Not Your Finest Hour

After my nap, I got up, showered and then got ready to go out.  Brody came into the bedroom as I was fighting with my hair.  He smirked as he watched me try to wrestle it into submission.  "The humidity here has turned my hair into an untamed beast," I complained.

His smirk turned into a grin and he kissed me on the cheek and said, "Good thing you're pretty enough for it not to matter," as he walked into the bathroom to shower.

"That's not really helpful!" I called after him.  I heard him laugh from behind the closed door.

I finally gave up and pulled my hair back in a bun, smoothing the fly-aways down the best I could.  At least it would be away from my face and off my neck.

We beat Jack and his date to the restaurant, so we got a table and drinks while we waited.  By the time Jack and a pretty redhead walked in 15 minutes later, Brody had already ordered a second drink.  I was glad we had taken a cab here and I wouldn't need to try to navigate downtown traffic on the way home.

We stood up to greet Jack, and he introduced his date as Alyssa.  She looked nothing like what I had imagined when Brody told me Jack was seeing someone, but she was very pretty and seemed nice.  She excused herself to use the restroom after they ordered drinks, and Jack looked at Brody.  "I won't tell any college stories about you to Liv if you don't tell any of mine to Alyssa."

Brody raised one eyebrow and grinned.  "Well, where's the fun in that?  And anyway, Liv knows all about my sordid past."

"Come on, man, she's a nice girl.  You'll horrify her if you tell her what I used to be like.  She knows the basics, she doesn't need the nitty gritty details."

"How'd you end up with a nice girl anyway?" Brody asked, chuckling.

"The same way you did," Jack replied pointedly.

Brody laughed fully then and shook his head.  "Jack, I'm not going to tell her all about your past, don't worry.  I'll stick to the 2 or 3 clean-ish stories that exist."  Jack looked relieved, and both guys looked up sheepishly as Alyssa returned to the table.  I rolled my eyes.  They weren't even going to need to tell stories to get Jack in trouble with how guilty they both looked already.

Brody kept his word, even after downing several drinks.  When he got up to go to the bathroom, Jack leaned across the table and asked softly, the worry in his face evident, "Does he always drink like this?"

I shook my head.  "Never.  I've only seen him actually drunk a couple times. He's not doing well with everything."

"Clearly," Jack replied.  He briefly explained to a confused Alyssa that Brody's dad had died, leaving out the ugly details.  "What can I do?"

I shrugged.  "I don't know," I replied.  "I think it will help to just see you again if you guys can work it out sometime this week."  He nodded, but then we had to stop conspiring because Brody was headed back towards the table.

I was relieved when we finished dinner, because Brody was obviously drunk at this point, and I wanted to get him back to the hotel room before he got too wasted.  He ruined my relief by insisting on heading to the bar next door for another drink.

"I don't think that's a great idea," I said.  "I'm pretty tired, and you must be too."

"Yeah," Jack agreed.  "We should probably get going."

"What, can't drink like you used to, old man?" Brody said, a little more loudly than necessary.  Someone at a nearby table turned and glared in our direction.

"Brody, we can have another drink when we get back to the hotel," I suggested desperately.  The waiter returned with our change and Brody waved him away.

"You can have another drink when we get back to the hotel," he declared, standing up.  "I'm going to have another drink at the bar next door, and I'd like to see you try to stop me."  I gaped at him, but he simply walked towards the door.

I looked desperately at Jack as we trailed Brody out the door.  I reached for his hand to try to tug him away from the bar next door but he moved out of my reach and walked inside.  "Shit," I muttered.  "He's so fucking drunk."

Jack glanced at Alyssa, who looked sympathetically after Brody.  "Losing a parent is hard," she said simply.  I was glad she didn't seem to think that this was the norm for Brody.

Jack nodded.  "I need to stay here with them until we can get him out of here," he said apologetically to Alyssa.  "I'll get you a cab if you want to go."

