Aftertaste [COMPLETED]

Chapter 12 :: Crumble

BERLIN'S P.O.V.

**

AFTER WE RETURNED FROM festival, I took the upcoming weekend to recuperate. I wrote up our weekly report for Gerry after going to pick him up from Logan's mother, who had been burdened with the position of caretaker for not only Gerry, but for Lindon as well.

Lindon was the name of the baby that Logan shared with Lindsay. They bickered incessantly over possible names, so they chose to use the same method that Rory and I had used, the "hybrid method," hence the name Lindon - which I never really cared for because I felt it was too similar to the name London which was too similar to my name as well because they were both major cities.

When I knocked on the door of the Ward's home, my entire body was buzzing with exhaustion. And even though Lydia answered with her usual cheeriness, I could see that she was tired as well, but I believed that her distress was mental.

It was obvious that there was something heavy on her mind. Truthfully, it appeared that just about everyone I knew was facing some sort of existential dilemma at that point in time.

But it's to be expected...after all, it is the holidays.

"Hola, hija. I'm guessing you hear for Gary?" I smiled at her mild blunder. "It's Gerry, actually, but eh, same thing."

"Oohh, I'm sorry. Gerry, is right in the kitchen at the centre island with Logan and his other baby doll." I grinned, giving a small giggle before Lydia ushered me in toward the kitchen area.

"Oh, my." My gaze wandered after Lydia's and I could see what had her so taken aback. "Logan, mijo, do you think you should he drinking in front of the dolls?"

Logan gave his mother a very annoyed look and said, "Mum, please, their just plastic. As long as I don't sit them on top of the stove, eer, I don't know, put them in the microwave, we're good."

Overwhelmed by disappointment, Mrs. Ward walked away, leaving me alone with Logan.

"What are you drinking?," I asked softly, taking the stool nearest him.

"Julep."

I frowned. "Yore kidding me. This isn't a bar." He gestured to the ingredients needed to concoct his drink scattered all over the island. "It is now."

I let out a little sigh and gave a little shake of the head before asking him if he'd sobered up at all since we'd gotten back.

He hadn't.

I gripped his arm lightly to be sure I had his attention. "Logan, you can't keep going on like this. Alcoholism is no small thing, and you may think you're in control but you're wrong. This addiction could swallow you whole if you're not careful. And it's better to realise that now than to be hit with the hard truth later and have no way to reverse the damage you've done both physically and emotionally."

He looked at me with that ambiguous expression he wore so well, so I was not sure if he had absorbed what I'd said or if the liquor had already impaired his ability to comprehend.

But then he opened his mouth a little and cocked his head to the side. He didn't speak, and he was clearly frustrated but I was elated. He had heard me, whether or not he liked what I had said, he knew that I'd said it.

He gave a small grunt before shrugging and picking up his half empty glass. He swirled it round and round and watched the way the kitchen lights danced against the liquid and the tumbler itself.

I rested a hand on top of his shoulder and looked at him for a long moment hoping he'd meet my gaze. He didn't.

But even so, I didn't let it stop me from saying what I felt I needed to. Still looking at him, I said, "I'm sorry." I saw him pull a face. "Why?" I released a deep sigh and thought about it for a second or too, I didn't really know why I was sorry, I guess I just felt like I had to be, or should be.