Crashing Back Down Read online

  Without even drying myself, I tossed my hair up in one towel and then wrapped another around my dripping body. Looking in the mirror over my sink, I was disgusted at the black, puffy circles around my eyes, and how hollow my cheek bones were.

  Skulking back into my room, shuffling my feet along my fluffy carpet, I grabbed my makeup and turned on my flat iron. I sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the closet door mirror and began to apply eyeliner. This had become a habit from the first time I slept over at Randy's room in the fraternity house. I would always take my shower first, and while I got ready, Randy would wash up. The only place for me to be able to do my primping was on his floor, sitting Indian-style in front of a full-length mirror propped up against the wall Randy bought for me after I complained about not being able to do makeup in a fogged-up mirror.

  Once my eyes were just the perfect blend of smoky gray and black, my natural curls burned into submission, I took one last look at myself in the mirror, again disgusted with my appearance. I still felt like an empty shell. It was terrible to see on my face. The lack of sleep, improper nutrition and guilt had started to take a noticeable toll. I grabbed my blush and bronzer, blending my cheeks more to hide my uncharacteristically pale skin. One last look in the mirror, I closed my makeup kit. This is going to have to do; makeup can only hide so much.

  I rummaged through my closet, trying to find something to wear. All the way in the back, I found a dress that still had the tags on it from right after Randy got deployed. I had a lot of free time back then, and usually filled the void with shopping with Cali, mostly for things I had yet to wear. I yanked the dress off the hanger, slipped it over my head and pulled on a pair of wedges. Good enough.

  I sighed and trudged down the stairs to the freezer, taking my black-labeled savior out of his icy home. I was going to need all the help possible to put on a brave, put-together face, and whiskey was my known choice for liquid courage. Here goes nothing. I took one big, deep breath and headed out my front door.

  When my feet planted on the McManus’ front porch, a rush of warmth folded over me, almost like putting on a comfortable sweater. I always loved my in-laws, and I was truly happy I made the effort to come. Jim was hitting the big six-zero. The number had never fazed him; as he would put it, “you’re only as old as you feel.” His optimism was something I always admired, but his best feature was his laugh. He was always cracking jokes, even making himself roll on the floor from time to time. Jim had one of the best booming, barreling hoots I ever heard. He was known to cry, kick his feet up and cry hysterically during some of his fits. He was a big, burly man with a laugh that matched him pound for pound, bellowing through the huge smile he always wore.

  I couldn’t even see Jim for a while, not after everything that happened. Looking into those deep brown eyes, seeing that big grin; even through all of it, the suffering, the grieving, Jim still smiled. I figured that was his way of holding onto the last few precious memories he had with his son. They were best friends, and had identical laughs, eye, and mouth.

  As Liz opened the front door, I became wrapped into the warm embrace of lilac melted in orange cleaner. I hugged her soft body to me, telling her how beautifully her new bouncy bob hair cut complimented her face. Holding her was like taking in a breath of fresh air, her loving arms washed away my nerves for a moment. Her round eyes and pink cheeks perked up as she pulled away just enough to look into my face. “Margret, you look stunning!” She beamed, making me twirl around once for her. “It’s so nice to see you out of sweats.”

  I smiled at the accolade, looking down at my sea-foam sundress and cork wedges, “I needed to start acting and dressing the way Randy would have wanted. He was always so happy. We should be celebrating the fact that we were lucky enough to have him.” The foreign words choked out from the back of my throat. Luckily, Liz didn’t seem to notice how forced they were. I didn’t like talking that way, it wasn’t in my nature, but Liz ate shit like that up, and it was amazing to see her this happy because of my words.

  Before she formed a response, another pair of warm, familiar arms curled around my shoulders from behind, making my face light up like a little kid seeing Santa at the mall. I spun around and for a split second, I felt like I was looking into Randy’s eyes again. “Hi Papa Bear!” I threw my arms around his wide neck to whisper, “Happy birthday you old fart!” right in Jim’s ear. I couldn’t help but giggle as Jim beamed down at me, chuckling, his cheeks already turning rosy from the whiskey lingering on his breath.

  “Mags, I am so glad you came,” his voice was joyous, and his arm was still round my waist. “Look at you! This is the Mags I know and love! Happiness looks great on you.” He released me, only to fill my hand with a beer, which had been waiting on the side table. I let the amber liquid flow down my throat, praying for a little liquid courage to keep my spirits up. I loved being with my in-laws, but the way that they acted so well-adjusted freaked me out. A lot. Hopefully, the beer will start to kick in soon.

