It's a Start

Oh yeah, drinking with sleeping pills is a no-no. I knew it was since Dr. Carr specifically told me not to and it also said that on the canister. Oops.

I went to sleep right when I got home the other day and I’d slept most of Sunday away as well. When I finally rolled over and looked at the clock, it was nine. I missed a total of four meals and my stomach gurgled. Plus, I stunk worse than a skunk. The sky was dark outside and Craig’s car was here surprisingly. Most nights around this time he’d be out drinking probably.

I showered quickly, just to smell better and not have disgusting hair. The TV in the living area was on and when I saw that we had a guest, I stopped short and panicked. It was just Brian though, showing me his face when he heard me come down the short hall.

“Hey,” he smiled a little at me. I waved slightly and shuffled into the kitchen to make myself a late night bowl of cereal. I sat at the counter and watched Craig come into the kitchen for another beer. I frowned when he turned around, getting one from him in return.

“What?” He wondered, popping the top off and throwing it away. I didn’t answer as I spooned another mouthful. “I should have everything of mine out by Wednesday, just to let you know.” I didn’t answer that either because I didn’t know what to say. Oh, okay, sounds good. Nope.

He sat back down with his brother and I finished eating. I said goodnight even though I’d probably stay up for a few hours. I climbed into bed and went through my phone, seeing if I missed anything while I was passed out.

Speaking of, that was probably the best sleep I’d gotten since I woke up from a coma. It was peaceful in a way.

My computer sat on my lap and I played around on it, checking my email, even though I really didn’t have anyone to talk to. I wanted to send my parents a quick ‘hey, how are you? I’m fine, just came out of a coma.’ But I couldn’t do that with what Craig told me.

The sleeping pills actually did work very well for me and I was ready for a whole new day when I woke up. I strayed away from the alcohol when taking the tablets because I didn’t want to harm myself in any way right now. I was getting back on track and living; I was grateful for that.

Wednesday finally rolled around and I was sat on the one-step concrete porch, watching Craig stuff the last box inside. It was about ten and I woke up to find a prepared guest bedroom. Nothing of his was in my closet, none of his little kick-knacks were around the house and a small amount of the interior had changed so far.

His car door closed and he walked up the small pathway, trying to take the extra key off his chain. “Here you go,” he handed it to me and I was hesitant to take it, but he dropped it into my hand. We both looked around at the house that he was going to miss living in and I slightly frowned, looking back at his eyes.

“Craig…” I started with a sigh. “I’m so–“

“Don’t, Andrea. You’ve said sorry enough for the past month.” He sighed, pulling me into his chest for a warm hug.

It felt nice. I buried my face into his chest and wrapped my arms around his waist. He rubbed my back a little and I knew he’d miss this the most. “I feel terrible,” I mumbled into his shirt.

“I know. But we can’t change it and we both have to accept that.” A few more minutes and he pulled away with a smile on his face. “I need to accept it,” he clarified, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than me. I nodded and let my hands slip back down to my sides. “I’ll see you around, Andrea.” With that he left, but I couldn’t do it.

I called after him and watched him stop short. “Dinner on Friday? I’ll make pasta,” I improvised, trying to make him say yes. He nodded and I let out a breath of relief when he pulled out of the driveway and drove down the road.

At least we left off on a good note.

A quiet new home greeted me and I wandered into the living area, finding the record player that apparently I bought when I was eighteen. There were tons and tons of records in the shelves under where it sat and I grabbed one without knowing what it was and played it. Loud.

That’s what I did whenever I was home for the next couple days. I went to classes online while the music played and danced around like no one could see me. It was fun and refreshing. It put me in a better mood for work and Mindy was happy that I was content. I even finally went swimming in the pool out in the backyard. That was refreshing too, humming along with the music while it played from inside the house.

