my hands completely from my eyes and found Brandon standing there smiling like a goof.

“What are these for?” I gasped, taking the flowers from him and smelling them. He sat down next to me, kissing my forehead.

“Because you’re stressed about the accounts and Corey, so this is my attempt to help de-stress you,” he explained. I shook my head at him, a smile encapsulating my lips.

“You’re too sweet,” I said. It was true, he really was too sweet; besides all the pre-funeral stuff, he’d been working overtime and helping with the accounts and staff management, he’d even taken me out to dinner a couple of times at places that weren’t exactly wallet-friendly.

“You deserve it,” he replied, pulling me into a hug. His hugs reminded me of the safety I felt in Uncle Frank’s arms, like a familiar bond. He pulled back, tucking some hair behind my ear.

“So I’ve got the bar covered for the day, I think you should take a break – maybe go start sorting out Frank’s house?” he suggested.

“I can’t leave you here alone,” I snorted, it was now ‘my’ business after all.

“I’ve got enough staff on!” he laughed. “Am I going to have to forcibly remove you?” he joked, I chuckled, throwing my hands in the air in defeat.

“Alright, but if anything goes pear shaped just call me,” I said.

“Promise,” he smiled, planting a quick kiss on my cheek. At that moment the back door opened again and in strolled Josie, swaggering like she was top dog.

“Hey bitches what’s the go?” she greeted.

“Nothing much – hey want to come to Uncle Frank’s and help me sort stuff out?” I replied as I stood up, stretching.

“Sure I guess,” she shrugged. I felt another familiar pang on guilt at her nonchalant response, I knew she was getting bored being back in Iowa, especially given she didn’t have a job because she had to give her old one up to go on tour. She spoke to Sid every night, I could hear their conversations through the walls, so I knew how desperately she wanted to be back with him, but how she felt obligated to stay here for me. I had told her to go back, but she blatantly refused, reminding me that she promised to be here for me. It didn’t matter how much I persisted, she was stubborn and was sticking to her guns even though she didn’t like it.

“Cool, well let me put these flowers in water and we’ll go,” I said, bending down to pick the flowers up from the couch. I put them in water, said good bye to Brandon and left in Josie’s car. It was about a fifteen minute drive to Uncle Frank’s house, so it didn’t take long before we were pulling into the driveway.

“You should hire someone to come and mow the lawn,” Josie commented as we stepped out of the car. She was right, the lawns were getting fairly overgrown and as we had always had partners or Uncle Frank to do our lawns, neither of us had any idea how to do it ourselves.

“I’ll Google it later,” I replied. We walked up to the porch and entered into the house; I hadn’t really considered feeling tense or apprehensive on the drive here, but now I was standing inside I got the surreal feeling of ‘I can’t believe this is real and he is dead’ all over again. Josie rubbed my back gently, keying into my thought process before she pushed past me and into the lounge room. I shook the feeling off and followed her.

“Do you have any idea where to start?” she asked.

“None at all,” I replied with a sigh. I looked around the room, there was a beaten, brown three seater couch; two single-seat recliners; an old television set that belonged in the seventies; a large book case along the far wall filled with records, videos and ornaments; a coffee table strewn with music magazines (just like at the bar) and television guides; and a couple of floor lamps. So there wasn’t too much to go through, it was just working out where to start and what to do with it all.

“I know it’s not messy in here, but it sort of reminds me of that hoarder’s show where they get a professional organiser to come in and help them sort through everything, that’s the kind of thing you need,” Josie pondered; I smiled, agreeing with her.

“I think they’re pretty expensive but,” I pointed out.

“So?” she exclaimed, turning to me I could see the fiery glint in her eye that she gets when she’s struck with an ‘awesome’ idea (awesome being her word, not mine).

“What we’ll do is just collect a load of junk and fill the house up, then you can pretend to be a chronic hoarder and in need of help and one of those shows will come and organise it all for you!” she said, like it was the easiest, most obvious solution in the world. “Oh! And to make sure they come we’ll give you some really devious obsession that would get good ratings…like porn or creepy looking dolls or something!” she added excitedly, getting a little too into it. I laughed at her, shaking my head.

“By the time we filled a house with stuff like that, we might as well have organised it ourselves,” I grinned. She waved her hand in the air dismissively.

“Technicalities,” she grumbled, spinning around she went and collapsed on the couch. “So where do we start then?” she put to me. I bit my lip, running my fingers through my hair – I don’t know how Brandon thought this would be a good way for me to de-stress. I walked out into the kitchen, stopped and looked around, then walked back into the lounge.

“What if we work out what we want to keep first? Maybe there’s stuff in the kitchen we could use?” I suggested. Josie shrugged, heaving herself off the couch.

“You’re the boss,” she said, following me out into the kitchen.

We pulled a couple of boxes from the garage and wrote ‘keep’ on the outside of one and ‘throw’ on the other. From there we began to sort through the kitchen as it seemed the easiest place to start, given that it was mainly utensils. Suffice to say, the ‘throw’ box filled a hell of a lot quicker than the ‘keep’ box – mostly because we already had a kitchen set up and since Daniel was a profuse cook, he had bought us a lot of utensils so he had stuff to use when he cooked.

“Cake pan?” Josie asked, holding one up. I looked over to her, raising my eyebrow.

“Have you ever in your life cooked a cake?” I asked knowingly, she grinned.

“Hey, there’s always time for change!” she replied, chucking the pan into the ‘throw’ box anyway. She bent down to pick the next thing from the cupboard when her phone went off. Diving into her pocket, she pulled it out and answered.

“Hello?” she greeted as I continued to sort through the cutlery draw. There was a moment’s pause before she spoke again.

…

“What?!” she shouted, I spun around in surprise to see her jump to her feet, panic and fear cascading across her features. I cocked my head in concern, hoping for an answer but she turned away from me and continued her conversation.

“Is he ok?” she asked, her voice trembling.

…

“Alright…um…God I don’t know what to do…let me get back to you,” she said, hanging up the phone. She turned back to me and I could see she looked stressed, like she was torn between two different things. Her eyes twinkled in the overhead light – she was upset. I walked forward, engulfing her in a tight hug.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered, not letting her go. She wrapped her arms around me, exhaling deeply to control her emotions.

“Sid’s hurt himself,” she replied quietly. I stepped back from her, eyes wide.

“What? Is he ok?” I asked quickly. She shrugged, rubbing her eyes.

“I dunno…he was climbing a balcony at a show and he fell, I think he’s broken his leg or something, but they don’t know…he’s gone to hospital,” she explained, looking sadly down at the ground, her voice quivering. I took her hands in mine, rubbing my thumbs soothingly over her skin.

“You want to go see him,” I said quietly, she jolted, looking up at me.

“I don’t want to leave you but,” she said, her face contorting painfully. I shook my head at her.

“Seriously, I’ll be fine…Brandon and the work guys are here for me. Call whoever that was back and say you’ll jump on the next flight, I’ll drive you to the airport,” I replied, knowing that if she did stay she would spend every minute thinking and worrying about him. I didn’t want her to have to go through that.

“You’re the bestest friend ever,” she gushed, pulling me into a hug.