Without You Here (22 page)

"I don't think he'd want us to do that," Stan said.

Charles nodded vehemently.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Liza muttered.

"Seriously, Mom, just throw a blanket over him."

"It'll kill his neck, sleeping in that position."

"It's better than face down in the mud at the cemetery," Charles replied.

In the end, Liza lost the battle. She tossed an old blanket on him and kissed him on the forehead.

Blake had hovered in the background and was now leaning in the door, watching his father sleep. Liza put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry you have to see him this way."

Blake shook his head. "I'm angry. And disgusted. And afraid. I guess I'm just at the point I wish he'd either man-up and get help. Or else just pull that trigger." Suddenly he choked back a sob and looked away. "I can't believe I just said that. What kind of a person says something like that?"

"I've thought the same exact thing, Blake. It's so hard watching him do this to himself. I just want it to end and...and I think sometimes...maybe it would be better if...." she couldn't finish.

Blake sighed. "Maybe I should gift wrap Ettie for him. You think he'd be happy with her?"

Liza chuckled. "That's very generous of you. But I think he has some things to work out, first, before he can get involved with her."

He turned his gaze on her. "So you do think I should bow out of this? Get out of their way?"

Liza sighed. "I think if he decides to get his life together, then Ettie will be a perfect companion for him."

Blake looked nauseated as he stared at his dead-drunk dad. "It's just so weird. And wrong. If it were anyone but Ettie, I'd be so devastated. But she's...unconventional. And she's caused me so much heartache already I'm kind of not surprised. I mean, I'm surprised at him. But it's par for the course for her."

Liza patted him on the back, pleased with how well and fast he seemed to be bouncing back. Now if they could only get Wyatt on the right track.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

I reckon I was incoherent the entire drive back home. Lauren just kept saying, "I know," and, "I'm so sorry," and, "There, there. A good night's sleep will clear things up." I'm pretty sure she wasn't actually listening to my words, just my sobs.

Oddly, though, I was mostly crying from exhaustion. I'd built up Blake's reaction in my mind enough that it didn't really startle me. He pretty much did and said exactly what I imagined he would. And yeah, it hurt, but I was so emotionally spent from dealing with Wyatt that it was actually kind of a relief to have it over. Now all I wanted was to go home, take a hot bath, indulge in some ice cream and just decompress.

I ended up sleeping in Lauren's bed. We watched our favorite movies and fell asleep with the TV on. But sometime in the night, she woke me up. She shook me gently by the shoulder. I opened my eyes, which were thick from all the crying. "What?" I groaned.

"I can't sleep due to a guilty conscience."

I rolled back over and closed my eyes. "Oh, God. Did you sleep with Blake's dad, too?"

"No, nothing like that. But--“ 

I snapped to attention, then, sitting up on my elbows. I whispered. "Did you sleep with Blake?"

Her eyes went wide. "No! I would never do that to you, Ettie! I just...he kissed me."

"When?"

"This afternoon...I mean, yesterday afternoon."

I grinned. "Did you like it?"

"What? Ettie, no, of course not. I—“

"Really? Blake's a good kisser. How could you not like it?"

"Because you're my best friend and I couldn't betray you like that."

"Oh, pooh. Go for it, Lauren. I was his rebound all along, anyway. He's always wanted you."

Lauren blinked. "That's not true—“

"Quit trying to spare my feelings. I'm happy for you, Lauren. Don't let that kiss be the end. Let it be the beginning. Because you and Blake would be perfect for each other. And because it would really take the focus off of my colossal fuck-up."

Lauren fell back on her pillow and laughed, then. "I love your lack of tact."

"No you don't. You're always snapping at me to control my tongue. Just like Blake. A couple of prudes. You're perfect together."

Lauren sighed up at the ceiling. "I don't want to like him. He's just a little over-confident."

"Yeah, you like a man you can dominate. But you'll never be happy with one long-term. Blake challenges you. It'll be good for you."

"Unfortunately, I think you're right."

We laughed and chatted a little more and I fell asleep thinking that the drama in my life was over for a while.

