Unveiling Chaos

by Allison,Jeannine

  He did all this without complaint, even while struggling with his own demons.

  He didn’t deserve it.

  My eyes shifted around the bar before landing on my brother once more. Our gazes locked and I could see every fear of mine reflected in his. He didn’t forget everything, he wasn’t unaffected by the thought of her using again. He felt everything I did, but he was choosing the high road. Derek was choosing her over her past mistakes. But I didn’t know if I could. It felt like too much.

  My brother’s eyes turned sad, yet a little understanding, as he gave me a slow nod and backed away.

  “I’ll come back when you know what you want,” he said, nodding to the menu next to me.

  He left but I was barely paying attention anymore. Maybe my mother did deserve more, but that didn’t really change anything. It didn’t change that I didn’t think I could forgive, forget, and move on. I wasn’t my brother. And knowing that I should forgive her because it was the right thing to do wasn’t enough.

  Because knowing something didn’t guarantee anything. Knowing right from wrong, knowing strength from weakness, knowing anything from anything else didn’t always matter.

  Sometimes, in the end, the only things we knew for certain were our fears. And they were always screaming the loudest.

  I was whistling. That should have been my first clue something was wrong. It definitely was to Ellie.

  “Oh my God. You’re happy,” she said as she sat across from me at the kitchen table. She’d been talking to me more and more, slowly feeling more comfortable and less insecure about her pregnancy.

  I scowled and promptly stopped whistling. “No, I’m not.”

  “Only happy people whistle,” she countered. “Ohmygod, ohmygod. Have you been body swapped?”

  “Why would someone want to swap bodies with me, Ells?” I couldn’t even be surprised by her question—Ellie always said the weirdest damn things.

  “Yeah, you’re right. You’re too boring,” she said with serious contemplation. My sister frowned and slumped back in her chair, seriously put out by the idea that my body hadn’t been invaded.

  “Sorry to disappoint,” I said dryly.

  Her face quickly morphed from disappointment to horror, and I just stopped myself from rolling my eyes. Her sensitivity to my sarcasm was something I’d probably never get used to. It was particularly bad right now since we were still in this weird, tension-filled place where I was certain she was overthinking everything.

  “No, no, no. I didn’t mean it like that. I love who you are and I always want you to be who are. I couldn’t ask for a better brother, I don’t want anyone else for a brother.” She stopped to catch her breath.

  “Done?” I asked. She sheepishly nodded as her cheeks turned pink. “Ellie, I was kidding. I know you love me.”

  “Okay, good, good. I just…”

  I put my pencil down and blew out an exhausted breath. “I know I didn’t take the news of your pregnancy well, and I’m sorry for that. You need support, not condemnation.” She lifted her eyes to mine. “I’m your support. One hundred percent, Ells.”

  Her smile could have powered the entire neighborhood. “Okay.”

  “Okay.” My smile was more reserved as I picked my pencil back up. “So quit walking on eggshells around me,” I finished, more than ready for her to be completely back to normal.

  “Yes, sir,” she sassed as she stood up and gave me a salute. I watched as she picked up my empty dinner plate and brought it to the sink before washing it.

  “So,” I began casually as I started shading once more. “Have you found yourself a group yet?”

  She tensed for a moment before shaking it off and putting the dish on the drying rack. “I don’t think I need to.” Her back was to me as she softly said the words I’d been dreading.

  “Yes, you do. Everyone needs a sponsor. I’m not always going to be around and I have no clue what it feels like to go through something like this.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. Look at me.” My voice was firm as she slowly turned toward me. “You can do this. And like I said, I’m here for you, but you need more than just me.” It fucking killed me to say it, but it was true.

  Her nod was reluctant and quick, but I could see a determination in her eyes I’d never seen before.

  “Can I use your computer?”

  “‘Course.”

  I finished shading in my sketch as Ellie slowly typed away on my laptop. Grabbing my sketchpad and pencils, I moved over to my drawing table in the corner of our common room. I had just set everything up when I noticed Ellie frowning at the computer.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She worried her bottom lip. “There’s just a lot to worry about. A lot that could go wrong.” Ellie rested her hand over her stomach in a protective gesture. Nodding, I stood and walked toward the couch before sitting down next to her.

  “We’ll stay on top of it. Nothing will go wrong.” After she nodded and rested her head against my shoulder, I realized there were so many questions I should have already asked. I needed to be aware of her physical health as much as her emotional and mental health. “How far along are you?”

  “When I went to the clinic last week they said I was about eight weeks along.” She sat up and typed some more. “I think I need to find a regular OB/GYN and start setting up appointments, too. Will you… will you come with me?”

  “Of course. Just tell me when and I’ll be there.”

  “Do you think I should tell Mom and Dad?” she asked a few minutes later. Her voice was so soft I almost didn’t hear it. I tensed at the mention of them. I doubted they’d react well.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ells.”

  “Maybe they’ll be excited. They’ll have a grandkid.” She pulled herself away so she could look at me. “Who hates a baby? I mean, I know they hate me. But he’ll have done nothing wrong. They’ll have to love him.” My sister flexed her fingers against her abdomen.

