by Nicola Haken
“Um, okaaay… soppy much?” I ran through our time in the pub in my head. Yep, he’d definitely only had one drink.
“I mean it. I’m so proud that you’re my sister.”
“Well, I love you too, bro,” I replied awkwardly. Don’t get me wrong I love Chris to the moon and back, and I know he feels the same about me, but he’s never been so openly mushy about it before. It unnerved me – made me wonder if something was wrong.
“Right, time for round two.” Chris hollered for the barman’s attention and I found myself staring at him concernedly. Maybe I was being irrational and reading too much into it, but when he told me he was proud of me I saw something flicker in his vibrant green eyes that I’ve never seen before.
It looked like fear… and it scared the hell out of me.
Chapter Sixteen
~Emily~
Chris and I got back from the pub around 10 PM. We were both merrily tipsy – not so drunk we were falling over, but not sober enough to focus so deeply on life’s crap. It didn’t last long though. Kicking off my tan pumps and slouching back onto the couch, my new best friend Guilt came to visit. I welcomed the feeling the alcohol brought. I relished the numbness and the fact it helped me forget things. It was then I realised just how easy it would be to become dependant on it. If every time the numbness wore off all that was left was pain and torment, I suddenly understood why someone would go back for more.
Why Dexter would go back for more.
“I miss you,” I whispered out loud into the empty air.
“Right,” Chris said, barging into the living room with a determined look on his face. Being so busy wallowing, he startled me and I jumped. “An Officer and a Gentleman, Ghost or Dirty Dancing?” He fanned out the DVD’s in his hands like a deck of cards and my heart melted.
“When did you get those?” I asked curiously, feeling both grateful and loved at the knowledge Chris would only have my three favourite films of all time in his hands if he’d gone out especially to buy them for me.
“I don’t know what you mean. These have been at the top of my collection for years,” he teased with a wink. “How about a movie marathon. We’ll watch all three with shit loads of Haagen Dazs and caramel cookies. What’d ya say?”
“I say bring it on…”
We started with Dirty Dancing and I didn’t care that I was making a holy show of myself when I demonstrated some of my best moves in the middle of the living room. As always, I blubbed like a baby when Johnny came to get Baby from the corner and then I sang my heart out to The Time of My Life.
Ghost was up next and I got to spend another couple of hours drooling over Patrick Swayze. My eyes were literally burning by the time he disappeared into the light. Chris looked at me like I was a spoon short of a cutlery drawer so I slapped his arm and told him he was dead inside.
By the time we got round to An Officer and a Gentleman my belly was so full of ice cream and cookies I swear the overspill was trying to crawl up my throat to escape. Sleepiness started tickling at my eyes – taunting me… trying to lure me into the nightmares I knew I would have.
“I’ll sleep on the floor in your room if you want,” Chris offered. I curled my arms around my bent knees and looked at him quizzically. “I know you’re afraid to go to sleep, Emmie. That’s why I got these films… but you can’t stay awake forever.”
Oh, Chris… He his eyes were dull with tiredness and worry and I didn’t like being responsible for that.
“I had no idea that’s what this movie night was about,” I muttered, feeling slightly embarrassed.
“Hey, it wasn’t just about that,” he assured softly, scooting closer to me and wrapping one arm around my shoulder. Instinctively I snuggled into it. He made me feel safe and protected – loved unconditionally. “You’re my baby sister, Emmie. I don’t like seeing you hurting and I just want to take it away for you.”
I want that too.
“I’ll be okay,” I lied. “You’re not sleeping on a hard floor for me. You’re only in the next room.”
“I’d sleep on a bed of fucking lava if I thought you’d get a decent nights sleep.” Seriously, I have the Best. Brother. Ever.
“I love you, bro,” I declared with a heartfelt, grateful smile. “And I’m so thankful for everything you’ve done for me.” He cocked a curious eyebrow as though he genuinely had no idea how much he meant to me. “For letting me stay, getting me a job at the garage, looking out for me… I’d be so lost without you.”
