Chapter 8: LA

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The next few days, all felt slightly off between Harry and I. He had a woman over every night, and our days off were spent separately for the most part. We would have our coffee in the morning and read together always, but the silence didn't feel comfortable anymore. It felt tense. Like one of us was waiting for the other to say something.

I was walking towards the loft with James, hand in hand. Harry had flown back to LA for the day and I had the loft to myself, so I invited him over.

"I don't know how you have never watched the Breakfast Club, James. It's literally an iconic movie." I looked over at him and he laughed.

"I don't like 80s movie I told you."

"But it's a cult classic! Like how?" We both laughed.

We made our way up to the loft and as we walked in my phone started ringing. It was my dad. I swallowed hard and pressed ignore.

"Do you want a beer?" I asked James.

"Sure, that sounds good." I smiled.

My phone rang again, as I was pulling out the beers and I took a deep breath as I saw my dads name again.

"James, I have to get this. It's my dad."  He walked over and kissed my shoulder softly.

"That's fine, I'll just wait here." I smiled at him and leaned up and gave him a soft kiss.

It felt good to be at this step with him, and it helped that he was an amazing kisser. Not that I had much experience anyways, but it felt amazing.

The call from my dad ended as quickly as it took for him to call me back. I slid my finger across the screen and answered the phone.

"Hey daddy, what's going on?"

"I think I messed up. I think. No, I know. I messed up." He said, his voice panicky.

"Dad. What did you do?"

"I was counting my pills, and I missed one, so I took two. And then I counted again, and I was still wrong. I took another one. I don't think I was supposed to."

"Dad, why? Which bottle?" I said putting him on speaker and opening up my notes.

"Yellow." My eyes widened, knowing it was the Xanax, "Dad. I'm going to call Max. Don't do anything, leave the bottle alone. I'm serious dad."

I hung up quickly, tears forming in my eyes, I called Max and his wife but no one answered. I texted both then began pacing around the kitchen.

"Sweetie, everything okay?" James said, placing his hands on my waist.

I shook my head, "No, my dad, he took three of his Xanax pills on accident. And I don't...can I call 911 from here?"

"Hey, hey, hey, slow down. How does one take three on accident?"

My eyes widened, "That's what you are choosing to concentrate on?" I snapped at him.

I pulled away and opened up my phone about to dial 911 when I saw Harry's name. His LA house was only a quick drive from mine. I called him. Again. And Again. And again, until he finally answered.

He finally answered, he sounded out of breath and I felt so stupid calling him, I just stayed quiet on the line, "Hello? Christy? Christy I can hear your breathing what's going on?"

"My dad, I need..." I took a deep breath, I was crying now, "Can you please go check on my dad. Right now. Like you can't wait a minute. Please. He took one too many Xanax, please."

"Okay, okay, I'm moving. I'm going." He said and I heard him shuffling around, quietly telling someone they needed to go.

"There is a key in the third planter outside the door. Just tell him I sent you, please call the ambulance if you need too. He needs to throw up. You have to make him throw up." I was crying hard.

"Hey, hey, I'm going to call the ambulance regardless okay? I'm going to call them, don't hang up okay? Text me the address while I call." I heard him grabbing his keys and running before the line went momentarily silent. I quickly text him the address. James just stood in the kitchen, leaning on the counter as I paced around.

"Okay, I called, they are on their way too, okay? What's your dads name?"

"Bobby." I said quietly.

"Okay. Bobby. He's going to be okay, alright?"

"Mmm." I said through my tears.

"No Christy, say it, he's going to be alright." He said softly.

"He will." Was all I could manage, swallowing back my tears.

He was alright. Harry got there just before the paramedics did, and when he got there my dad was already making himself throw up. They still took him and kept him overnight, Harry staying with him until our neighbor took over.

The next day, Harry got in a couple minutes before we had to leave to MSG. He walked through the door and I put my Kindle down, sitting up on the couch.

We held each other's gaze and I couldn't help it when I pushed myself up running over to him and hugging him. He thankfully hugged me back just as tightly.

"Thank you, Harry. I can't thank you enough." We broke apart and he smiled small.

"It wasn't a problem, at all," he took a deep breath, "I'm sorry I've been distant. I took your comment the other night personal, and I shouldn't have, you are right, not everyone sleeps around like I do."

"No, Harry, I shouldn't have said that. I crossed a line. I'm sorry." I bit my lip.

"We still got a whole US tour to get through, we gotta keep it together." He smiled playfully and I nodded.

"Agreed." I smiled small.

"And hopefully James will lend me one of your last days off so we can cross some last things off your list." He said scratching the back of his head.

"Uh, I decided James and I are just better as friends. So, I'm free." I shrugged and he laughed a bit.

"Okay. Good to know." He smiled, a little to big for my liking, "So um, can you explain about your dad? What happened?"

I took a deep breath, "He has OCD, amongst, other things. He was in an accident at work, when I was younger. Hit his head pretty bad, and just was never the same since. One of his things is counting his pills. I have to keep track of how many is in each bottle, because if he miscounts I have to assure him that there is a certain amount. If not he keeps taking them, thinking it's going to fix the situation. Sometimes he catches on, other times he keeps taking them. It's not the first time. I, I can't afford, at home care, so my neighbors, they are both nurses, they help. I send them whatever money I have, but it's just hard. Especially when I was in London, but I need to make the kinda money I'm making right now, to keep up with all his medical expenses. It's just a lot."

He nodded and wrapped his arms around me again, hugging me tightly, "I'm sorry. I won't ask about your family, because I know you don't want to talk about it. But I'm sorry."

I just nodded softly in his arms, hugging him back.

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