These Days Series: After Tuesday | Forgotten Yesterday | Deciding Tomorrow

by Renee Ericson

  “C’mon.” He grabs my hand and pulls me to the stairs.

  We walk upstairs, slowly, hand in hand. He then leads me down the hallway to the last door on the left.

  When we enter his room, his bed looks so inviting. Overwhelmed by my unbelievable exhaustion, I walk over and crash on top of the comforter. I guess I’ve just been pushing through the week, and it’s finally taking its toll.

  “Here, you can wear these,” he says, tossing an oversized T-shirt and boxers into my lap. “I’ll go change in the bathroom.”

  When he leaves the room, I change quickly. As I crawl under the comforter, I relax completely. The covers lift, startling me from my near slumber, as he joins me in bed. When I roll over to face him, his arms circle around my body, pulling me closer to him. His warm breath lingers in the small space between us.

  He whispers, “I’ve really missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too…a lot,” I whisper back. After I clear my throat, I say, “Brent, I am so sorry.”

  “Shhh, it’s not your fault. You can’t change it. You can just do the best you can and let me love you.”

  I can do that. I can let him love me because I need his love.

  “I love you,” I declare. Closing the gap between us, I kiss him gently on the lips. I pull back slightly. Against his lips, I softly say, “So much.”

  Brent kisses me back. He’s gentle at first, but then he deepens the kiss further. His mouth opens, and his tongue searches for my own. I open my mouth in response, our tongues meeting, as I push my chest against his, sealing our bodies together. His hands float up inside the back of my shirt (technically, his shirt) before he presses his palms to my skin.

  Finding the hem of his top, my hands move underneath to feel the warmth on his back. I trace my fingers along his spine, up and then down, and then I place a hand between us on his bare chest. With a groan, he pulls me toward him tightly, grinding his body against mine.

  Desperate to be close, I need to feel him again. After helping him out of his shirt, I pull off my own. His hands are quick to remove the boxers and panties from my body, and then he takes off his boxers as well. We kiss again for an eager yet quick and heated moment.

  Rolling away from me, he opens a drawer in his nightstand. He turns back to me with a condom in hand. I can see the want in his eyes, but he hesitates, not moving.

  “I didn’t ask you to stay for this,” he manages to say through the anticipation. “We don’t have to—”

  I lick my lips and then gently seal them to his. The kiss I give him is steady, sure, and confident, drawing the moment out. I pull back a little, searching his eyes. I feel so complete. He wants me, all of me—my baggage, my body, my heart, my soul—and I want everything that he is.

  So, that’s what we give to each other.

  Twenty-Five

  Three Weeks Later

  I’m restocking the straws in the back of the restaurant.

  “Ruby,” Sarah calls to me, “you have a table.”

  “Tell someone else to take it. My shift’s over,” I tell her as I finish putting the box away.

  I turn around to see her leaning against the entryway, arms crossed in front of her. She chortles a little before pushing off the doorframe.

  “They asked for you. It’s your table. Sorry,” she says through a breathy laugh.

  Why is she laughing?

  “All right,” I relent. I’m guessing it’s likely a regular, so at least, the tip will be good. Not to mention, I like my regulars. “I’ll do it, but no more.”

  “Table seven,” Sarah says as she turns around to head into the dining room.

  I follow her, and when I round the corner, I head straight to my table, which I already cleaned. At least the rest of my section will stay clean.

  These don’t look like my usual customers at all. Two young guys and a girl are sitting in the booth. The couple faces me while the single guy has his back to me. Leaning back, the blonde girl smiles, full of teeth, with excitement. It’s Lexi, and she’s sitting next to Owen. The dark-haired guy across from her turns around to face me, eyes lighting up. I smile, seeing Brent.

  I stop at the end of the table and don’t even reach for my pad to take their order.

  “Hey, Ruby. We missed you this morning,” Owen says while playing with a sugar packet.

  Reaching down under the table, Lexi pats Owen’s leg. “Hi,” she says.