  I looked around the room at all of the familiar faces, most of which I hadn’t seen since the funeral, and before that, our wedding. The whole McManus clan was here, mingling with Jim’s work friends and some of Randy’s fraternity buddies. Since Randy lived so close to where we went to school, Liz and Jim became the second parents to any college kid looking for a hot meal, especially Walker. Even after so many years, they all knew where to come for good food, drinks and company.

  The chatter from the living room was almost deafening. Randy and I were married right in the backyard, under an awning that Jim, Walker and Randy built together. Their backyard was tight, but it felt so cozy with all of our loved ones around. I could not have imagined a more perfect day.

  I couldn’t believe it had only been a little over a year since I held so much happiness. Now I was an empty shell, and seeing everyone washed all the bittersweet memories over me again. The feelings warmed my heart and burnt my eyes all at the same time, as the memory of Randy’s funeral hit me like a ton of bricks smacking me in the face. Grieving, screaming, laughing, and crying; it was shocking how flashbacks would take over like that, throwing me for a loop. One moment remembering moments of pure bliss and the next getting run over by a dump truck filled with misery. I had to grab onto the back of the couch for balance until the terrible image finally left my mind.

  Thankfully, my attention was pulled away from the back window as Walker’s eyes met mine from across the room. He was chatting with Mitch, who looked over at me with a wave. Mitch was a sight for sore eyes. All of us had been inseparable for years, since our first meeting during fraternity rush. I held up the bottle of whiskey from my freezer, and Walker nodded with a huge grin. He headed toward the kitchen, leaving Mitch to talk to one of Randy’s aunts, since he was too nice to excuse himself and risk someone thinking he was rude.

  As I walked past the living room, following Walker’s lead, I heard Mitch telling her a story about his sheer heroism. A few months before Mitch had saved a family of four from their home engulfed in flames after the mother had fallen asleep with a lit cigarette in her mouth. Mitch was not one to boast too much but, Irena was eating it up, gasping and touching his lean arm muscles. For a lady well into her golden years, she sure could flirt and she was eating up her fire fighter man candy.

  I set the bottle on the granite and grabbed shot glasses out of the cupboard. “You look good tonight, Mags. I’m glad you came.” Walker’s deep, sultry voice wrapped around his words seductively, as he leaned back against the entrance way, smiling at me. His tight white button down and low-cut jeans were hugging his muscles in all the right places and I stopped for a moment, mid-reach, to take in the amorous sight.

  Trying to play off the chills that coursed through my entire body, I nudged him gently with my elbow. “Why does it seem like everyone is surprised I showed? I wouldn’t miss Jim’s birthday for the freaking world!”

  I looked at Walker for an answer, but he just brushed it off. “It’s great to always have
a drinking buddy at these things.” He walked the few steps over to me, wrapped me up in his strong arms and kissed my forehead lovingly, breathing in deeply as he did it.

  I left the issue alone and poured both of us shots, shoving out of Walker’s embrace reluctantly with a playful grin and crimson spreading rapidly across my face. The way my body was reacting to him being that close, in that way, scared the shit out of me. My heart hadn’t raced and my breath hadn’t caught like that in as long as I could remember, I wanted to jump in his arms and run for the hills in fear all at once. So, I did the only thing I could think to do, start to drown those feelings and emotions with alcohol.

  Our glasses met high in the air, as Walker leaned in close to whisper one of our usual cheers. “To a night that we’ll hopefully forget and to, hopefully, no brown bottle flu!” The liquor slid down my throat, burning too pleasantly. Some of the liquid spilled onto my chin, making me giggle as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “We have to do one for Jim. Get the guys!”

  Walker nodded in agreement and put one finger up, signaling me to wait for him while he covered his mouth with the other hand, still swallowing. “You pour and I will round everyone up.”

  With that, I was alone again and memories threatened to assault my whiskey drenched good mood. I heard Randy’s voice start to creep in again. “Baby, make sure you take it easy.” I shook him out of my head. Tonight was not the night to take it easy or let a ghost control my life. I needed to let loose and have a little bit of fun. I grabbed the rest of the shot glasses and poured everyone a shot full to the rim. Walker came back in with Mitch, five of their fraternity brothers, and Jim in tow.