“No you wouldn’t,” he declared sternly, making me feel like I’d said something wrong. After a long pause he dragged in a deep breath and carried on. “You’re a strong young woman, Emmie. You’ve never really had anyone, you had to bring yourself up, find your own way… yet you’re still so open. You care so much about people even though you’ve been let down so often and I really admire that.”
“No one’s let me down,” I countered.
“That’s exactly what I mean. You refuse to see the bad in people and while sometimes I worry that’s gonna make you a pushover, I also think it proves what an amazing person you are. Like I said before, I’m proud of you.”
I smiled warmly but once again those niggling worries seeped into my veins.
“Are you okay, Chris?” His eyebrow shot up, silently asking me to elaborate. “You’re not usually so gushy that’s all.”
“What’s wrong with letting my baby sister know that she’s special?” he said seriously. “That doesn’t mean you’re not an annoying little twerp at times,” he teased.
“Nob head.”
“Hey no swearing or I’ll tell Mum and Dad.”
“If I thought that was all it would take to get you guys talking again, I’d swear more often.” It made me sad that they didn’t see each other, even though I didn’t blame Chris one iota. It was all my parents’ doing – especially my mums. They turned their back on him for not living up to their fancy-pants standards. It was in that moment I realised they still didn’t know I’d dropped out of Uni and my heart sank as I wondered if I’d be the next in line to be exiled from the family.
“Don’t, Emmie. You know that was their choice.” Chris’ eyes dropped to the floor and it was the first time I’d ever seen that look in his eyes.
Regret.
“Come on,” I said, turning back to the TV. “Sid’s about to kill himself.” I really should’ve announced a spoiler alert there in case you haven’t seen it. Sorry.
Smiling at me, Chris patted his knee and I laid my head on it and swung my legs over the edge of the couch. Then I forced all thoughts that didn’t revolve around Richard Gere out of my mind and focused on the TV.
**********
I woke with a jolt to the sound of my phone ringing. As my neck snapped up I realised I’d fallen asleep on Chris’ lap. The DVD was stuck on the title page and Chris’ head was flopped backwards as he continued to snore away. As I peeled myself carefully off his lap to get my phone I hoped he hadn’t stayed in such an uncomfortable position just because he didn’t want to disturb me.
My phone was on the coffee table, vibrating against the glass, and when I leaned over and picked it up… I stopped breathing.
“Sarah?” I answered in a panic, knowing she always works out the time difference before calling. She wouldn’t call knowing it was the middle of the night here unless it was an emergency.
“I’m sorry for calling so late,” she said. Her voice was low and raspy. She was crying. Part of me was so terrified of what she was about to say I wanted to throw the phone to the ground and stamp on it. “It’s um… just…”
“Sarah what is it?” I snapped unintentionally. “What’s happened?”
“It’s Dexter…” Heart breaking sadness laced her voice, making it tremble. Oh my God. “He OD’d this morning.”
Chapter Seventeen
~Emily~
No.
God no.
Please God no.
My legs refused to support me any longer
and I collapsed onto the couch, instantly rousing Chris.
“Emmie?” he pressed, placing a cautious hand on my shoulder. I ignored him completely.
“Is he… he’s not…”
Please God don’t let him be…
“No, honey. He’s in the hospital. They’ve pumped his stomach to remove the alcohol and he’s receiving intravenous hydration for hyperthermia. He’s-”
“That means he’s too cold right?” I interrupted, confused. Chris nudged me again and mouthed ‘what’s going on’. Again, I ignored him, waving him off with my hand.
“No – that’s hypothermia. This is the opposite. His body temperature has risen to a dangerous level. He’s tachycardic and has had several seizures. They’ve administered benzodiazepines and are hoping things will start to settle down soon. He’s in a bad way, Emily.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll call you for the details of the hospital when I land.” Sarah didn’t argue with me – she knew there’d be no point. All I got in response was a sniffling of tears.