  “It’s not going to matter,” I said quietly, taking a deep breath, preparing myself for the heartbreak I was about to inflict. It sucked, but I knew it needed to be done. She couldn’t live in this idealized world where our parents would ever want anything to do with us again. They told me as much when I last spoke to them over two years ago.

  “They’re not going to want anything to do with him because he’ll still be yours.” Her face froze before it completely shattered. She nodded a couple of times, trying to keep her composure. “I’m just trying to be honest. I don’t want you to get your hopes up—”

  “I know. You’re right. I just…” Some of her tears fell as she gently closed the laptop and stood. She looked down at me. “I just hate the idea that I’ve already screwed up his life. That he’ll enter this world having no father and no grandparents. I hate the idea that people might not give him a chance because I’m such a screwup.”

  “Ellie, you’re not—”

  “Please don’t,” she whispered. “Just… don’t. I’m gonna go to bed now.” I reluctantly let her go even though it was only eight o’clock and she hadn’t gone to bed before ten since she was seven years old.

  I knew everything I’d said had hurt her, but I also knew I had to keep her as far away from our parents as possible. No good would ever come from her talking to them. Because while most parents encouraged their children and built them up, our parents only seemed to take pleasure in tearing Ellie and me down. I would be the bad guy if it meant Ellie was hurting less.

  Ellie’s mood slowly went up over the next week. Unfortunately her physical symptoms took a bit of a nosedive. Originally she hadn’t been experiencing any of the symptoms associated with pregnancy, a fact which I think strangely upset her. I guess she had wanted the full experience, even if that meant painful cramps, nausea, and all kinds of muscle aches.

  We were just returning from an appointment with her OB/GYN—luckily there had been a cancellation at one of the places she called and she was
able to set up her first appointment within a week—and she was beaming. I had stayed out in the waiting room, but with the way my sister began recounting every single moment of the visit, I felt like I had been in there with her. And even though I was still worried, I couldn’t deny how happy I was to see her so excited. It wasn’t an ideal situation, far from it, but she was making the most of it, like she always did.

  She flung herself on the couch, her huge smile still in place, and closed her eyes. I nudged her knee and she opened her eyes before scooting over and giving me room on our two-sectional couch.

  “Hey, kid.” I gave her a noogie before sitting down. My sister scowled but quickly settled under my arm as I laid it on the back of the couch. “I’m proud of you.” I felt her tense against me but I kept going. “I am. Most people would freak out or consider getting rid of it because that’d be easy. But you’re fighting.”

  “Him,” she annunciated proudly. “And it’s only been a couple weeks.”

  “Hey.” I nudged her head. “You have to start somewhere. And it’s okay to be proud of what you’ve achieved.” She looked like she didn’t believe me, and how could I blame her after what I’d said when I first found out? “You can’t get to a month sober without two weeks, you can’t get to six months without that month, and you can’t get to a year without those six months. All these achievements matter, Ellie. And I’m sorry I haven’t treated it that way in the past.”

  Before I knew what was happening she was in my arms, clutching my neck and thanking me for never giving up on her, and for loving her even when she made it hard. I smiled as I brought my arms around her and held on just as tight. We pulled apart when my phone started ringing, both of us still smiling as she turned on the television and I moved to answer it.

  “Hello?” I said into the phone. The number was blocked, which I typically didn’t answer, but I hadn’t paid attention to that until I had already picked up.

  “Damien Harrington?” a deep voice with a professional tone questioned.

  “Yes?”

  “Sir, this is Officer Grayson Mable. Steve’s brother. How are you doing?”

  I sat back, a little stunned. The silence continued as I thought about how different Steve and his brother were, and I’d only been talking to him for three seconds.

  Clearing my throat, I answered, “I’m good, you?”

  “Very well, sir. Thank you for asking. My brother said you needed help with something.”

  I froze and cut my eyes to Ellie, who was completely oblivious as she started laughing at something on TV. “Yeah,” I said slowly as I got up. She looked at me and I pointed to my bedroom. Ellie nodded, not thinking anything of it. I had just shut my door when I spoke again.

  “I’d rather not discuss it over the phone.”

  “Certainly. When would be convenient for you to meet?” he asked as papers rustled in the background.

  “I could meet you for lunch tomorrow… around one?”

  He paused for only a moment. “That works on my end as well.” After settling a few more details in the same no-nonsense fashion, we hung up. I sat at the end of my bed and ran a hand through my hair, tugging out my hair tie in the process.

  Was I making a mistake by reaching out to Grayson? Ellie had seemed better today, maybe she wouldn’t need any motivation and all this would do was hurt her. Maybe—

  No.

  It wouldn’t hurt to have one meeting. And if there was anything I’d learned in trying to get Ellie sober over the years, it was that staying on the wagon was never a guarantee.

  …

  I walked into the diner the next day and my eyes traveled over a group of giggling schoolgirls, a couple holding hands across the table, and an elderly man reading a paper before they finally settled on an officer in the back corner. His back was ramrod straight as he looked at the papers settled in front of him.

  “Officer Mable?” I asked as I walked up to the table.

  He looked up before standing and extending his hand. “Please, call me Grayson.”

