Far From Home (18 page)

Brandon walked over quickly to help me support Jesse as we got him down the stairs.

“I’m taking him to my house.  Can you help me get him in my car?” I asked and Brandon and I led him over to my Jetta.  He got in easily and he appeared to have passed out the moment we shut the door, his head resting against the glass. 

“Are you okay?” Brandon asked tenderly and I nodded, but not before a tear finally escaped.  I’d been trying so hard to hold them back so Jesse wouldn’t think I was weak.  Brandon pulled me into his embrace and I cried for a moment while he held me. “Jess is lucky to have you,” he said sweetly, so unlike the sarcastic Brandon I was accustomed to.  I didn’t say anything, but just smiled up at him and pulled back, looking over to Laura, Holly and Mandy. 

“Why don’t you guys go on home?  Brandon and I will get Jesse settled at my house and I’ll try and figure out what happened tomorrow.  I don’t think I’ll get anything out of him tonight.”

“Are you sure we can’t come and help?” Laura asked.

“We’ve got it, but thanks,” I said, looking each of them in the eye. 

“Please keep us posted,” Holly pleaded and I nodded, before heading back to my car. 

When I got into the driver’s side, I glanced at Jesse before backing the car onto the road.  He looked sweet as his long, deep breaths filled the silence of the car.  How could I have missed how bad it was really getting for him?  It was then I realized how terrible a feeling guilt truly is and even though I knew he wouldn’t be aware of it, I held his hand the whole way home.

When we got to my house, I nudged him gently until his eyes fluttered open.  He remained groggy, but at least he was able to move his feet as Brandon and I shuffled him onto the porch.  My mom’s eyes got wide when she saw the state Jesse was in.

“What happened?” she gasped, practically jumping up from the chair where she’d been reading a book.

“I don’t know,” I began. “He didn’t show up at the pizza place, so we all went to check on him and we found him completely wasted.  Something must be really wrong, Mom.”

“Let’s get him into bed,” she said and Brandon and I went to the stairs. 

Jesse was cognizant so he was able to help us a little.  It was still difficult getting all six foot two of him up the stairs though.  My mom pulled back the covers and we laid him down, jeans and all, into the bed.  My mom looked down to remove his shoes, but she quickly realized he didn’t have any on and then pulled the blankets back over him.  He was asleep again the moment his head hit the pillow and we all filed out of the guest bedroom, turning off the light and closing the door as we left.  We stood huddled in the hallway, staring at the floor as we all processed what we’d just witnessed. 

“I didn’t know Jesse drank,” my mom said, raising her eyes to meet mine.

“He doesn’t.  Not really,” I answered quickly, thinking it best not to bring up I’d caught him before.  With everything else, Jesse didn’t need my mother doubting him. 

“He’s doesn’t, Mrs. Regas,” Brandon assured her as well.

“Do you know what happened to cause this kind of reaction then?”

“No.  No idea.  He’s obviously way more depressed than I realized.”

“Than any of us realized.  Don’t put this all on you, Riley,” Brandon said quickly, but I couldn’t help thinking it was partly my fault since I knew he’d been drinking. 

“Let’s just let him rest and talk to him in the morning,” my mom said, encouraging us to head back downstairs. “He’s going to have one heck of a hangover.” We all laughed a little to ease the mood.  It was true.  He’d be miserable in the morning. 

“Thanks for helping me,” I said, turning to Brandon.

“If you need anything else, just call,” he said and I nodded. “I mean that, Riley.”

“I know you do and I will,” I said as Brandon leaned in and hugged me. “Wow, two hugs in one night,” I laughed. “You must be getting soft, Brandon.”

“Me, soft?  Never,” he said sweetly, hugging me again and then turning and walking outside to go home. 

My mom and I stood quietly in the kitchen as we watched Brandon’s headlights fade off into the distance. 

“Jesse’s a good boy who’s just been dealt a bad hand.  I’m not excusing how he behaved tonight, but I can see his need to just shut it all off.”

“It’s just hard to see him like this.  He’s always been the strong one.  Just look how he stuck by me when everything happened with Alex.  He had more faith in me than I ever did.  I just wish he had faith in himself right now,” I said softly and then I felt my mom’s arms around me and I hugged her back.