It was Friday now, a day I was looking forward to. I got dressed in a good mood, refreshed and energized after a fruit-full breakfast and a warm shower. My jeans slipped on and I added a cuff bracelet and a ring then left my room without any makeup. The guest room hadn’t been touched since Craig left, so I decided on stripping the bed and adding on new sheets. There were a few paintings on the walls that I hadn’t noticed and I glanced at them a couple times while covering the mattress.

The grocery store was on my to-do list next and I walked up and down the aisles, searching for anything that I needed. I left with about five bags and piled them into the backseat of my car.

The scent of the pasta I was making filled the house while a Jerry Lee Lewis vinyl played from behind me. Craig called earlier and said he’d come around at seven. It was now getting closer and closer to seven so I ran toward the record player and turned it off. Craig knocked on the door about a second later and I walked toward the door, opening it with a small smile.

“What, are you having a party?” He laughed a little with dessert in his hands.

I shut the door behind him and took the pie from him. “Did you make this?”

“No, my mom did. Apple pie’s your favorite.” He said while taking his jacket off and following me toward the kitchen. He draped it over the chair at the counter and came over to waft the aroma toward his nose. “Smells delicious. I bet it tastes better.”

“Thank you,” I smiled, grabbing two plates from the cupboard. We decided on wine even though I was a little uneasy about it, but he wasn’t mine to look after anymore.

We sat down a few minutes later and started to eat, keeping up a small conversation between us. He was taking it slow on the wine; twenty minutes and still on his first glass. He really did like the pasta, adding on a little more Parmesan cheese than I would’ve liked, but nonetheless he liked it.

“So, when’s my birthday?” I asked curiously, stabbing a few noodles and looking up at him.

“Ah, you missed it this year, but April 1st.”

“Really? Maybe that’s the reason I’m so funny.”

He scoffed playfully, “Yeah, maybe.”

“Hey,” I punched his arm. “I’m funny and you know it. You even said I made you laugh a lot the day we met.”

“You did,” he nodded while swallowing. “You wanted to go Hawaii for your birthday, but I opted out.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve never been on a plane and I’m not really a fan of them.” I sipped from my glass with creased eyebrows and he explained further even though he’s probably told me this before. “Oldest brother passed away from a crash.”

I frowned as I set the glass down. “I’m sorry.” He shrugged it off.

We finished our slices of dessert about ten minutes later and we were both leaning back in our chairs with full stomachs. He swallowed the last drop of his wine and stared at the bottle in front of me.

Maybe it was wrong, but I asked anyways. “Why have you been drinking so much?” I wasn’t looking at him so I didn’t see the face that he made. Was it full of anger, annoyance, or guilt?

“I-I don’t know. It helps.”

“With what?” This time I was looking at him.

“Everything that’s been happening for the past month.”

I scoffed, “So you’re drinking your memories away?”

“Not memories. Grieves.”

“But I’m not dead,” I retorted, just getting angry now.

“The Andrea I knew is.”

Well that hurt. I kept quiet, drinking the last of what was in my glass. I know he missed his best friend, I know he missed the better jokes and the laughs, the mornings where he’d wake up with a smile on his face, the perfect moments, the happy nerves, the love. I know he missed all of those things, but he was bringing himself down by drinking. He was in a worse state when he was drunk and that was going to kill him if he kept it up. Hell yeah, I was worried about him.

“Do you remember my first night back?” I asked quietly, rubbing my finger against the glass.

“Yeah, I made you dinner–“

“Not that part. You were drinking in the middle of the night and I took you to bed. I felt so bad and you looked terrible, Craig. It was probably wrong of me, but I kissed you because I wanted you to feel okay, even if it was just for a second.”

“Y-you did?” He leant forward, eyes wide. I gave him a nod and didn’t expect him to kiss me flat on the mouth. He breathed harshly into me, like he’d been holding back for so long. I kept shaking my head, trying to get him to stop, but he wanted it so bad and I could taste it on his lips. You want him to be happy, don’t you? Of course I did. He deserved it.

After our activities in my bedroom, I could only think of two words: oh no.