“It’ll be okay now, honey. You’ll see. Now he’s here, he’ll be forced into facing this. We’re going to get him back… I just know it.” I nodded to myself - waves of fear, confusion and utter panic rolling like cement in my belly.
“I’ll be in touch soon,” I said, raking my fingers through my hair. “Tell him I love him. I don’t care if he can’t hear you… just… tell him.”
I was already walking to my room to pack some things before I’d even hung up the phone. I was rifling through my wardrobe when Chris put his hand on my shoulder and spun me around to face him. It made me jump – I’d completely forgotten he existed.
“What the hell’s going on, Emmie?”
“It’s Dexter. He’s in the hospital. I need to arrange a flight. Can I borrow some money for my ticket? I’ll give it back to you, I promise. Where the hell is my rucksack? I need to-”
“Emily stop!” he ordered firmly, pulling me back up as I bent down to search under the bed for my bag. “What’s happened? Tell me!”
“He’s been in an accident.” I didn’t plan to lie to him – it just fell out of my mouth without thinking. “I need to get to him.” Chris scratched his head in confusion while I continued my assault through my drawers.
“But… you’re not together?” he questioned, forcing his eyebrows together.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t love him!” I blared. “I need to go, Chris. I don’t expect you to understand but please… I need your help.”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
“What? Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t just up and leave. You’re about to start your own business.”
“Fuck the business, Emmie. Ernie will take care of it till I get back.” I shook my head at him. “Look at you – you’re shaking. I don’t know what the hell went on over there but you’ve not been the same since you got back. I’m not letting you face that alone again. I’m coming.”
Damn. I couldn’t have Chris with me. He’d find out – he’d discover the real reason I came home and he would hate Dexter. Plus, he would be disappointed in me for still loving him.
“I really appreciate what you’re trying to do… but there’s not enough time. You need to complete an ESTA before they’ll even let you board the plane. I can’t afford to wait. I need to get to him!”
“That takes a matter of minutes online. I’ve been to the US before, Emmie… I know what I need.” He looked at me with a condescending eyebrow as if he knew exactly what I was trying to do – put him off coming. “I’m coming with you. End of story.”
By this point I was too frantic to care. I simply nodded at Chris and returned to gathering my things. Chris disappeared into another room to find the next available tickets and apply for his ESTA. I didn’t know how I was going to explain everything to him and to be honest I didn’t particularly care right now. All I cared about was getting to Dexter… I’d never needed to hold someone so much in my life.
“We leave at three o’clock tomorrow,” Chris announced as I wheeled my small suitcase into the living room.
“That’s too long!”
“Well I’m sorry, Emmie, but that’s the first one they’ve got.” I huffed angrily and when I squeezed my eyes closed in frustration, it forced tears I didn’t even know were hiding to escape.
“Did you sort your ESTA?” Please say no. Please say no. Please say no.
“Turns out the one I’ve got is still valid. Remember that trip to Vegas I took with Ricky?” I nodded, feeling swamped with disappointment. His oldest friend Ricky lives in Scotland so they don’t get to see each other much. They took a holiday to Las Vegas together about eighteen months ago. “Well I got one then and they’re valid for two years.”
“Great,” I lied with a fake smile.
“Well I’m going to pack some stuff. When I get back we’re going to talk. I think you’re keeping things from me, Emmie… and I want to know what.”
Damn.
Nodding my head, I watched him disappear up the stairs. I totted up the time I expected it would take for him to pack and reckoned I had about an hour to conjure up some bullcrap. I noticed the time as I restlessly paced the room. 3 AM. I still had twelve hours before I would be making my way to Dexter and I had no idea how I was going to survive that long.