“Loving someone is not always easy,” she said gently in my ear and I closed my eyes, realizing how painfully true her statement was. 

Chapter Twenty

I knew Jesse was awake when I heard him heaving in the bathroom.  It sounded as if he were dying and as my eyes opened, I wondered if I should just stay in bed or go check on him.  I glanced at the clock.  It was 7:45, but it seemed much earlier.  I turned my head towards the window and saw the sky was gray and dark and beads of water drizzled down the window pane.  I hadn’t realized it was raining, which meant I must’ve been out cold throughout the night. 

I heard Jesse lurch again and then the sound of the toilet flushing.  I pulled the covers back and walked slowly to the bathroom.  The door was closed and I raised my hand, knocking hesitantly.  It opened and Jesse stood before me looking even worse than he did the night before.  To say his hair was disheveled would be being polite.  It was an all-out mess with masses of dark bunches sticking up every which way.  He looked exhausted with giant purple circles under his eyes and I could still smell the alcohol on him.  When our eyes met, he looked embarrassed and he couldn’t hold my gaze for long before he looked down at the floor. 

“Hey,” I said softly.

“Morning,” he said, his voice even lower than mine. 

“Did you wanna take a shower?  I can get you a towel.”

“Um, yeah,” he said, running a hand quickly through his hair, trying to tame it. “That’d be good.”

I walked across the hall and pulled a towel and wash cloth from the linen closet and then handed it to him. 

“Thanks,” was all he said and closed the door.  I stood there for a moment before I went back into my room to wait for him.  I didn’t know what we would say to each other when he got done in the shower.  I wanted to jump in and ask him about the night before.  I needed to know what had happened to bring him to this point.  I needed to know why he hadn’t come to me.  I had to know how I could help him. 

It seemed like he was in the shower forever and when I heard the water shut off and the door open a few minutes later, I found myself holding my breath.  I heard his footsteps and I turned to see him hovering hesitantly outside my room. His hair was still wet and I couldn’t help but think how adorable he was, even hung over.

“You can come in,” I encouraged and he took a few steps, stopping momentarily in the doorframe before coming in all the way.  I was sitting at the head of my bed, Indian style, holding a pillow in my lap.  He sat at the foot of the bed and folded his hands as his elbows rested on his knees. “How’re you feeling?” I continued.

“Like hell.”

“You look like hell,” I said as our eyes met, his mouth still formed into a sad line. 

“My head is pounding,” he said, rubbing his temples and then he turned to me. “What the heck happened last night?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Bits and pieces.  I remember seeing you and Brandon and everyone else and then there was some yelling or something and I remember getting into your car and then waking up here.  It took me a second to realize where I was.”

“Well, you were pretty hammered last night.  It looked like you drained the entire liquor cabinet.”

It was quiet for a moment as he brushed a piece of damp hair off his forehead and then he stared down at the floor.

“I never wanted you to see me like this, Riley.  How bad was it?” he sighed and he must’ve noticed the expression on my face because I remembered it entirely too well. “I don’t like that look, Ry.  What did I do?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, not wanting to rehash how awful last night had been. 

“It does matter,” he said firmly. “What did I do?”

“Jesse, what good is it gonna do to go through all of this?  Let’s just move past it.”

“I can tell by the look on your face it was bad last night.”

I breathed in deeply, not wanting to tell him the way he’d treated us…the way he’d treated me, but I knew he wanted to know and if he wanted to know, I’d have to tell him. 

“I know you didn’t mean any of it,” I began, but then I suddenly wondered if maybe he had meant some of it.  He may have been drunk, but what he said had to stem from somewhere.  There had to be a little truth to his words.

“Don’t sugarcoat it,” he interrupted. “Just tell me what I did.”

“Well,” I began and I started to chuckle a little. “You began by telling us all to F off.”

I saw him sit back and then a little grin spread over his face.

“I said that to you guys?  The actual word?”

“You sure did. You would’ve been proud of yourself at how effectively you dropped the F bomb.  The way it was peppered throughout your sentences was very dramatic,” I said with a quiet laugh.

“I can’t believe I did that.  I must’ve been pretty pissed,” he said with an embarrassed smile.

