Thin Air (Complete EDITING)

3-Brandon

3 Brandon June 28, 2002

I pop another Starburst in my mouth, then lean across the counter of the Gas'n'Go, extending one to the cashier. "Are you sure you don't want one? It's yellow," I tempt her.

"Yeah, I guess. Thanks. I don't know why the yellow ones get so much hate. Lemon is the superior flavor." She picks at the waxy paper and raises a thin, dark eyebrow. "Don't you have somewhere more exciting to be than keeping an old married lady company while she works?"

I let out a dry huff. "No, and twenty-one isn't old, Erin. Plus, someone has to keep an eye on you. You know, make sure the riff-raff coming in and out doesn't bother you too much."

"Hey, I can handle myself!" She places a hand on her chest in fake offense.

"Ah, yes. I'm sure all five-foot-one of you could easily take a normal-sized human down."

"I am a normal-sized human. Not everyone is built like the Space Needle, Brandon." She scolds, trying and failing, to sound peeved. "You're not going to any of the graduation parties? I swear, I've seen more fake IDs in the last five hours than the whole time I've worked here. There have to be a ton of them tonight."

"Ah, yes. Clearly, I'm down to get down." I tell her, gesturing to the ratty spitfire hoodie that is more comfort blanket than fashion statement. "Nah, parties aren't my thing. I prefer to hear the person I'm talking to rather than being yelled at while Ja Rule mumbles over some chick."

She takes in my laid back apparel and snorts. "He's the worst. That voice sounds like he started smoking straight from the womb."

"Yeah, it does."

We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the only sound is the back of my DC's tapping out a beat on the cabinet below me to whatever top 40 song plays through the speakers overhead. "How did you celebrate your graduation?"

"Well," she laughs. "I was like a million months pregnant and wasn't up for being judged by drunk teenagers. So, I didn't do much of anything. The weekend after graduation, Seth and I got married in my grandparent's garden." Her face lights up when she talks about her family and for the first time in a long time, it makes me optimistic about what the future might hold for me.

"I think I knew that. I was only a freshman when you graduated, but I remember Shannon and her girlfriends talking about it. How's Seth recovering from that last surgery?"

Her smile slips a little, and stress lines form between her eyebrows. "Better every day. He can get around without his walker in the house now, but he still can't take care of Sydney on his own." She takes a deep breath. "I can't afford to pay a sitter all the time and keep up on the bills. So, my parents keep Syd when I work during the week, then a couple of high school girls watch her on the weekends. He's really frustrated about it, but I don't think he'll ever get back into construction."

"Yeah, I bet that is frustrating. It's got to be hard on a man not to be able to provide for his family." This time the silence around us isn't quite as comfortable. The hum of the fluorescent overhead lights seems to drown out the music.

Then I get an idea. "You know, Shannon's transferring to a university in August so she can finish up her business degree. Dad's been looking for a replacement. It might be worth looking into. Seth interned at the office, ya know? He'd fit right in, and walking isn't a requirement."

Erin fidgets with the 'take-a-penny, leave-a-penny' dish while contemplating my suggestion.

After a few seconds, I break the silence, "I don't know. Might be worth thinking about."

I've just hopped off the counter and started down the aisle when the bell over the door rings. "Hey, I gotta hit the head. Make sure no one touches my tea!" I holler, pointing in the general direction of the teal can before the heavy restroom door slams shut behind me.

A couple minutes later, I'm walking towards the front of the store, wiping my wet hands on my baggy jeans. "You're out of paper towels," I inform her. "Where do you keep them? I'll put a new roll in there for you."

Erin's eyes are glazed over, mouth twisted to the side as her teeth pull on the corner of her lips. She doesn't immediately answer me, so I poke around looking for a roll of the brown craft paper gas stations and schools have the audacity to call paper towels. "Hey, are you okay? Is it what I said before?"

"Yeah, no, I'm fine," she says. But the tightness of her face tells a different story. "That's a good idea. I'll tell Seth to give your dad a call. The paper towels are in the storage room behind the walk-in. Thanks."

Erin keeps glancing over her shoulder out the front window. I follow her line of sight, trying to figure out what happened while I was gone. When a blue Camry pulls out, she lets out the breath she'd been holding, and the tension in her face is suddenly gone. Weird.

"Oh shit, speaking of the Devil. That's my dad pulling in right now." Her green eyes widen with surprised laughter as I jump over the counter and crouch down beside her. "I let Drew use my truck to take Jamie out because he's grounded, and Dad took his keys. Don't tell him I'm here!"

"Okay." Erin pulls her dark hair back into a ponytail and works to ignore me when the bell rings.

"Hey, Erin, let me get another bottle of Johnnie, please." My dad sounds a little off, slow and deeper than usual. "A fifth this time. Actually, make it two."

Erin sends a concerned sidelong glance down at me as she grabs two fifths of Johnnie Walker Red off the shelf.

"Sure thing, Cal. You and the guys getting together for a game of cards?"

"Oh, uh, no. I'm running low at the house. I think the kids might be sneaking a little here and there. You remember how it was before you were twenty-one," he says with a hollow chuckle as she hands him back his change.

I wait a full minute after the bell signals he's gone before standing up. "Well, that was strange. None of us have been in his stash. Shannon has been seeing a really cool guy from her school, and he gets us whatever we want."

We watch my dad through the side window where he's parked. He downs a hefty portion of the bottle and then just sits there with his head resting on the steering wheel. I'm not great at picking up emotions but I swear from here it looks like he's crying.

Fuck.

The sound of Dad's voice coupled with the amount I just watched him guzzle will leave him in worse shape than the night of Mom's funeral, and that was an absolute shit show. The man cannot hold his liquor.

I'm going to need to drive him home, and I should call my siblings to warn them. Maybe Shannon will know how to handle this.

I pull my phone from the pocket of my hoodie to find that it's dead.