The next six months can’t go by fast enough. Especially knowing that I get to get a house and then we’ll get married and have babies. And a dog.” I add the last bit in because he really wants a dog and I want to give him whatever I can to make him happy.
“Do you know how much I fuckin’ love you, Meara?”
“I think I have an idea,” I tease.
“You better not have any doubt about it.” The tone of his voice is sharp, and I place my hands on his chest.
“I know you love me.”
“Good. Now kiss me again so I can go finish this shit up and get back to you.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
Liam
“Son, I didn’t expect to see you.”
“Wasn’t a planned trip, Pops. Gotta be to the airport in an hour.” What the hell am I doing here? I’m better than this; I know I am.
He widens the door and I step in and cringe. Nothing’s changed. Empty bottles litter the floor and table, and overflowing ashtrays are stacked on top of the garbage. The stale smell of weed, cigarettes, and old food filters throughout the house. My dad stands next to me and I glance at him over my shoulder. I get my height from him. I wish that was all, but unfortunately, I got something else.
“I need it,” I say shamefully and clear off a spot on the old mustard colored couch. As I sit down, I sink in the cushions a little, then take my hat off, and rest it on my knee.
“Liam, don’t ask me—”
“Just one. Please.”
“How long you been clean for?” He walks over to the kitchen and reaches inside a shelf.
“Hard stuff? Three years.” After what happened the last time I haven’t touched anything other than alcohol, I did a round of rehab and quit the drugs. Those were definitely some of the worst weeks of my life, but Meara said she’d leave me if I ever did them again. I’ve kept my word to her since then.
It’s been so long, but with everything going on, all the damn stress, I need a little something. Just this once to tide me over since I have to go back to hell for the next six months. My logical side is telling me to walk the fuck away, but the irrational part of me says just once to have a fucking moment where I can breathe again. Just once.
My dad comes back with an old cigar box and kneels down on the ground in front of me. Before he opens it, he clears his throat. “You sure you wanna do this? You can walk out of here, Lee. Give yourself a better life than what I have, be a better man than I’ve become.”
I don’t hesitate. “I’m sure.”
He opens the box and takes out a square mirror, razor blade, and small white rock. I bite my lip as he crushes it, and I take a stack of bills out of my wallet. Once I roll up a dollar bill, I hand it to him, but he just shakes his head and pushes the mirror toward me.
The first hit burns my nostrils. I suck in a breath and blink rapidly while shaking my head. Clarity starts to swarm through my foggy brain, and I lean back on the couch while I wait for my dad. He does two in a row and hands it back to me. I suck up the last white line and am immediately ashamed of myself. What I’ve become. How fucking weak I am. That this makes the first and the only promise I’ve ever broken to Meara.
“I’d give you some for the road but—”
“I’m good. Thanks.” Already guilty, I shake my head. A few minutes of silence pass before I stand and we pat each other on the back. Great bonding moment. I pull away and point to the stack of bills on the table. “Use it, and let me know if you need more. Take care of yourself, Pops.”
“How’s that girl of yours?” he asks right as I’m at the door.
Without looking back at him, I answer, “She’s perfect.”
“Don’t make my mistakes, Liam.”
I nod and walk out the door, his words adding to the inner turmoil already weighing me down.
* * *
“Hey, man. Good flight?” Jamie asks as I step onto the bus.
“Sure. It was fine.” I walk past him, but he grabs my arm then uses both hands to grip the