“But you were being so strong for me while I was sick. It seemed like too much. As time went on, things got better for both of us, we thought. We hoped that maybe there wasn’t a problem anymore,” my mom says, her voice returning to normal.
“Everything has been going so well. We were selfish to revel in the normalcy of life,” my dad says.
“When you told us yesterday that you were marrying Jenna, we knew we had to say something. We were just trying to figure out the best way,” my mom adds.
I let out a deep breath and hold my head. I know that they didn’t have cruel intentions. I know that all of this time they’ve had to have been going through hell, too. I sit down on my bed, and rest my head in my hands.
“What do I do? Where do I go from here?” I ask the people who helped me make every major decision in my life. My mom lets out a deep sigh.
“Th—there’s something else we have to tell you, son,” my mom says reluctantly.
“You need another one of these.” Lisa pours another shot of Tequila in my glass, and I down it before finishing the rest of my story. The room hasn’t started spinning yet, but my head is.
“Right when I thought things couldn't get any worse, they tell me not only did this jerk-off marry someone, but he got her pregnant too, which makes me the father.” I laugh, staring at the empty glass. I don’t usually drink much, but before telling her this story, I told her to pull out the bottle first. Her eyes are wider than they’ve been since I started the story of my life over the past twenty-four hours.
“Whoa, I was going to say this was your last shot, but I think whiskey is in order.” She disappears behind the bar. She replaces my empty glass with the brown liquid from her bottle; it’s the kind my dad pulls out on special occasions. I lift my glass feeling a wide, goofy smile on my face.
“To me being a father!” I say sarcastically, and she bursts into laughter.
“You are the father!” she says with fake enthusiasm. We laugh, clinking our glasses together. The good thing about alcohol is everything that sucks in your life seems hilarious. The sting of the whiskey burns five times worse than the Tequila. I usually only have a beer or two. But tonight, each drink causes each problem I picked up today to disappear.
“I wish I could have been there to see the look on Jenna’s face when your wife showed up,” she says with a giggle. I shake my head. I wish they got along better, since Lisa is my best friend and all, but that’s the least of my problems now.
“She’s not my wife, I think?” I defend myself.
“Technically you and this Cal guy are the same person,” she whispers as if she’s telling me a secret. “So that makes her your wife.” She slaps me on the shoulder. I frown at her. “The good thing, though, is tomorrow you’re going to be way too hungover to care about any of this.” She cackles, and suddenly my body feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. I was sitting upright on the couch but now I’m either lying down or the room has turned sideways.
“What about after tomorrow?” I hear myself starting to slur.
“Ask sober Lisa, drunk Lisa is going to bed,” she giggles as she shifts off the couch. She makes her way to turn off the light before she stumbles to her room. I turn myself on my back and watch the ceiling fan turn. It’s spinning so fast, I could have sworn it was brown, but now it’s black. I look around, and I’m not on Lisa’s couch anymore, but in this huge bed with black sheets. It’s daylight, and sun is shining in on my face. I stretch my arms outward and feel warm skin. I look down and see my hand on a thigh that’s barely covered with the sheet. My eyes trail up the body, and I freeze when I see the girl’s face from earlier. Her eyes are still closed, but her pink, plump lips curve into a seductive smile.
“Stay with me,” she purrs in my ear, her hand trailing up my naked leg. Oh shit! I try to move, but I’m stuck. Her eyes are still closed, but now she’s climbed on top of me. I’ll make it worth your while,” she continues. She smells so good, and she’s starting to kiss my neck as her hand grabs my...
“Christopher, get up!” My eyes open, and my dad is standing next to the sofa, where I vaguely remember falling asleep. Was I just dreaming? It seemed more real than any dream I’ve ever had. I can still feel her lips on me, the smell of her hair, how warm her skin was. I start to sit up but I can’t. Gravity wants my head right here on the sofa. Ugh, my stomach feels like I’m on a roller coaster.
“You think getting drunk is going to solve your problems?” My dad’s voice is loud, and feels like a hammer to my head. He puts his arm around me, pulling my weight up so I’m now in a sitting position
“Where am I?” I ask, unsure. I honestly have no idea until I recognize that ugly blanket Lisa made in high school, and realize I’m still at her house
“Ugh, my head,” I groan. My dad forces a cup of coffee into my hand.
“This, what you’re doing, is not going to be your answer,” my dad says gruffly. I lift the cup to my mouth, but before I can even drink it, the smell makes my stomach churn, and I set it down.
“We’re in a bad situation. Yes. Is it the end of the world? No. But if you become a self-pitying drunk, it will be,” he says sharply, “and whether we like it or not, you’re a father now, so we’re going to have to figure this thing out with this woman. Sooner rather than later.”
He can’t seriously think I’m in any condition to talk to him about the state of, or plan for my life now.
“I just want to sleep,” I mumble, putting the coffee down on the floor, and I lie back down on the couch.
“I’m not sure what your plan is, but if you’re still engaged to Jenna, or plan on being, I suggest you get up and come home. I’m sure she won’t be happy that you’re here, of all places, and you probably haven’t called her since I found your phone in the dirt in our yard,” he warns.
Jenna. Her name makes me sit up.
I’ve told her a thousand times, Lisa and I are just friends, and have been since kindergarten, but she says as long as she has breasts and a vagina, she’ll never trust her.
It takes a minute, but with my dad’s help, I make it out of Lisa’s house, into the truck, and back home to my bed. I ignored the disapproving lecture he gave me all the way home. I think I deserved a night like last night, after all I’ve gone through.
My mom must’ve agreed, since she cleaned my room and tucked me in like I was twelve, then brought me ibuprofen after I managed to hold down a piece of toast. My bed is much better than Lisa’s couch
I wake up, still in my room, but the sky’s dark. The birds are already making noise so it must be early morning. I sit up and see that the clock on my desk says that its 5:11 a.m. I must have slept straight through yesterday. I feel a lot better. My empty stomach is growling, and the smell of bacon coming from down stairs has coaxed me out of my sleep. The splitting pain in my head has been replace by a dull ache.
I pick out a T-shirt, jeans, and boxers, and make my way to the shower to wash the stink of vomit and whiskey off me.
I haven’t talked to Jenna at all. I told her I’d call her after I talked to my parents, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I don’t know what to tell her. I don’t know where we go from here.