  Nodding, I returned his handshake. “Damien.”

  “Good to meet you.”

  “Same.” We both took a seat and I reached for a menu while he pulled out a pen and small notebook, placing them on the table. I watched as he took a single finger and nudged the notebook until it was straighter and more in line with the pen.

  “You’re not eating?” I asked.

  “I already ordered. Steve didn’t have any details and you were quite cryptic over the phone, so I need to ask. There’s nothing illegal going on here, correct?” I watched his dark brown eyes zone in on me with disapproval.

  “No, she’s sober.”

  His eyebrows rose as my menu lay forgotten. “She?”

  “My sister, Eleanor.”

  Nodding, he opened his notebook and began jotting down information. “How old is she?”

  “Twenty.”

  “And you said she’s sober?” At my nod he asked for how long.

  “I don’t know an exact date, but about two weeks.”

  “I see. What is it you think I can do for you? Or her? I’m just a street officer.”

  “I know. But I also know you want to work in narcotics, and alcohol and drugs typically—”

  “Go hand-in-hand,” he finished.

  Nodding, I said, “Yeah. And I just think having you in my corner might help.” I paused and covered my mouth with my hand, slowly dragging it around my mouth and down my chin before revealing, “She’s pregnant.”

  His eyes widened slightly. “Is this the reason she wants to get sober?”

  “Yes. I mean she’s always wanted it, she’s tried before. But this time she’s serious, she… she wants to be a good mother.” My voice cracked on the last word.

  “It certainly is a good incentive, but her commitment to staying sober is probably higher right now because of the news. It’ll wear off. Addicts—”

  “She’s my sister,” I cut him off. “She’s not just an addict. You can’t lump her in with the people you’ve dealt with.”

  Grayson wore a slightly regretful expression as he steepled his fingers before setting them down on top of his writing. “I meant no offense. But you came to me for a reason. Because on some level, all alcoholics are struggling. I’m not saying this as an insult, just a fact. Addiction is difficult to deal with, and pretending that Eleanor is separate from other addicts will not help her. Yes, I know she’s probably not violent or doing other illegal activities. But there are levels of addiction and we don’t know where she is at this point. So I need you to try and be as objective as possible. And I will try to be as subjective as possible. Deal?”

  I gave him a weary nod. What choice did I have at this point?

  “Good.” He picked his pen back up and adjusted his notebook once more. “Now, who’s her support system? The father? Her parents?”

  I shook my head. “The father was just an indiscretion and our parents aren’t in the picture either. It’s just me.”

  He paused, his pen hovering over the paper. “Only you?”

  “I’m trying to get her into a program as well.”

  “Good. She’ll need other people.” His tone was gentle, controlled when he spoke again. “But I still don’t understand how you think I can help.”

  “I don’t really know either. I just couldn’t sit around and continue to do nothing. Having your number seemed like a practical idea. Like I said, I feel like you’re someone I should have in my corner. Steve was always talking about how dedicated you are to your job and to helping people.”

  Grayson nodded. “I am.”

  “Well she needs help. More help than I can give,” I choked out. “She needs all the help she can get.”

  Apparently I should have started off with that because that was all he needed to hear. Once Grayson heard the words “she needs help” he became as invested as I was, despite the fact that there wasn’t any clear-cut thing for him to do.

  We spent the rest
of lunch with him writing down tips for staying sober and hotline numbers of personal friends who might be able to sponsor Ellie.

  And for the first time since I found out my sister was pregnant, I felt like I could breathe.

  “It wasn’t sexual tension, Sher. It was just pure tension. He’s kind of an asshole,” I said as I changed lanes. But even as I spoke, I couldn’t help the smile that crept up my cheeks.

  “So why are we heading back to the club right now? Only a week later?” I could practically hear the smirk in her voice.

  “Because it was awesome and you should have been there.” Alara and I hadn’t seen much of Sherry lately. She claimed she was busy with school, but we were in our last semester and she had purposefully saved a lot of the easy, bullshit courses for last. We couldn’t deny she seemed stressed and distracted, we just didn’t know the real reason behind it. She’d always been a very private person, ever since we met her freshman year of college.

  I kept my stare trained on the road but I could feel Sherry’s eyes on me the entire time. I let it go for about a minute before I barked, “What?”

  “You miss sex,” she stated bluntly.

  “It’s only been a couple months, I’ve been without sex longer than that.” It wasn’t a lie… but damn it, I really did miss it.

  “Yeah, but there wasn’t this indeterminable amount of time before you’d get some again. It may be a couple months right now, but you have no way of knowing how long that will last. It could be three months… or six months… or a year… or—”

  “Okay, I get it,” I snapped. A shudder went through me at the thought of not having sex for an entire year. Sherry suddenly snapped her fingers before shifting in her seat.

  “It’s like being in a desert and you see no sign of water for miles and miles. Then, suddenly, you see a glass of water.” I laughed as she let out an overdone gasp and continued her dramatic monologue. “You weep in relief. And there’s really only one thing you can do. Only one smart thing to do. You’re gonna drink that shit up real quick, especially since you can’t see any other water in sight.”