I had reached a conclusion. I wanted to get drunk. After I came home from Deborah's, I picked Brad up. I told him I wanted a drink. I thought that drinking would help me numb the fear. At least, I hear that alcohol numbs a lot of things. Brad drove me to town, seeing as I was far too emotional, to the liquor store. I sent Brad in to buy my case of coolers as I sat in the van. I could feel that my face was swollen, but, I tried to ignore it. I stared out my window to try to distract myself. I was still sniffling from earlier. I let my mind to go numb. I didn't know what I was going to do.
Brad came out with my case and a six-pack of beer for himself. We drove home in silence.
Brad backed into the driveway and brought the drinks into the house. I sighed and continued to stare out my window. I couldn't bring myself to going inside, again. The house was empty, quiet, it was no longer a home. It was a shell.
I took out my phone and dialled. I didn't realize that so much time had passed, it was shortly after five in the afternoon. But, that wasn't the problem. The problem was, when did I lose track of the time?
"Hi." Mom answered.
"Hi." I said. I was lonely and depressed. I didn't know why I called.
"What you doing?" Mom asked. I was glad she said something. I wouldn't have.
"Nothing." I sighed.
"Oh."
There was silence on the phone. The van door flung open.
"Are you coming in?" Brad asked.
"No. I'm going to sit out here and get drunk." I pouted.
"Oh. You want me to get you a cooler?"
"I guess that would help with the getting drunk part."
Brad smiled and closed my door.
"What are you doing?" Mom asked. I had forgotten I was on the phone with her.
"Oh, I'm going to sit in the van and get drunk."
"Ok. I'll be right over." Mom hung up.
I thought it was strange she would come over after I said that. I thought that maybe she would want to drink too. I didn't know what to do with myself. I didn't want to sit in the van. I, sure as hell, didn't want to go in the house.
Brad came out with one of my coolers, he had opened it for me. I took a small drink and put it on the dash, in front of me.
"How you doing?" Brad asked.
"I don't know." I answered. "I feel nothing, but, I feel everything." I looked down at the floor of the van.
"We'll get them back. We just have to trust they'll be okay until then."
"They won't be. I know what Deborah will be saying to them. They're not going to be okay over there." I took another drink of my cooler.
"Well, then we'll have to work hard to bring them home. What did Nicole want us to do?"
"I don't know, right now." I groaned. "It's on that paper I showed you. What did you do with it?"
"I gave it back to you."
"No, you didn't. I watched you put it in your pocket. Where did you put it from there?" I took another drink.
Brad pulled out a can of beer and cracked it open. "Oh, ya." He chuckled. "It's still be in my pocket then. How's your mom doing?" He took a drink.
"I don't know." I shrugged. "She didn't seem too impressed. I told her I was getting drunk in the van and she said she was coming over."
Brad laughed. He took another drink. "Ya? Little Gramma going to get drunk, too?" He laughed again.
