That One Day (That One #1.5) (10 page)

I don’t recall making my way into the bedroom. I only remember spending the early hours of the New Year with lots of whiskey and some leftover pizza, watching re-runs of a sitcom.

But I guess at some point I must’ve gone to bed because that’s where I suddenly bolt upright from my whiskey-induced sleep, woken up by something wet and cold splashing on my face. I splutter and run a hand over my face.

“What the fuck?”

The words come out as a roar. Last night had been bad enough. I don’t need this kind of shit today.

When I open my eyes, it takes me a few moments to be coherent. Then I notice Allie standing a few feet from my bed, a scowl firmly on her pretty face, and one of my grandmother’s vases in her hand. I knew I should have sold all of them. And I shouldn’t have let Allie put flowers in them the other day. Now the flowers are gone and the water is dripping down my face, the smell of rotten flowers filling my nostrils.

Jake stands in the door, arms crossed, glowering at me.

The residual alcohol in my blood stream makes me stupidly courageous, or maybe just stupid. I jump off the bed and with two big strides I’m right in her face.

“What the fuck was that for?”

“You asshole called my sister by someone else’s name while trying to get in her pants. By a guy’s name, at that. She might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, and it might not be hard to get in her pants, but calling her the wrong name?”

It’s more of an accusation than a question. I’m guessing Kylie had a talk with Allie—sister-to-sister.

I slump back down on the edge of my bed with what I hope is an apologetic look on my face.

“For heaven’s sake—why don’t you just run her over with your truck for good measure? She actually liked you.”

“We were just making out. Not like I proposed to her.” It just slips out, but at the end of the day, it’s the truth. Yeah, I know—it’s still a stupid answer because now she’s all up in my face.

“That doesn’t mean you can be a disrespectful asshole.”

I briefly wonder where the sweet, bubbly, and friendly Allie went. Never thought the day would come when I would miss her.

“Not like I planned it, Al. I’m sorry, okay?”

With a sigh she plops down next to me. “So, who is Frankie? Is he the reason you’re trying to pickle your liver?”

She kicks last night’s whiskey bottle with her foot, making it roll across the wooden floor, until it comes to a halt at Jake’s feet.

“Frankie is a girl. Francine. She just hates being called that. Says it makes her feel like she should be signing up for a hip replacement,” I explain, trying to set the record straight about my sexual orientation that for the first time in my life seems to be in question.

“That still doesn’t answer my question.” Allie starts tapping her foot, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyebrows drawn together.

I want to brush her off, to say something to make her leave, but God, I really need to talk to someone before this shit eats me alive.

“Yes and no.”

“Care to elaborate so I know if Jake should kill you or not?”

A smile tugs at her lips before she flops back on the bed, looking at the ceiling, her feet dangling a couple inches above the floor.

I do the same, take a deep breath, and start talking.

I tell her everything. All the lies I was told, all the crap with my dad, my night with Frankie, and the fact that I’m not man enough to figure all this shit out—to call her and apologize. She listens intently, not saying a word. Even when I finish she stays quiet, and I wonder if she fell asleep. I look up and find Jake sitting on the floor, his back against the door frame, giving me a sympathetic look.

Just when I’m about to get up, feeling like a fool, Allie sits up and clears her throat. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Ben.”

I actually feel offended. I just spilled my guts to her and my story isn’t pretty. At least it doesn’t feel pretty to me.

Now it’s my turn to sit up. “Did you hear what I told you?”

She purses her lips, her eyebrows lifted. “Yes, I did. And yes, your life got fucked up. Badly. Yes, it seems your mother is a liar and your dad has gone crazy. You screwed over the girl you’ve been in love with for years and who, to my surprise, actually seems to love you back. But guess what, life goes on. It’s up to you what you make of it all. You can go on hiding behind your fears, your self-pity, and misery, not to mention behind a truck-load of whiskey. Your life unraveling is a handy excuse, but it won’t work forever.

“So unless you want to become a miserable, bitter old man, who sits in this house drinking himself into an early grave, while having a pity party, you need to put your big boy pants on and take charge. Why would you let your mother ruin the rest of your life? Isn’t it already enough that she ruined your dad’s? And, by the way, you sure he isn’t talking crazy? You know, considering where he’s been living for the past couple decades.

“My two cents: Get to know your dad better, spend some time with him, finish this house if you feel the need to, and then go and see if she can forgive you, if you have a chance with her.”

I stare at her open-mouthed. The knee-jerk reaction would be to tell her she has no idea, she never went through this shit. But before I can form those words, I realize it would be just another excuse to avoid taking responsibility for what happens from now on. I had no say what happened back when I was a baby or until I found out the truth. I was left in the dark. But now I can, and have to, take control of my own life.

I look at Allie who seems ready for a fight. Her left eyebrow is raised and she has a look of
bring it on
in her eyes.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Instead of her answer, I hear Jake’s dirty chuckle. “You have no idea, man.”