The phone call the next morning proved otherwise. Lauren was gone, probably out getting breakfast and coffee for us. I picked up on the third ring. "Hello?"

I was greeted with a sigh. "Is Lauren there? I'd rather talk to her." Blake. I smiled.

"She stepped out. Want me to have her call you back?"

"No. Dad tried to kill himself last night."

There was no sound but the electric silence of the phone. Dread that tasted like bile and chilled like all my worst nightmares wrapped its hand around my throat.

Blake broke into the eternal moment. "Actually, I don't know if he tried, but I know he went out there with the intent. Grammy found him at Mom's grave, passed out drunk with a gun in his hand. In the pouring rain. He's sleeping it off in the bathtub right now."

Tears streamed down my cheeks.

"I don't know why I'm telling you, Ettie. I guess I'm trying to spread the guilt around. I mean, I can't take the blame for all of his depression, but I was definitely the one who pushed him over the edge."

I pulled myself together and struggled to keep my voice steady. "Not your fault. He was going to break down eventually. Maybe this will...I don't know...open his eyes or something."

"Yeah. Well. I hope so. I just thought you might want to know."

"Thank you. And I know I don't have any right to ask it, but could you keep me up to date? I won't see him again, I swear. I'd just like to know how he's doing. At least until he gets back on his feet. If he gets back on his feet."

He was silent for a long moment. Then he said, "We're going to have a sort of family intervention. Here tomorrow or the next day...whenever he gets rested up. To sort of insist he go to therapy. You should come."

"Oh," I said. I appreciated him inviting me. So much. "Gosh. I don't think he'd like to have me there. He wouldn't want me to see him like this. He'd consider it a weakness and he wouldn't like me seeing him weak."

"Wow. You really did get to know him. Yeah, you're right. But on the other hand, your support could really help influence him. And maybe a little humbling would be good for him. He thinks going to therapy is a sign of weakness, but he doesn't see that it's the opposite. Doing what he's doing, wallowing in his pain, refusing to move on...that's the weakness. So if you come, maybe you can help him see that."

I wasn't sure I had the strength to do something like that. I mean, it was more likely I'd fall apart and make a spectacle of myself and then Wyatt wouldn't get the attention he needed. "How about give me a call when you get the details worked out. Because I'm so...just so tired, right now. I'm not sure how useful I could be to you."

"Alright. Well...let me put it this way. I want you to come. I think you need to be there. But if you can't do it, I understand."

"Okay. I'll do my best, Blake." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. That he wanted me there. But then, he loved his Dad. And if he truly thought my being there would help, Blake was definitely the kind of man who could swallow his pride and do what was best for someone else.

"And Ettie," he said. "I can't apologize for all the mean shit I said to you yesterday because...well...you kind of deserved it, and I'm still mad. But that's just it. I'm mad. Insulted. Really confused. Nothing I won't get over. And nothing you haven't made me feel before. Though not on this grand of a scale."

I couldn't help laughing. He was so clinical in his emotional assessment of himself. "God, Blake, I'm sorry. And you're so wonderful. Way too good for me."

"Yeah, yeah. Look, I don't want to talk anymore. I just wanted to let you know what was going on. I'll call back with an update later, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you so much. Bye."

"Bye."

Lauren came home a few minutes later with muffins and lattés, because she's awesome like that. I didn't want to think about Wyatt. I wanted it all to be over. But I ended up thinking about him all day. I would have with or without Blake's call.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Wyatt woke up in the wee hours of the morning, extremely disoriented, to find himself in a bathtub. It took him a while to realize whose bathroom he was in. When he did, he curled himself into a more comfortable position, tucked some of the blanket beneath his head, and fell back asleep.

Late into the morning, his mom woke him up. There was a skylight window letting in an abusive amount of sunshine. He squinted up at Liza.

"I brought you some clothes from your house," she said. Actually, it was more like she screamed at him. "Get yourself showered and put them on. Then you can eat and go back to bed if you want."

She left, shutting the door, though it may as well have been slammed. He crawled up out of the tub, his bones creaking, his muscles tight and aching. It took him ages to strip out of his clothes. But the effort was worth it when the hot water streamed over his body and loosened his muscles. He stood under the hot spray for twenty minutes.

