Standing By

Passed Out

(Austin)

I knew it was wrong of me—so wrong, got to stop thinking like that!—but I couldn't help but feel proud of Tim when he finally started dishing it back and was standing up for himself to that evil bitch that he called a wife.  That's right, dude, put her in her place!  It sounded like she was really worked up and just kept spewing hateful words at him.  I could just hear her a little over the phone that was pressed to his ear—not enough to make out the words, just indiscernible sound.  I might be not be married but I sure as hell knew nothing was going particularly well.  I reckon she didn't take too kindly to him making a stand.  Tim's dark eyes were spilling over copiously, streaming down his face unabashedly as he gazed at the four of us silently.

    I couldn't stand to see him crying like that.  Ninety-five percent of the time I'd known him, there'd been a smile on his face, a twinkle in his eye, a joke on his lips.  I reached for the tissues Avi had placed in his lap and pulled one out for him; his hands already occupied, one holding his phone to his ear, the other grabbing Rob's hand so tightly his fingers were turning white.  I knew his grip had to be hurting him, but he wasn't saying a word, not betraying a hint of pain. I pressed the tissue to his cheek, silently mopping up his face, trying to return him, to fix him, to the Tim I knew and loved.  Getting one side cleaned up, I moved to the other side only to have the first eye send another river down the opposite cheek.  It was a losing battle.  I found a dry spot on the tissue and wrapped it around my finger, pressing it to the corners of each eye.

    "Then, I'm sorry, Jenika, but it'll never work between us," he whispered, his voice cracking under the stress and emotions that were overcoming him.

    I twirled the tissue in my hand, trying to find a workable area, but the whole thing was wadded up and wetter than a fish in a lake.  Reaching for the tissue box in Tim's lap, I only managed to knock it to the floor.  Damn it. 

    "Gimme another, Avi!" I whispered frantically as it bounced at our feet.  "This one's done soaked through!"

    Avi leaned over and picked up the box, holding it out to me. I grabbed one then took a couple more for good measure.

    Tim started to hiccup and I let out a small smile, knowing his hatred of the hiccups.  I turned to his left eye, then his right, alternating between the two just trying to clean up after him and stem the flow as it came, seemingly harder with each word he spoke.  He started to lean forward, hair falling in his face and sticking to his cheeks.  I scratched a few strands off his face with a fingernail, pulling it away so I could keep mopping him up piece by piece.

    Mitch and Scott positioned themselves behind him, asking Carrie—Carrie Underwood, for God's sake—for a hair tie.  She nodded and darted off to the bathroom for one.  They both started finger-combing his hair back and patting on his head gently.  Mitch even gave the very top of his head a quick kiss.  The support all five of them were giving Tim was incredibly touching.  I nodded at Scott and Mitch gratefully, and Scott gave me a small sad smile in return.

Carrie came back with a black elastic and the two of them pulled Tim's hair back into a neat little bun, a la Avi.

    I tossed a used-up at a nearby trash can, missing by a mile. Avi leaved over and picked it up, carrying it to its proper receptacle.  Wrinkling my own nose, I pushed the new tissue to Tim's, trying to control the snot rockets.  So gross.  But somebody had to do it.  I immediately discarded that tissue, Kevin pulling the trash can right next to the bed.  That made that easier at least.

    Tim hiccuped again, right about at the same time a sob surfaced, making him start to gag.  Chance and Adam gave his back a few strong pats to help clear things out.  It sounded like one of them did the trick and I pushed a new tissue to his mouth, praying he'd take it from here.  I don't do spit very well.

    Luckily, he did, finally letting go of Rob's hand.  Rob flexed his fingers a few times to make sure they still worked.  Tim really started letting her have it after that, starting to yell and even using that pissed-off voice he has. I tell ya, he can pack a punch with that vocal fry of his.  He used it once—once—with me early in our friendship and I practically pissed my pants 'cause I'd never heard it before and it had sounded like something out of an exorcism.  I sure as hell could never make that sound.  When I get pissed off, I just get shrill and Georgia boy here really starts drawling and twanging.  Not nearly as effective as a Texas bass growl.

    Tim pulled the phone off his ear, ordering her to do something, and started to hang up on her, her voice still shouting at him the whole way. 

    "Tim!  I'm pregnant!" she yelled over the phone just as he clicked it off.

    I startled.  Whoa.  Jenika, pregnant.  Tim, a dad-to-be.  Tim did more than startle.  He literally froze in place, his eyes staring straight ahead, not even blinking, a completely terrified look on his face.  His mouth opened only to close a second later, a word unspoken.

    Rob put his hand on his back.  "Tim.  It's OK.  Breathe.  Come on now, breathe."

    "Blink!" Adam yelled.  I reckon his wide-eyed stare was weirding him out too.  "Blink!"

    When he still didn't blink, I reached out with both hands, placing a fingertip gently on each eyelid, and blinking his eyes for him, twice, in quick succession.

    "He don't look good at all," Chance observed, watching him closely; only a second later, Tim started to slump over.  Mitch and Scott, still behind him, lunged forward to catch him before he fell off the bed.

    "He's totally passed out!" Kevin shouted as Tim fainted, tumbling face-first off the bed and taking Avi with him.

    "Oww!"Avi yelped, wincing as he hit his sore knee on the floor.

    "I saw his eyes roll back in his head!" Kevin added, making my heart pound. He knelt down next to him, feeling for broken limbs.  "Tim.  Tim."

    "OK, now we need an ambulance," Chance decided.

    "He's just fainted, give him a minute," Mitch said, flopping on his belly on the bed to look at him.

    "Tim, wake up," I whispered as Kevin pulled him over on his side.

    "Somebody get me a wet washcloth," he requested.

    "He's had the shock of his life," Rob pointed out.

    "I didn't hear," Scott complained, laying down next to Mitch and starting to rub on his back.  "What kind of shock?  What'd she say?"

    "I didn't hear either," Mitch admitted, rubbing on his head.  "While you're back there, wanna scratch under my left shoulder blade?"

    "She said she's pregnant," I told them.  "Tim didn't want kids right away.  If at all."

    "Well... whether he wanted them now or later, apparently it's gonna be sooner," Avi remarked, slowly pulling himself to his feet.

    Carrie jogged back with a giant wet red thing of some sort that looked like some kind of sea creature.  "Don't got any washcloths right now.  Here's this."

    Kevin took it apprehensively.  "What in the world is this thing?"

    "Looks like something you'd find on the bottom of the ocean," I remarked as Chance frowned at it with me.

    Kirstie started cackling.  "It's called a bath poof.  You use it to wash when you take a shower."

    " 's wrong with a freaking washcloth?" Chance demanded.

    Tim started stirring from the floor, batting at water droplets as the poosh or poot or whatever the hell it was dripped on him.

    "Ugggh, what the hell?" he was muttering.

    "Slow now," Kevin warned him.  "You just passed out."

    "I did?" Tim asked uncertainly.