I laugh before flopping back down on the bed, but end up groaning as I run my hands down my face.

“Thanks, Allie.”

“Anytime, my friend. Anytime. Just don’t be surprised if you find your tires slashed. I doubt Kylie will be this understanding.”

“I guess I should apologize to her, huh?”

“Oh, hell no. I wouldn’t advise that. She’ll get over it believing you’re gay and therefore, not interested. If she finds out you called her the name of a girl you’re in love with—no, I don’t want to buy a black dress for your funeral.”

“I think I might need a shower—” I don’t get to finish the sentence because Allie speaks up.

“Uh, yeah, you kinda do.”

“Thanks. After I’m showered, you guys want to go out for breakfast somewhere?”

“I’m in,” Jake says, getting up from his place on the floor.

“Me too,” Allie agrees, giving me a hug and then making her way out of the house with Jake.

I guess it’s time for me to get my shit together.

Eleven months later…
I walk down the familiar corridor of the hospital for the last time—at least for the foreseeable future.

I’ve spent the past eleven months following Allie’s advice. The house is fixed up; every room looks streamlined, modern, and as good as new. It was a lot of work, but the end-result is worth it. It now resembles a home and not a collection of dust traps. To my surprise, it even started to feel like home to me, but never a hundred percent. There’s just something missing, but I suppose it’s as much of a home as I’ll currently get.

Mike’s tools have been put to good use between the work on the house and the jobs I’ve worked on throughout the time I’ve spent here. There was always a steady supply of those, sometimes so many I had to say no in order to be able to still get stuff done in the house. My skill set has improved, and I’ve impressed myself a few times with what I was able to accomplish.
 

My dad and I have gotten closer, or as close as you can get when you never see each other in a private setting. There were good visits and less than thrilling ones.

Usually, the mention of my mother would send him straight into depression and make a conversation next to impossible. It was tiring, frustrating, and at times, frightening.

Throughout this whole time, I couldn’t help but think that despite everything my mother did, his reaction wasn’t normal. It wasn’t healthy, and a feeling of fear crept into me, wondering if maybe one day I’m bound to go down this road, too. Considering I can’t stop thinking about Frankie, can’t get her out of my head, I’m not sure the fear is unfounded. Knowing what I know now, I can’t stop the nagging thoughts telling me I’ll end up just like him—crazy.

He’s had his ups and downs in the time I came to visit and the downs were hard to witness. I’ll never know my dad the way he used to be. The man before his world fell apart, and for that, I can’t help but hate my mother. She’s taken something from me she had no right to take. The more time I spend with my dad and the more I witness his pain, the more this feeling grows.

I broached the subject of eventually leaving back in March. I didn’t know how he would take it. He had been silent for a long time, a really long time, before he said, “Son, you don’t need to revolve your life around me. I’m in here. I doubt I’ll ever get out. I can’t cope, especially not now, after finding out the truth about what your mother has done to us. Whenever I was out of the hospital, I ended up breaking down, trying to end it all. I’m safer in here.”

It’s not the type of words you expect to hear from your father as encouragement, but I guess it’s the sentiment that counts. And it makes me feel better knowing he’s okay with it.

Now I’m on my way to say goodbye, which is important for both of us. This time we get to say goodbye, and we know we’ll see each other again. I promised to visit him as often as I can when things have settled, and I have figured things out with Frankie.

He’s already in our usual spot on the couch when the nurse ushers me into the room.

“Hey, Dad.” I plop down next to him on the couch.

“You packed? Ready to go?” His interest seems genuine, although I detect some hesitation in his voice. I don’t like the idea of leaving him behind. It must be so much harder for him. I’ll be trying to get my life in order while he’ll never get his back.

“Yeah, all ready to go. I’ll just have to stop by the house on my way and grab everything. And then I’m on the road.” I grab the envelope I have in my jeans pocket. “Here are pictures of the house. I thought you might want to see them.”

I pass it over to him, and he starts flipping through them.

“Wow. This is really great work, Son. I’m proud of you. It’s…I had no idea this old house had that kind of potential. I bet you could make a lot of money selling it.” His eyes are wide with amazement. It’s the first real compliment he has given me, the first time he said he’s proud of me. It makes my heart swell with satisfaction and pride.

“Where did you learn to do this kind of work?” I don’t answer right away, which causes him to look up at me, awaiting my reply.

What am I supposed to say?
Oh, the man who stole your wife and your kid taught me all this.
That might not be the best way to say goodbye, so I decide to lie. I don’t like it, but there’s no point in opening more wounds for him. And to be honest, I also don’t want to deal with the fallout.

“Oh, school and now Mike has helped me a lot,” I say, hoping he’ll believe my lie.

“It’s really amazing, Ben.” He puts the pictures back in the envelope and wants to hand them back to me.

“You can keep them if you want to. I have them on my phone.”

“Thanks. So what’s your plan of action?” The corner of his lips tugs up into a smile.