"You don't have to stay," I said quickly.  I was grateful for the offer, but I didn't want Brody's grief to ruin anyone's night.

"I'm staying," he replied firmly.  He turned to Alyssa, waiting for her response.

"I'll stay too," she said.  We walked into the crowded building and quickly located Brody near the bar, an already nearly empty drink in his hand.

He grinned widely at us when he saw us approaching.  "Decided to not be old and lame, huh?  Good choice.  What do you want?"

"I'm fine," I said, at the same time as Jack's reply of, "Water is good."

Brody's grin faded.  "Ah, so old and lame after all, with the added bonus of being here to babysit me.  Got it."

"Brody," Jack said firmly but kindly.  "Not a single one of us can pretend to know what you're going through, but I'm worried you're going to seriously regret not going back to your hotel with Liv when you finish that drink."

In an impressive act of pointed defiance, Brody turned away from Jack and ordered another drink.  When it came, he slammed it and it was gone within 10 seconds.

"Brody, you're kind of freaking me out," I said quietly.  It was loud and crowded, and I didn't think he'd hear me.  I was surprised when he turned to me immediately, concern on his face.

"Okay," he said abruptly.  "We'll go."  I sighed in relief as he walked towards the door.  Jack gave me a questioning look and I shrugged.

I hurried to catch up with him, not wanting to lose him to another distraction.  But when we got outside into the humid night air, Brody went straight for a cab idling at the curb.

"Thanks," I said to Jack, pausing before I went to get in the cab with Brody.  "I'm sorry, this was a mess."

"Don't be.  Wait, let me give you my number.  Call me if you need anything.  And let me know that you got him back in one piece, okay?"  I promised I would, and quickly put his number into my phone and gave him mine.  I thanked him again, weakly told Alyssa that it was nice to meet her, and hurried towards the cab.

As I slid into the backseat, Brody laughed bitterly.  "Giving your number to my former best friend because I'm too much of a disaster for you?"

"Brody, stop," I replied, trying not to let my exasperation show.  "He's worried about you.  He wanted me to have his number in case we needed anything, and he wants to know that I got you safely back to the hotel.  We are going back to the hotel, right?"

He leaned his head back against the headrest and shut his eyes.  "Yes, Liv, we're going back to the hotel," he said, his tone mocking.  I gritted my teeth and took a deep breath, looking out the window to keep from snapping back at him.

We were both silent the rest of the cab ride back, and I was relieved.  I shook him gently when we pulled up in front of the hotel and he roused and climbed out.  I handed the driver some money and followed Brody into the hotel lobby.  We continued our silence through the lobby and during the elevator ride up to the room.  When we got to the room, I went immediately into the bedroom to change for bed.  I then went into the bathroom and washed my face and brushed my teeth.  When I came out, Brody was sitting on the bed, looking in my direction.

"You're mad at me too," he said despondently.  "Everyone is mad at me."

My shoulders slumped and I sat down on the floor across from him.  "I'm not mad at you.  I'm worried about you.  I'm frustrated because I can't fix it.  And yes, I'm a little annoyed by how things went tonight, but I understand why."

"I was an asshole today," he stated.

"It was a rough day," I agreed.

"I need to apologize.  To my mom and Jen.  I was terrible to them today."  He stood up and put his shoes back on.  "I'm going to go up to their room and tell them I'm sorry."

"Wait a sec," I said, jumping up.  "Brody, it's after 11.  They're probably sleeping.  You can apologize tomorrow, it'll be better received then."

To my relief, he sank back down on the bed.  "Okay," he agreed.

"Bed?" I asked.  He nodded, then went into the bathroom.  I found a bottle of water in the fridge and put it on the nightstand at his side of the bed and then climbed under the blankets, settling into the comfortable bed.

When he finally joined me, he immediately rolled onto his side and wrapped his arm around me.  I settled back against him.  He was quiet for so long that I thought he was passed out, but when I was almost asleep, he spoke, startling me a little.  "I don't know how to grieve for him, Liv," he whispered, his voice so soft I could barely hear him, his words slightly slurred.

