Chapter 29 #2
Constantine takes the bags of food to his kitchen and then sets them on the island. Instructing me to sit.
He makes me a massive glass of water, then hovers over me with his arms crossed.
“There are rules while you live here.” I want to roll my eyes because I can hear Niko laugh under his breath.
“No girls. No drugs. And you go to therapy twice a week. I get to choose the therapist.”
“You know I’ve been a fully functioning adult for a long time, Con-”
He scoffs, interrupting me, “Could have fooled me, Alex. Hell, you could have fooled anyone.” Turning his head, he says, “Niko, take a walk.”
Niko grabs his bag and leaves.
“Listen closely,” Connie’s voice is low and rough. “When I saw you today, I nearly had a coronary episode. You looked just like him.” He whispers the last part, and chills run along my extremities. “That is not who you are, son.” Tears fill his eyes as he fights to keep them out of his voice.
My greatest fear has been turning into Ray, and here I am, one bad decision away from stepping into his shoes. I nod, feeling my throat swell uncomfortably under the weight of his truth.
“Eat. Then go to sleep, and tomorrow, we’ll start over.” He gives me a pat on the back, then takes the seat right beside me. We eat in tandem, and then sit there for a long while after, neither of us talking, but neither one of us leaving either.
“Wake up, Alex.” It’s her voice, again.
No, it’s their voices mixed.
Huh? Everything is foggy, but there’s a gentle hand on my shoulder, nudging me, rubbing.
“It’s time to wake up, my love.” Today’s the day.
I don’t want to wake up.
I crack my eye open, and just like it was the day before, my mom’s face is swollen and blackened beyond recognition. I look down at my body, the body of a six-year-old, in a wooden bed with an American flag quilt.
It’s a fucking dream. The same one I’ve had for three decades. It’s the morning I leave for Arizona to go live with Ray.
“Mom,” I’m crying. “I don’t want to go,” I tell her like I wanted to that day but couldn’t muster the courage to actually say.
“Oh, baby.” Georgia leans over me, hugging me. “Then you won’t go.”
I can’t go live with Ray, I can’t. “I don’t want to live with him, I didn’t mean it!” I sob against my mother’s floral robe.
“That’s all you had to say. You’ll never have to live with him if you don’t want to, I promise.”
I sniffle, “Okay.”
“I love you, Alexander.”
“I love you, too.” Even in my dream, my stomach turns, and my mind laughs at me. This isn’t a dream, you fool; this is a nightmare.
“Wake up!” I inhale sharply at the knocking on the door and then a woman’s voice. “Listen, I don’t really need to be babysitting another fully grown adult, so get up and get dressed. You have an appointment in 30 minutes.”
I don’t recognize the voice. Hell, I barely recognize the room I’m in. The dream felt almost tangible. I wanted it to be. I thought I could reach out and touch her…
It started with Emma, and then somewhere…it changed to Georgia’s voice, and I was back in the same variation of the dream I’ve had for years. They seem like a dream. They lure me in by recounting the past, but always with new words and different outcomes.
It’s a taunt, the dream always morphing into a nightmare. Because the nightmare isn’t reliving what actually happened, the nightmare is waking up and living with what might have been.
What might have been…
I shower, trim my beard, throw on some clothes Brit dropped off for me, and head for the kitchen.
Still feel like dying.
My head pounds and my palms are already sweaty, but I’m here. Existing and on time. I don’t know what more they could possibly want from me.
“Morning, Alex,” Connie says from his seat at the breakfast table. “You’ve met Gina before, right?” Yeah, and I’ve heard about her, too. My sister isn’t a fan, which means I’m not either.
“Yeah,” is all I say.
“Great seeing you again, too,” Gina rolls her eyes, then pours me a cup of coffee.
“Is it safe to drink?” I look at Gina, then to Connie, who bursts into laughter.
“At your own risk, but whatever you decide, hurry up,” Connie says, nudging my cup closer.
“Why, where are we going?”
“Nowhere, but your first appointment is in ten minutes,” Gina says, then places a plate consisting of an egg white omelet and fruit in front of me. “You can eat it or starve. And no, I didn’t make it,” she says when she catches me eyeing it warily.
It has more to do with the nausea than to do with her poisoning my food, though.
“I-it’s great, thanks.” I don’t care enough to spar with her. I can give her basic politeness. Nothing more.
We all eat together, including Gina. It’s awkward at best.
Then the doorbell rings; well, actually, it chimes.
I help clear the dishes as a woman in her late 40s, maybe, walks into the kitchen carrying yoga mats.
“Connie!” Fuck, she has a lot of energy. “Oh my god, who is this handsome man?” The woman asks, eyeing me like a prize at the county fair.
“That’s Alex, my son. He’ll be joining us today.” Her eyes light up like the Fourth of July.
I want to die. Doing yoga with my aging guardian and his horny instructor is not how I pictured my life at 44.
“I’ll be setting up. Come out when you’re ready,” she winks.
“Don’t let her fool you, Linda’s a hardass,” Connie elbows me in the ribs. I doubt it.
I can’t move. Hell, I never want to move again.
Isn’t the purpose of yoga to open up? Isn’t it stretching?
The nurse inserts the needle for the IV, and I wait for the fluids and vitamin B12 to work their magic.
Our second appointment of the day is IV therapy.
Then we’re scheduled to have lunch with Max.
Then, I have actual therapy. And then I’m hoping I’ll get to go back to sleep.
I’m still in the haze of the worst hangover of my life when my favorite person walks through the front door.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” We both ask at the same time.
Matt throws a pile of mail into Gina’s waiting hands, then stalks into the living room, where Constantine and I are set up with bags of fluids by our sides.
“Dad?” He asks Connie again.
“My life is too short for this, Matthias. Move on. For everyone’s sake.” Matt scoffs at the instruction.
“I have to move on, but he doesn’t have to?” I roll my eyes, but I don’t miss how his nose slightly crooks to the right now.
“Alexander has already moved on, hasn’t he?” Connie asks, looking at me. “He has bigger issues to manage than this.” Don’t we all?
“Pretend I’m not here,” I say to Matt, leaning back and closing my eyes.
“No fucking chance of that,” Matt whispers out the side of his mouth.
“Enough,” Constantine warns. Again, I don’t care enough to do this with Matt. No use wasting energy on him. “Alexander will be staying here for the foreseeable future.”
“That’s just fucking great because I just closed on the house and need a place to stay for a bit.” Gina groans in the distance. Same.
“Well, of course, this is your home, too,” Connie says.
Jesus Christ, it’s like the fucking Brady Bunch.