“Go back, hope she’s there for Thanksgiving, and that I’ll make it out without her nailing my balls to the wall. And that maybe instead she’ll give me a chance to prove myself.”

“Keep me updated on that.” He gets lost in thought. It’s something I’ve gotten used to with him. I just give him the time he needs.

Suddenly, he turns to me and says out of nowhere, “You remind me so much of me, Son. We’re quite alike.”

I don’t answer him right away, unsure how to react. My heart starts to pound and my mouth goes dry, a feeling of panic and dread grips me. I look at the broken man in front of me, the man who just voiced my biggest fear, and I know I don’t want to end up like him.

There are times when I wonder how he was before my mother left him. If he was this fixated on her, as well. It wouldn’t excuse what she has done in any way, but it definitely would be hard to be in a relationship with someone like that.

If my feelings for Frankie ever bordered on this kind of obsession, I’d leave her before becoming a burden in any way. Though this won’t be a problem if I don’t succeed winning her back, which won’t be easy. I’m not scared of fighting for her, but I’m scared of her finding out about my father and possibly coming to the same conclusion I have—that I might turn into him one day.

But I can’t let it go without trying. She saw me at my worst and she still wanted me. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.

“Okay. It’s time for me to get going if I want to make it there by Thanksgiving.” I stand and he follows my lead. I hug him, holding him close.

“You take care of yourself, Dad. Just remember, you aren’t alone anymore. You have me. You always will, okay?”

When he pulls back, his eyes shine with tears.

“You too, Son. You too.”

For a moment, we stand awkwardly around the room. Then I turn toward the door and give him a wave before I leave to get the last few things out of my house.

***

Back at the house, I grab my stuff and walk through it one last time. It’s gorgeous. There, I said it. The house is fucking gorgeous. Gone is the musty darkness and oppressive décor. It’s fresh, open, and inviting.

I haul my duffel bag and one box with pictures and my dad’s trophies into the truck before I get another box with some keepsakes I want to take with me. They are taped shut, so I can store them somewhere until I know where I’ll settle.

I turn off the light and lock up before I climb over the small fence and knock on Mike’s door. Kitty opens it, dressed in black sweat pants, and a red, tight T-shirt with the word
Bitch
printed in bold, black letters across her chest.

“Hey, Ben. Come in.” Yep, Kitty moved in with Mike. Things seem to be serious. The two are really good together. She’s a cool chick with a good head on her shoulders and a huge heart.

I make my way inside where I find Mike, Jake, and Allie at the kitchen table.

Allie immediately bounces over to me, putting her arm around my waist. She couldn’t reach any higher even if she wanted to.

“So you’re really leaving?”

“Yep. It’s time to sort out this part of my life.”

“Well, that’s really smart of you. I wonder who helped you figure that out.”

“Oh, this really annoying chick told me to get my shit together. I guess even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then.”

Jake starts laughing. “She regularly finds two, don’t you, Allie?”

Allie blushes, but it’s Kitty who comes to her rescue.

“Manners, Jake.”

“You’re a stripper, Kitty. Me talking about nuts offends you?”

“I get naked for money. You’re rude for the sake of it. There’s a difference, young man.”

Mike ignores them both and rolls to my side, laughing.

“Don’t be a stranger. You’ve always got a family here.”

“Thanks, Mike. For everything.”

“Right back at you. Without you, I wouldn’t have met Kitty. I owe you.”

I clap his shoulder before I walk outside, Jake and Allie on my heels.

“Okay guys, this is it.” I take the keys out of my pocket and hand them to Jake.

“Here you go, man.”

“You sure about this?” he asks, taking the keys from my hand.

I’ve decided to rent out my house to Jake and Allie. They need a place of their own now that Mike has Kitty, and this will allow them to stay close enough if he ever needs any help. Besides, they’ve become good friends in the past months, and I know they’ll take care of my house.

“You’re renting the house. It’s not like I’m giving it away for free.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that, dude?” Jake jokes, pulling me into a one-armed, manly hug. When he steps back, he nods at me, now completely serious. “Thanks, we really appreciate it.”

“No problem, man.”

When he lets me go, it takes about a nanosecond and Allie hangs around my neck. How she managed to reach that high is a mystery. I’m tempted to check the area for a hidden trampoline.

“I’ll miss you, Ben. Frankie better be worth it. And if not, you can always come back and tell Kylie you’re bi.” She chuckles into my ear.

“She’s definitely worth it. I won’t become your brother-in-law anytime soon. You’ll have to find a new project—some other poor schmuck who needs an ass-kicking. Thanks for that, by the way.”

I let her go and make my way to the truck. Once inside, I open the window. I give the house another look before I start the engine and roll down the driveway.

“Stay in touch,” Jake shouts, and I wave in agreement.

Turning my truck north, I’m Michigan bound and nearly as nervous as I was when I was coming here eighteen months ago.