**********
By the time we reached the airport Chris had given up trying to drag information out of me… for now at least. Every time he broached the subject I would either cry or scream at him and I think he eventually figured it’d be in his best interest to back off if he valued his man bits.
Chris wandered off to browse the duty free shops while I stared out at the planes. I could see the one we were due to board in forty minutes time and when I saw the baggage handlers lazily loading the trolleys full of luggage into the hold, I wanted to yell at them to hurry the hell up.
“Here,” Chris said, startling me from behind. I turned around sharply and he handed me a pre-packed sandwich.
“Thanks,” I muttered dutifully. I couldn’t seem to summon hunger despite not eating since yesterday, but I didn’t want to look ungrateful. Smiling thankfully, I turned back to the window. I nursed the ham and cheese sandwich in my hands for a while as I continued to watch the planes come and go. Every so often I’d switch my focus to the information boards with the wild hope we were departing early.
“You need to eat, Emmie. Come on, just try it,” Chris said, concern oozing from his voice as he nudged my shoulder. Nodding weakly, purely to appease him, I peeled back the cellophane lid and plucked out one half of my sandwich. I ripped off tiny pieces with my fingers and reluctantly popped them in my mouth. Ugh. Why do pre-packed things always taste of cardboard?
I managed to eat half of the disgusting sandwich before giving up and throwing it in the bin. Chris let out a worried sigh, making me feel guilty for not trying harder. After a wait that lasted a lifetime our flight was eventually called and my heart catapulted up into my throat as I jumped from my seat and grabbed my carry-on bag.
I was half way to the boarding gate when I looked back and saw Chris was still sat down, rummaging through his bag.
“Come on!” I mouthed impatiently from across the lounge after waving my hand to get his attention. I knew being on the plane early wouldn’t mean it would take off any sooner but still, I was eager to be settled in my seat. I felt like once my bag was in the overhead locker and my seatbelt was securely fastened, I was officially on my way to Dexter’s side.
Take off was delayed by several minutes thanks some kind of issue on the runway– though it felt like an eternity. By the time we were in the air my fingers were drumming anxiously against the foldout table and my feet were tapping furiously against the floor. I seriously didn’t know how I was going to survive eight hours of this torture.
**********
“Emmie…” Chris was prodding my shoulder in attempt to wake me, even though I wasn’t asleep. “We’re landing i
n five.”
“I know. I heard,” I mumbled, prizing my eyes open.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Shaking my head, I rubbed my weary eyes with my knuckles. I looked at my watch and adjusted it accordingly. It was just gone 6 PM in Ohio and for the first time in my life I prayed. I prayed I would make it in time to see Dexter tonight. I prayed that he would pull through this – get better… move forward. And I prayed with every ounce of strength I had, that he wouldn’t hate me for leaving him.
After leaving the plane I practically ran through security and then pushed my way through baggage claim. The second we had our suitcases I pulled out my phone and called Sarah. When she told me I was classed as close family which meant I could visit at any time of the day or night I drew in what felt like the first breath in twenty four hours. She gave me the address of her new house and suggested I take my bags there first. It was only then I realised I hadn’t told her I wasn’t traveling alone.
Ah, well… she would find out soon enough.
Thankfully Chris remembered we didn’t have any US dollars before we took a taxi to the hospital. So after sailing through customs we exchanged some cash on the way out of the airport and then Chris carried our cases while we rushed outside to find a taxi rank.
I felt sick with nerves as we rode excruciatingly slowly to Saint Anne’s. When we reached our destination I waited outside the sliding glass doors while Chris paid our fare and dragged our cases from the boot.
“You okay?” Chris asked when he joined me outside the doors. I could see in his concerned eyes there was so much more to that question. He was telling me that he was here for me, that he had my back… that he loved me. I nodded slowly, even though I was far from okay.
Walking through the automatic doors I spotted the reception area. Nervously, I ambled over to it with Chris trailing behind me. Then I sucked in a preparing breath and began to talk.