“You were more than pretty pissed,” I said and then both of our smiles faded, knowing it really wasn’t a situation we should be joking about. 

“You’re right.  Maybe I don’t want to hear about what an asshole I was last night,” he said and then it was quiet between us for a moment as he cautiously took my hand in his and I clutched it tightly.  It had been too long since I’d felt his hand in mine and I didn’t want to let go.

“What happened last night?” I asked putting the pillow aside and moving next to him on the bed.

“I don’t know.  I guess it just became too much.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me?  I’ve tried showing you I’m here for you, but you just keep pushing me away.  I want to help you, Jesse.”

“But you can’t.”

“Yes, I can…if you’ll let me, but you won’t let me and I don’t know why you won’t let me.”

“Because there are just some things you can’t help with, no matter how badly you want to.”

“Did something happen?” I asked bluntly. “I mean, not that long ago you were throwing pebbles at my window and we were having fun, but lately…lately you’ve been…you’ve just been so different.  You seemed so hopeful that night you showed up under my window.”

I heard Jesse sigh and he straightened his back, turning to look at me.

“I
was
hopeful.”

“Was? As in you’re not now?” I asked nervously.

“Like I said, there are just certain things you can’t do anything about and I’ve got to figure out how to deal with it on my own.”

“What’s going on?” I grabbed his hand and stared into his scared gray eyes. “Dammit, Jesse.  Talk to me!” I begged.

He sighed, running an anxious hand through his hair and he turned to me, his face a mass of fearful emotions.

“My dad had some expenses we didn’t know about.  Back taxes, loans on the business I wasn’t aware of, stuff like that.”

“What does that mean?” I asked nervously as my heart began to pound, knowing it couldn’t be good. 

  “It means the money is practically gone because of it.  After everything’s paid off, there will be about a thousand bucks left and then I’m on my own.”

“What?” I gasped quietly, my hand covering my mouth as I tried to fathom what he was dealing with. “How can this be?  They can’t take all that money.  You need it.”

“Yes, they
can
take it and they will.  I’ve learned dying is very expensive.”

“And there’s nothing you can do?”

“The probate lawyer said I could try and sell the house.”

“You can’t do that!” I exclaimed. “That’s your home.”

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do.  There’s just too much with my dad’s business and everything else.  I’m only eighteen.  I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.  I can’t run that shop and I can’t just walk away either.  What about the guys that work there?  There’s all this stuff in my head and I’m trying to work through it to figure out how to make it all work and I just don’t see a way.”

“What about Glenn?  He can help, right?”

“Yeah, maybe,” he said quietly. “I haven’t talked to him much.  It’s too weird…for both of us.”  I nodded my head as if I understood when in reality I had no clue. 

“When did you find out about all this?”

“Do you remember on the Fourth of July when the lawyer said he needed to meet with me?” he asked and I nodded. “Well, I finally met with him yesterday afternoon.  I’d been putting it off because I knew it wasn’t going to be good news and I wanted to avoid it as long as I could.” His voice was regretful and sad and I understood why he chose to ignore it.  I’d want to.

“Why didn’t you tell me about all of this?  Why didn’t you come to me?”

“Because there’s nothing you can do about it.  If I told you, all you’d do is worry.  I see it on your face all the time and I don’t want you worrying about me.  Every time I screw up, I see the hurt on your face and I couldn’t do that to you again and then I went off and did something even worse by getting wasted like that, but after I learned how screwed up everything is, I just had to numb it.  I didn’t know what else to do and my dad’s liquor cabinet looked like a pretty good way to shut everything off.”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to drink anymore.”

“I know I did and I hadn’t…until last night.  I just needed something, but it got out of hand because the more I drank, the less I felt.  I’m sorry for lying,” he said, taking my hand and staring into my eyes. “And I swear, I’m done.  It won’t happen again.  I promise.  I never want to feel this way again.”

I knew it would do no good to hound him about the drinking.  I wanted to believe him, but I was doubtful.  The room stayed quiet, and I wanted the quiet to remain, but I knew it couldn’t.  I didn’t want to talk about last night, but now that he was sober, I had to know the roots behind what he’d said to me.  I needed to know if he really meant what he’d said. I had to find out what he wanted from me.