"I know," I replied, hoping his drunkenness would keep him talking.

"I'm so confused," he continued, getting a little louder.  "How do you grieve for someone that you spent more than half your life hating?  But not even hating, because even through the worst, I still had some respect for him--for the way he ran his business and how successful he was.  But now I guess that was misplaced respect.  I mean, I'm still trying to get over the shock of finding out what he was really up to.  And part of me is relieved and I feel like the worst person in the world for that.  But...he was my dad.  And I didn't always hate him.  Before I was old enough to know better...or maybe he just wasn't as awful then.  I feel like a crazy person."  His rambling stopped abruptly, and he took a deep, shuddering breath and pressed his face against the back of my neck.

I waited several seconds to make sure he was done before speaking.  "Brody, even though it feels like it, you're not even close to a crazy person," I started.  He laughed against my neck.  "You're not.  You've had mixed feelings--really strong mixed feelings--about him for so long that I would be far more concerned if you weren't confused and mixed up about how to feel about his death.  And regardless of what kind of person he was, and how you feel about that, he played a really big part in making you into the person you are today, and that's hard to avoid acknowledging.  I can't even wrap my head around all the conflicting thoughts and feelings you might be having, and I wouldn't be shocked if trying to sort those out was the hardest thing about this all.  Especially because we all have an idea what grieving is 'supposed' to be like, or how we're 'supposed' to feel about our parents."

"Yeah," he said.  He was silent for nearly 30 seconds, and I waited, letting him think through whatever he was thinking about.  "That makes sense.  I guess this is one of those times it doesn't suck to have a therapist for a girlfriend."

"So I should not stop being such a fucking therapist?" I teased gently.

"No, I guess not," he admitted.  "Liv, I love you.  I'm happy you came down this weekend.  I didn't realize how much I needed you here until you got here.  Jen probably would have killed me if you weren't here."

"She might have," I agreed with a laugh.

Brody tightened his arm around me, pulling me hard against him.   "I love you," he said again.

"I love you too," I replied, finding his hand and lacing my fingers with his.  "I'm sorry this is so hard, and I wish I could do more to help."

He didn't respond, and I again thought he had passed out finally.  I unlaced my fingers from his so I could shift into a more comfortable position, and I was dozing off when he spoke again.  "Will I ever not feel like it's my fault?"

"I hope so," I replied softly.

"He came to me for help, and I kicked him out.  I chose you over him, and I don't regret that, but maybe none of this would have happened if I had just helped him.  He needed me and..."  Brody stopped, and I felt his body shake slightly against my back as he sucked in a deep breath.  He didn't finish his thought.  I tried to roll over to face him, but his arms tightened around me just enough to keep me from rolling over.  I relaxed back against him and instead moved my hand back up to his and wove my fingers between his once more.  He gripped my hand and pressed his face back against my neck.

I didn't think now would be a good time to point out that he couldn't have prevented anything by giving his dad money when he asked, or not kicking him out of the house, so instead I simply said, "You were put in a tough spot."

I felt him nod.  "Yeah," he agreed.  "Yeah, I was."  He took another deep, shuddering breath, and his grip on my fingers relaxed incrementally.  I waited for him to say something else, and was surprised when he chuckled softly and said, "I'm going to feel like shit in the morning."

"Probably," I concurred. 

"I was an idiot tonight."

"It wasn't your finest hour," I responded mildly.  He laughed then, loudly enough to startle me.  "But," I conceded, "I think you needed it."

"I did," he replied.  "And I'm going to need the feeling like shit in the morning to teach me to not do it again."  I laughed.  "Goodnight, Liv."

I turned far enough to kiss him.  "Goodnight.  I hope you only feel a little shitty in the morning."

I laid awake in the darkness until I was sure that he was really asleep.  Then I shut my eyes and sank into an exhausted slumber.