  “Hey. Are you guys here to eat?” I question skeptically.

  “No,” Brent chimes in, dimples ablaze. “We just came by to see you. Can you sit?” He pats the area next to him.

  “Just for a minute. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

  Brent scoots in, giving me space to sit down next to him. I still get chills every time we’re close to one another. This is no different.

  Brent leans in to breathe against my ear. “I wanted to see you in your uniform.” He laughs a little.

  I can feel my face flush. Leaning back, I observe every inch of him. He’s wearing cleats, socks, shin guards, shorts, and a matching shirt. What is it about a uniform?

  “I like yours, too.” Looking back over to Owen, I ask, “So, did you guys win?”

  “Nope. Cromwell blew it in the last half,” he kids. “He was probably daydreaming about girls.”

  “Shut it. You know Liam was open. I don’t care what he says. He was off today, not me.”

  “Chill,” Owen hoots. “Damn, I’m just kidding with you. Relax.”

  “Yeah, well he better get it together. Scouts are coming next week.”

  “What do you care? You’ve already been recruited. It doesn’t matter how he does. You’re already in.”

  “I wasn’t talking about me. I meant for him. State and Greenville come next week.” Brent pauses for a moment, moving his hand to my lower back. “I’m sure they’ll be looking at you, too.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Owen says as he leans back, putting his arm over Lexi’s shoulder. “I’m covered.”

  Lexi smirks indifferently. I don’t think she believes him.

  “So, Ruby,” Lexi interrupts, taking everyone’s attention away from soccer talk. “We’re talking about going out tonight. Are you up for it?”

  “Sure.” I feel Brent’s hand move to palm my bare knee under the table. Damn short skirts. At least, my skirt is black and not baby blue or pink, like other restaurants. “Who’s going?”

  “Just us.” She signals to the four of us. “We’re thinking dinner and a movie.”

  “Yeah, I’m game. What about Casey and Autumn?”

  Owen says, “They already have plans. I guess Liam’s dad got them tickets to a Redbird football game. They headed down there after the match this morning.”

  We’ve gone out as a large group for the past two weekends, so I guess it’s time to change things up a bit. It makes sense.

  “Gotcha,” I say.

  Brent’s hand slowly starts to move up my leg until it reaches my skirt. I feel the tip of his pinky finger flirt with the hem. It’s so distracting in such a good way.

  Since Brent and I got back together, things have been better than great. I can’t deny how unbelievably well things are going. The way I feel, the trust I have with him, and the openness of every conversation have grown during the past few weeks. He said he wanted to talk more, so we have. We talk about everything.

  I’m all in with no fear. It’s amazing how honesty has brought us closer together. He wants me for me, the real me, not the person I’m trying to be or the person I think I should be. I feel like a person that I didn’t even know existed until I met Brent. He speaks to my soul. He speaks to me.

  The attraction between us is undeniable. We might have serious issues because neither one of us can keep our hands off of the other.

  Keeping him in check, I place my hand over his, calling a stop to things going any further. I give his hand a squeeze as he laces his fingers with mine. I don’t mind him touching me. Actually, I love it, but we’re in
public, and I’m at work. He can touch me later when we have some privacy.

  “All right, so we better let you get back to work,” Lexi says, scooting out of the booth with Owen following behind her.

  I stand up, letting Brent out as well. Yes, that soccer uniform does him justice.

  “I’ll call you later,” Brent says as he places a hand on my lower back.

  “Later,” Owen says, walking to the door.

  Lexi waves with one hand while Owen holds her other one. “See ya!”

  Brent kisses me quickly on the cheek.

  “You’re going to get me in trouble. Get out,” I playfully say to him.

  “I have all kinds of trouble in mind, but we’ll have time for that later.”

  “Oh, really?” Grabbing his shoulders, I turn him around, gently pushing him to the door. “Now, go.”

  Brent walks away and turns back to me to mouth “Love you.”

  “You, too,” I mouth back as he exits.

