Whiskey and Country

Minutes later, Jace joined us, bags of food and a bottle of alcohol in his arms. My stomach heaved at the sight.

The smell of food attacked my nostrils. Nausea hit me. I waited for the waves to die down, replaced by the rumbling of my stomach. Traitor. Guess I was hungry after all.

“We’re worried about you.” He paused. His silence spoke volumes as I realized I wasn’t alone in my grief. Derek had befriended both of them over the years. They too had lost someone they loved. Neither of us said anything for a long beat. My eyes filmed with unshed tears as the three of us stood for a moment, reminiscing the one who was no longer there but whose essence would always touch us.

My voice turned ragged as I whispered the truth. “I unplugged him, man. I’ll have to live with this for the rest of my life. I ended his life, for God’s sake. Pushed that button. I. Fucking. Killed. Him. I killed Derek.”

My head bent low with each word as if my neck couldn’t take its weight.

Tucker rounded the island, grabbed my arm, and forced me to level my gaze with his. “You’re a hero, man. You freed that boy from further suffering. Remember that part. He was already brain dead. Nothing you could have done more for him; you just put an end to his hell. We also knew Derek. He wouldn’t want you to be miserable. He would want you happy. Not ha-ha happy right now, but happy. And thriving. If he could tell you himself, he’d be grateful for the courage you showed him in the last seconds of his life.”

Some of Derek’s words came back to me.

I don’t want any of you to be too sad. Crying is okay. But don’t stop being happy because I won’t be there.

I cocked my head to avoid looking at my friend, a new batch of scorching tears stinging the back of my eyes, the wave of pain turning into a tsunami. How many tears could I still cry? I thought that well had emptied a long time ago.

Jace neared us with shot glasses. “Drink this. Today you’re allowed to mourn. And get shit-faced. But under our watch. No more lone drinking spree. Starting tomorrow, you’ll start living again. It’s unfair. It’s stupid. It’s heartbreaking. But it’s life. You can’t throw your future away. We won’t let you.” Jace had lost his cousin when we were ten. If someone knew how I felt, it was him.

He offered me a taco as we sat around the kitchen counter and poured me another shot.

Even if I had drunk my weight in whiskey already, I enjoyed the effect the booze provided. Knowing this time around, it wouldn’t make me sick. Just numb. To pain. And everything that ached inside.

After dinner, I slouched on the sofa between my friends and downed the other shot Tucker handed me. My lids weighed tons. And so was the invisible burden on my shoulders.

“Thanks, guys.”

Unable to sit straight, I lay down, not even bothering to go to my room.

“Your alarm is set for six in the morning,” one of my friends said. My brain was a blurry bliss, and I had a hard time pinpointing who said those words. “Just sleep.”

“Thank you,” I muttered when someone covered me with a blanket as sleep claimed me and made me forget my pain. Again. Only for the moment.

Seven hours and four coffees later, I drove to the condo work site, my spirits undefinable. Needing a clear headspace to go through my day, I pushed all my feelings and angst down and locked them up for good measure.

“Glad you’re feeling better,” Sammy, the plumber, told me when we crossed paths after I climbed down my truck.

I nodded, not ready to speak, fearing I might break down if I did, my throat tight with emotions.

With a deep inhale and a roll of my shoulders, I met my men for our morning meeting. The one I was in charge of. The one I led every single day. Minus the last few days.

I had no word of advice to give them today, my usual leadership missing. If they noticed, they said nothing. Not in the mood to talk to anyone, I retreated into the trailer, working on administrative shit, far from the noisy commotion outside.

My day passed in a blur.

And the next one too.

Keeping myself busy had become my main objective.

My nights were more agitated.

Images, memories, conversations with Derek took center stage in my mind, preventing me from sleeping all through the night.

* * *

In the hallway, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and fumbled with my tie. I hated these things. In my teen years, I’d decided I’d never work in an office. Just the idea of putting a suit on every day was enough to make me hyperventilate. Tucker loved those, obsessed over them even. If he could, he’d probably sleep in one.

Cufflinks? They were the worst.

Tucker let himself in and neared me, wolf-whistling, while he scanned me from head to toe.

“Stop being a dick and help me out. I’m about to rip this tie to shreds and forgo the whole thing.”

My friend came up to me, smiling like a loon. He expertly handled the tie. “Stop squirming. It’ll take a minute. Let the expert deal with this.”

With a loud huff, I lowered my shaky hands to my sides.

“Fine. But hurry up. I don’t wanna be late.”

The front door opened and closed, and I spotted Jace from the corner of my eye.

“Hey man,” I told him. “We’ll be ready in a minute. If Tuck can hasten up.”

“I brought reinforcement,” Jace said, raising a bottle of whiskey.

“Pour us two shots each, man,” Tucker told Jace. “Nick here needs to calm his nerves. Trust me. He’s about to turn into a wreck any minute if we don’t do something. Time for an intervention. A boozy intervention.”

I palmed his chest with as much strength as I could muster, and he faked being hurt for a second.

It had been ten days since I’d drunk myself into oblivion. From that day on, I had reduced my alcohol intake to two shots a day. In my entire life, I’d never tanked that much, and it took me days to recover from my twenty-four hours slip-up.

Tuck growled. “Stop moving. Geez. Even a toddler can stay still better than you.”

I rolled my eyes and let him do what he did best, making me look sharp. And put together. Tucker adjusted the lapel of my jacket and fixed my hair next.

“There,” he said. “You clean up well. Now let’s drink those shots before we get going. A little liquid courage never hurt anybody.”

“Whiskey can’t fix things. Soon I’ll turn into an alcoholic,” I complained as I slumped on a bar stool opposite my friends. Not in the mood for a drink, but knowing there was some truth to their words, I prayed my stomach could withstand the alcohol better this time around.

“No, you won’t. The days will get better. Promise,” Jace stated.

“To Derek,” Tuck said as we each brought our shot glasses to our mouths.

“To Derek,” Jace and I repeated.

“Fuck, what’s that?” Jace asked, going through the copy of the contract Cody gave me yesterday that I’d thrown on the counter and forgotten all about.

I shrugged. “Work stuff. Cody wants me on board for a project starting in the fall. It’s a renewable five-year contract to make sure I won’t leave the company in the middle of it. He gave it to me a couple of days ago.”

“And he’s offering to pay you that much money for overseeing the job?” Jace asked.

“I guess.” I scratched the top of my head. “It won’t be a seven-to-four job. I’ll need to put in extra hours on most days and work on the weekends when necessary. It’s big.”

“Gimme that,” Tucker said, stealing the paper from Jace’s hands, the hedge fund banker in him already analyzing the offer. Tucker was gifted. With numbers. And stats. And everything business-like. He wasn’t even twenty-five and was already earning a mid-high six-figure salary. Yeah, the guy had it in him. A natural talent, as one of his college professors once said.

“Okay. This is big, Nick. If you sign this, you won’t have an out. For five years. But you’ll be making a lot of money. Even if you work one hundred hours a week, you’ll still be plenty rewarded for your hard work. And you know I’ll help you invest it wisely. Why didn’t you sign it yet?”

I sighed and buried my face in my hands.

“I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep. Or the drinks or something, but I need time to think it over.” I took the contract from his hand and put it back on the countertop. “Let’s not think about this for now. We should go. I don’t want Murielle to be alone. Not today.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and straightened my back, and swallowing the gigantic lump blocking my airways, I rose to my feet.

“Let’s go.”