A Drop in the Ocean

Chapter 17

It was around 5:00 when I finally came left the cemetery.  My face was puffy, and my body was tired from the sobs.  I was still shivering from the cold, but I didn't care.  I went to Brian's house, knowing that he was not going to be there.  As soon as I stepped through the door, I went straight to the liquor cabinet and got out the bottle of Jack Daniel's.  I grabbed a glass from the cupboard and tossed a few ice cubes in it before pouring the whole glass.  I took a drink, and the liquid burned while going down my throat.  Before I couldn't bear it, the burning turned to a warmth, and I sighed with comfort.  I went into the living room, shed my coat and shoes, plopped down on the couch, and set the bottle on the coffee table. 

I continued drinking for hours.  I began to feel the effects of the alcohol on about hour four, and I stopped giving a fuck about anything by hour six.  I'd finished the bottle of Jack and just sat, staring down at the glass in my hand.  It was the first time I drank while on medication, and I was surprised that things weren't a whole lot worse.  Well, I would've been surprised if I could feel anything.  My body felt numb, and my emotions were compromised.

Before I knew it, Brian walked into the living room.  I slowly glanced up at him and then the clock realizing that it was 3:00 AM.  I had yet to fall asleep.  I looked back at Brian who had a disappointed look on his face.

"This isn't healthy, Jordan," he sighed.  I grunted at him.  

"I don't really care," I retorted.

"Well, you should," he said, his voice going up in volume.  I wasn't in the mood for this.

"I don't really care about anything right now, so fuck off," I snapped before standing up.  A burst of dizziness rolled through my body, and I set my hand on the arm of the chair to steady myself.  

"I'm so sick of you feeling sorry for yourself," he said.  I rolled my eyes.

"I'm sick of you telling me how to live my life.  If I want to drink an entire bottle of Jack Daniel's, than I fucking will and no one can stop me," I snarled, grabbing the bottle from the table and tossing it in the trash can.  I walked in the direction of the spare bedroom.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" he shouted.  I spun around on my heels with a look of absolute rage.  Alcohol brought out the worst in me.

"To bed.  I'm fucking tired.  I've got jet lag.  Sydney is a long fucking ways away," I snarled at him and turned back without waiting for a response, going into the room and slamming the door.

******

I woke up with a raging headache.  I slowly blinked open my eyes, burning my corneas with the sun.  I noticed Brian come in and shut the blinds, then head back out of the room without saying a word.  I slowly sat up and noticed that the sheets were all discombobulated.  Brian came back in with a bowl full of something, a glass of a clearish blue liquid, and a bottle of Advil.

"What's all that for?" I croaked out.  He handed me the bowl, which contained Fruity Pebbles, then set the Advil and glass on the night stand next to my antidepressants that he must've gotten from my backpack.

"Your hangover," he replied flatly.  He sat on the edge of my bed as I began to tackle the bowl of cereal.  

"What's in the glass?" I asked through a mouthful of Fruity Pebbles, pointing my spoon at the cup on the nightstand.

"Gatorade," he told me.  I grimaced.  I never really liked the stuff.  He noticed it and chuckled.  "Deal with it, Bright Eyes.  It's a concoction that seems to work.  Oh, and we are going to pick up Grams in a couple hours to head off to the airport.  Eat, rest, and then get ready to go.  Alright?" I nodded.  He patted my leg and stood up, walking out of the room to do something.

 I looked over at my clock that read 10:36.  I wrinkled my nose in disgust.  I continued to eat the cereal before chugging the Gatorade quickly and taking the Advil.  I slowly made my way to the shower after grabbing my soap and things from my suitcase. The shower was short and to the point, and then I got dressed and packed up the rest of my things.  I slowly rolled my suitcase out to the front door and set my backpack on top of it before looking for Brian, who was in the kitchen.  I sat at the breakfast bar while he made himself a grilled cheese sandwich.  We sat in silence for a while before I spoke.

"I'm sorry about last night," I apologized.  He didn't look up from his work as he answered.

"It's fine.  It happens," he replied flatly.

"No, it's not fine.  It doesn't just happen.  I don't know what I was thinking.  I just-"  Before I could continue, Brian came around and hugged me.  I hugged him tightly, and he kissed my head.  

"Don't try to apologize.  It's been hard on everyone.  If anything, I should be sorry for the things I said," he told me.  I just sighed.

"Our family is a mess, isn't it?" I asked.  He shook his head.

"No, we're just trying to figure out what to do now.  That takes time and practice before you get it right," he told me and threw his grilled cheese on a plate before turning off the burner.

******

After he finished his sandwich, we sat around aimlessly for a few hours before hopping in the car to pick up Grams.  I hadn't seen her for a while, so I was really excited.  We pulled up to the front door, and hopped through the door.

"Hello Grams!" I cried out.  She shuffled around the corner in a denim shirt and black pants.  She had on her shoes, some sort of Mary Jane style shoe.  She instantly opened her arms and pulled me into a hug.  I laughed with glee.  I noticed her suitcase sitting by the door.  We were going to be going to Albany and flying to Denver where we'd drive for an hour and a half to Vail.  I helped Grams with her suitcase, and we piled in Brian's Subaru.  

After arriving at the airport, we sat in the three seats in the row, and I instantly fell asleep, waking only when Grams shook me awake, telling me that we were in Denver.