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, I pull into my driveway where I see Jas seated on our stoop, not his. He stands up, waiting for me to approach, as I’m closing the car door. Dragon leaves his side to meet me halfway.

  “Hey, Ruby,” he says in a somewhat defeated tone. “How was work?”

  “Fine. What’s up?” I ask, opening the front door.

  “It’s your dad.”

  Uh oh.

  “When was the last time you saw him?” Jas asks.

  I walk into the house, thinking over his question, as he follows behind me. It’s Saturday, and I’m having a hard time remembering if I’ve seen him since Thursday night.

  “Thursday night, I guess. I had to pick him up from Ace’s. I don’t remember seeing him yesterday morning, but I assume he went to work. Why? What’s up?”

  “Well, your dad didn’t come to work yesterday. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but when I called him, his phone just rang and rang. I figured he was just sleeping off something. I know he hasn’t been doing too well lately.”

  “No, he hasn’t,” I agree.

  “Is he still going to those meetings?” Jas rubs the top of his head.

  “He goes to them sometimes. I haven’t checked in with his sponsor in a week. I’ve been busy with school and track practice. I can call his sponsor now though. Maybe he knows where Dad could be?”

  “Nah, I’m sure he’ll show up.”

  Something doesn’t feel right.

  “All right.”

  He turns to head out the door. With his back to me, he says, “You know he’s trying, right? We all are.”

  Jas’s house has been quiet. What’s that all about? I never thought my uncle had a problem, but I know he sure did like to party.

  “What about your friends? Could he be with one of them?” I ask.

  “Maybe. I haven’t talked to them much though. I’m getting too old for that crap. Like I said, we’re all trying.”

  “I know,” I say with a bit of indifference. I can’t deny the evidence, so I do believe him for the most part.

  He nods and opens the door to leave.

  “Hey, Jas,” I call out. “Can you call me if you hear from him?”

  “Yeah, I will.” He then exits without another word.

  I head back to my room and drop off my stuff. Then, I take a shower to remove the morning grime that comes with hours of schlepping bacon and eggs to hungry customers. After I get dressed, I go to the kitchen to get a glass of water and tidy up a bit.

  Something is off. With Dragon by my side, I turn around in circles in the small space of the kitchen, trying to figure out what is wrong. Dragon stands there with a question in his eye.

  “I don’t know, boy,” I say to him, scratching him behind the ears.

  Everything looks right, so I shrug it off. Reaching for the cabinet door to grab a glass, I open it, and that’s when I see a problem. An entire shelf is empty. Where are all the glasses?

  I start to panic because I’m not sure what this means. Opening all the cabinets, I see the rest are fine. It’s just the one cabinet. It’s so peculiar. There’s nothing in the sink, and we don’t have a dishwasher. I check the trash next. It’s been emptied, too. What’s going on? It was full this morning. The only reason I know is because I made a mental note to take it out when I got home.

  Dragon moves over to the back door, whining a bit while wagging his tail. I open the door, but instead of heading straight out to the tree in the back, he veers to the right toward the garbage cans.

  Please don’t pee on those. He does. Gross.

  When he’s done, Dragon nudges a garbage can with his nose. I hope he doesn’t think there’s anything good to eat in there. Joining him, I take off the lid to see what’s inside that could be bothering him. Maybe there’s an animal in there or something. What I find inside is shocking. It’s filled with beer cans, liquor bottles, and pieces of broken glass. I stare at it for a long time before I snap out of it. What does this mean?

  Turning around, I go back into the house to see if I can put any of the clues together. My dad never kept any of that shit out where people could see it, except for a case of beer in the fridge. I check there first and find no beer. Holy shit! Did he drink all of those? I hope not. I hope he just had a moment of clarity and decided to dump them. That might explain all the cans. What about the liquor bottles? Where did those come from? Another moment of clarity?

  Walking down the hall with Dragon on my heels, I stop in front of my dad’s bedroom door. It’s closed. That’s weird. I didn’t notice that before. He never closes it. It’s usually left ajar.

