Behind and Before

I stayed in the bathroom a long time, hoping that the alcohol haze would lift so I could just drive myself home. No dice. I admitted defeat and returned to the bar, where Denise still had my keys…and now my phone. She handed it to me. “Marie’s on her way.”

I stared at her, not believing my ears. The strange percussion in my head didn’t help. “Wait…what?”

She spun a glass around, making it dance from side to side. Bartender tricks. “Your judgment is impaired, so I did you the favor of calling your girlfriend.”

I had a sense that I should feel angry, or violated, or something other than confused…but I was coming up blank. “How did you…?”

“I’m a detective.” She rolled her eyes. “Quick look at dialed numbers and received calls. Either you and Marie are together, or she needs to get a restraining order against you.”

I grimaced. Flipping open my phone, I was about to call and tell her not to come, not to worry, to forget it all…and then Denise said, “Well, aren’t you two cute together.”

I spun around, which was a mistake. I almost passed out on the floor. Or threw up. Stupid alcohol.

But there she was, looking distinctly like a nice girl in a bar for the first time in her life. She hurried toward me, the one familiar element in the alien terrain. Her face was worried, and dismay grew when she approached me. I probably looked like an absolute wreck; in the bathroom, I’d neglected to check whether my eyes were spinning in opposite directions or if it was just my imagination.

“Brooks?” she asked uncertainly, wondering, perhaps, if I was still capable of speech in my compromised state.

I reddened when I met her clear blue gaze, much more sad than angry…pitying rather than disappointed. “Sorry you had to come. I was going to call a taxi, but….” I shot a glare at Denise. She winked at me.

“That’s crazy. I’ll take you home.” She looked over my shoulder at Denise. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. See ya later, lovebirds.”

I got unsteadily to my feet and took my keys from her outstretched finger. I was surprised, but grateful, when Marie wrapped her arm around my waist and guided me outside. The stairs probably would have murdered me otherwise. I groaned as the light hit my absurdly dilated pupils.

“Brooks,” she sighed in response. I didn’t know what she meant by it.

When we got to her car, she left me at the passenger door and went around to the other side. She looked at me, appearing apprehensive about getting into the vehicle with a drunk like me. “It’s okay,” I said, meaning I wasn’t an angry drunk, and she had nothing to worry about.

She nodded. “I know.”

When we were both seated and buckled, she started the engine and locked the doors. Her fingers were tight on the wheel, but she forced some levity into her tone as she observed, “So, this is different.”

“You driving, you rescuing me from a freaking bar, or my alcoholic aroma?”

I glanced over at her and thought I saw her lips twitch. But it could have been my eyes spasming. Or my brain cells dying.

“All of the above.”

I sighed, which sent a pounding feeling through my head. I’d need to remember not to do that again for several hours. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. I wish you had stayed with me. I wish you’d talk to me.”

I wished all that as well…I was yelling at myself internally. I hated myself for creating this situation and causing the tension that was apparent in her posture.

The Draft wasn’t far from her apartment, and soon she was helping me negotiate the stairs. “Your neighbors are going to call the police to report my public drunkenness.”

“Just don’t flash anyone and I think we’ll be okay.”

I smiled in spite of myself.

I sat at the table while she made me peppermint tea and brought me Tylenol. When I protested, she said I had to take it or risk her wrath. Which brought out the question at the forefront of my mind. “Why aren’t you mad at me?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “For what?”

“For…this mess. For getting drunk. Instead of talking to you. For making you come get me.”

“Denise made me come get you.”

“You know what I mean.”

She drew her feet onto the chair and rested her chin on her knees, watching me. “I’m sad, not angry. I’m sorry you hurt. I wish I could fix it. And like I said, I wish you had told me…but I’ve kept things from you, so I can hardly demand that you talk about something. As much as I’d like to.” She smiled wryly.

“I wish you knew the Love that loves you more than you can believe. He’s there even when you feel like the world is against you.”

I drank some tea, considering. She made it so difficult to keep anything from her.

“And Brooks? Can I say something?”

“Of course.”

She bit her lip. “Okay, I’m sorry to make assumptions…but if not telling me about it has anything to do with my past…like, I don’t have a family so how can you complain about yours…don’t worry about it. I promise I understand. Relationships are the most complicated part of life, and I know you enough to know you would be so considerate as to make that comparison. But there is no comparison, because our situations are completely different, and the most important thing is that you have struggles and pain, and I’m here for you. No matter what.”

I just stared at her…she was doing it again. Making everything right. I wanted to thank her some way…or to somehow deserve her. But I couldn’t. “You’re amazing.”