Finally, he decided he was too hungry to put off leaving the bathroom any longer. He dried off and dressed in the pajama pants and t-shirt his mom had brought. It made him feel like a mental patient, wearing pajamas this late in the morning. He would run home and get some jeans. There was work to be done.

He went downstairs and followed his nose into the kitchen. He smelled bacon and pancakes. His favorite. He sat at the bar. Liza slid a plate stacked high with pancakes in front of him. He ate in large bites, downing huge gulps of milk in between. There was coffee, which he also sipped. And when he was done, he felt tired again. Too tired. So tired that nothing seemed to matter.

"Go on up to bed," she said.

"I got chores."

"Your dad and brother have it handled. You done slept past most of them anyway. Go on, now."

He didn't argue further. He went back up and slept. And when he wasn't sleeping, he was laying there, sometimes with his eyes closed; sometimes with them opened. Staring at the wall in front of him. Watching the daylight fade into night. Watching the night, ease into the blue black of pre-dawn. Covering his face against the harsh, noontime rays. Inhaling the lingering scents of Ettie from when she’d slept here. What seemed like years ago. Had he really been with her? That sprightly, young woman with the gorgeous body and the long, sunny hair; that girl who had, for a moment, brought a glow into his soul, a light into his life that he couldn't remember ever having experienced before?

It seemed merely a dream. And then a nightmare when he remembered the look of betrayal on his son's face. He closed his eyes again and slept.

He'd lost track of time when he awoke to find his mom sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing his hair off his forehead like when he was a kid and sick. "How are you feeling, sweetie?" she asked.

"Hungry," he croaked.

"Good. Come on down and I'll feed you."

She left. Wyatt slowly sat up and swung his legs out of bed. She'd been keeping him supplied with water and the occasional snack, so that he hadn't had to leave the bedroom in a while. He wasn't sure how long he'd been there. It was strange to have completely lost track of time like that. He shuffled downstairs, intending to head to the kitchen, but stopped when he stepped into the living room.

His whole family was there. They were seated in sort of a circle. The chairs from the dining room had been brought in. Stan, Diane, and Cecily sat on the sofa, with Rick in a chair next to them. Jesse and Alex sat in chairs on the opposite side of the sofa. Blake was next to them, staring down at the floor. Charles sat in his usual arm chair. Wyatt saw the old recliner was free. So he shrugged and sat down. Liza came in and perched on the arm of Charles' chair.

Wyatt looked around in confusion and then up at his mom. "Aren't we having breakfast?"

She smiled sadly. "It's three in the afternoon, baby."

He frowned. "Well...what are we doing. Are we playing a game or something?"

Liza looked to Charles. Charles shook his head.

Wyatt laughed. "Okay...so, what the hell are you all doing here in the middle of the week?"

"It's Saturday, Dad," said Blake.

Saturday? Had he been in bed an entire week? He leaned back in the chair, feeling a little dizzy.

Just then, the sound of tires on gravel had everyone's heads turning. Blake sighed and stood. "That'll be Ettie." He went to the door and opened it. A moment later she burst in and gave Blake a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Then she swept into the room and the whole place seemed immensely brighter with her in it.

"Gosh, sorry, guys," she said, breathless. "I know I'm late. I never drove here myself before and I kept getting lost."

Liza pulled a chair over from the dining room and Ettie perched on the edge. She tucked the skirt of her yellow sundress beneath her thighs. Wyatt couldn't help but wonder if she was wearing underwear. It brought a little smile to his lips.

She ducked her head and said, "My eyes are up here, Mister."

He lifted his gaze from her legs and then grinned. Any sense of foreboding he felt at seeing everyone gathered like this, vanished. "Hey, we should go outside and get up a game of football, or something." He'd sure love to tackle Ettie. Of course, it would be rather inconsiderate to Blake.

"Dad, we've got a reason for being here like this," Blake said, his expression stern.

Wyatt stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles. "Okay. What?"

Diane leaned forward. "Wyatt, we all wanted to come here and talk to you about making some changes."