  “Well, let’s see what this is all about,” I say to Dragon. I turn the knob with a sweaty palm, full of anticipation, and enter his room.

  What I see is not what I was expecting. His room is clean and empty. I enter and turn to the closet to find it’s a mess, like it’s been raided. Clothes are on the floor; some are barely hanging on the hangers. Flipping on the closet light, I hope to make sense of it all.

  It’s a mess. That’s what it is. Clothes, shoes, papers, and tissues cover the closet floor space. A cardboard box with a bottle of tequila sits in the middle of it all. What the hell? He left one? I don’t know why I’m trying to apply logic to this. I know better. There is no logic when it comes to what my dad does with this stuff. There is no handbook to his decisions.

  Dragon is whimpering from behind me.

  “What is it, boy?” I ask, turning and standing.

  I can’t see him, but I hear him behind the bed. He lets out a puppy-like bark, tail wagging.

  “I’m coming,” I say, walking toward him.

  When I round the corner of the bed, I see Dragon licking my father’s hand. The sight is not good.

  “Fuck!” I choke out, quickly getting down on my knees.

  I want to help him, but I’m not sure if I should touch him. What am I supposed to do? CPR? Move him? Shake him?

  A pool of blood and vomit, which smells of pure alcohol, surrounds his head. Involuntarily, I begin to gag at the sight and smell. He’s unconscious and unmoving. I have no idea where the blood is coming from. Looking closer, I see it’s from a gash on his head. Shit!

  I look around quickly. Trying to figure out what to do, I assess what my options are. That’s when I see the marble nightstand that was his mother’s. It’s sitting just inches from his head. He must have passed out and hit it. Fuck! This isn’t good.

  “Dad!” Nothing. “Dad, can you hear me?”

  He doesn’t make a sound.

  I get close to see if he’s breathing. I try to listen for inhales and exhales. I’m not sure. I think I maybe hear something. My mind isn’t working right. What do I do? Dragon lies down beside him, nudging him with his nose.

  I can do this. I can fix this. He’s not broken. I can do this. I can fix him.

  Quickly, I dial 9-1-1 on my phone.

  “9-1-1. What’s your emergency?” the operator answers.

  Watching him, I sp
eak to the operator. “My father. He hit his head. He’s bleeding and unconscious.”

  My eyes are in a trance, concentrating on his chest. I think I see movement.

  “I think he’s breathing,” I add.

  Tentatively, I place my hand on him to see if his chest is expanding. I think it is, but I can’t be sure. It might just be my shaky hand.

  “Stay calm. We are dispatching an ambulance now. I need you to check to see if he has a pulse.”

  I take his wrist, placing two fingers over the pulse point, to see if I can feel blood pumping through the vein. It’s faint, but I feel it.

  “Yes, he has a pulse,” I say numbly.

  The operator continues to talk to me calmly through the phone. She has me watch him and asks for any changes. I see nothing. He remains the same.

  ***

  What seems like an eternity later, I finally hear a siren coming down the street. I’m afraid to leave my dad alone, but I go ahead and race to the door to meet the paramedics. I watch as they get out of the ambulance and head to the door.

  “In here!” I shout.

  A male and female EMT walk in with their equipment.

  “Down the hall, first door on the left,” I say hurriedly.

  They pass me, and I follow. I don’t enter the room. I just stand at the door. Dragon pants next to the female while she is leaning over my dad.

  “Come, Dragon,” I call.

  He moves obediently to my side.

  “Ruby?” Jas says from behind me. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s my dad. I found him,” I tell him through trembling lips.

  Jas stops, sucking in a breath, as he takes it all in. I can see in his eyes what I must have looked like when I realized what was happening. Fear. Shock. Denial. He doesn’t say another word.

  “Miss?” the male paramedic calls. “Do you know when this happened?”

  “No, I just found him when I got home. I was at work. I think he hit his head on the nightstand.”