  I lined up the shots. “Come get ‘em, guys!” I raised my glass high in the air and waited for the rest to meet mine before continuing, “To Jim, the birthday boy! May your sixties be your best decade yet.”

  Walker put his hand on mine to stop me from throwing my shot into the back of my throat just yet. My eyes widened with curiosity and he just shook his head. He filled one more shot glass and set it on the counter. “And to Randy, ‘cause he could never turn down his girl and whiskey!” My eyes locked onto Walker’s, but he just winked at me and said, “Cheers everyone!”

  We slammed our shots, chills running down our backs from the warm amber burning all the way down. All the guys laughed, then, one by one, they hugged me hello. It was wonderful to see all of them again. It had been too long.

  We continued to do more rounds of shots, draining the bottle of whiskey, and finishing the evening off with beer. The night turned into a haze of laughing, dancing, and storytelling about our drunken debauchery. By the time we got around to singing “Happy Birthday” to Jim, our song was a jumbled mess of slurred words and terrible timing. Jim didn’t seem to notice or care. He just took Liz into his arms, planting a big, wet kiss on her mouth as we finished our song with “And many more!”

  Jim and Liz might have appeared to be past their prime, but they sure knew how to party. It always surprised me how little they acted like parents, and how much they still seemed like college kids. Randy always said having cool parents was both a blessing and a curse. Their lack of discipline during Randy’s formative years was one of the contributing factors in him joining the army. He craved the structure his parents neglected to provide.

  After saying goodnight to the last of our friends, and walking them out to their cars, Walker, Mitch and I plopped on the couch, still chuckling, with whiskey and beer soaking our blood. Resting my head onto Walker’s shoulder, I exhaled in the relief of a successful party.

  “Why don’t we do this more often?” Liz was still dancing, sitting on the loveseat with one hand on Jim’s leg and the other waving in the air, her head bobbing along to the music playing in the background. “I just love to dance so much!” She hiccupped her last words, making all of us erupt into a rolling laugh. It felt so great to be free again, but a twinge of guilt hit my heart because Randy wasn’t there to share in it.

  My mind fell back to the first time I met Jim and Liz. It was a hot day, a few weeks after Randy and I had met. He told me he couldn’t think of dating someone his mother hadn’t approved of, and invited me over to dinner. The entire drive to their house, I was so nervous to meet them. With sweaty palms and shaky knees, I sat in their living room and realized I had come home. Thinking back on it, I couldn’t help but laugh at myself for ever being nervous while they were so laid back. I was pretty sure they would have loved anyone Randy brought home; I was just the lucky one it happened to be.

  Jim took his half-empty beer bottle, raising it in the air. “Son, I can only imagine you had a hand in all this. Thanks for a great birthday, man!”

  Walker looked at me, and I was sure he could see the pain building in my face. “Well, it’s getting late. Want me to walk you home, Mags?” His accent was thick with his drunkenness that I could see in his half open eyes and glossed over expression look.

  I nodded, holding in the flood of tears begging to escape from my drunken eyes.

  “I’ll be right back Mitch.” Making stern eye contact with him, Walker nudged Mitch on the shoulder. “You’re crashing here, by the way.”

  Mitch agreed easily, mumbling he knew he was too intoxicated to drive and would make the McManus' couch his bed for the night.

  Mitch had learned long ago, when Walker was assigned as his “big brother”, not to test him. It was always better to obey than try to fight him. One night, their two stubborn heads clashed over drinking and driving. It was after a long night of boozing at the fraternity house. Walker refused to give Mitch his own keys back. Mitch was so drunk, he took a swing at his big brother. The fight ended with Walker’s right hand broken with a boxer’s fracture and Mitch getting ten stitches over his right eye. Needless to say, Mitch has never second guessed Walker’s opinion on the subject again, or how strongly he was willing to defend that opinion.

  Walker extended his hand to me, helping me off the couch. I hugged both Liz and Jim, thanking them for a great night, breathing in their comforting love one last time.

  Once the goodbyes were said, Walker hooked my arm around his elbow to stabilize me for the short trek. I could feel the booze sloshing around in my stomach as we half stumbled down the front steps. Having a strong and sturdy escort was a smart move; I was clumsily unstable in my heels. I staggered a few times, making Walker’s arm flex to stop me from face-planting onto the pavement. We giggled at my drunken, ridiculous state. In a half yawn I could barely understand, Walker stated it had been a great party.

  “Yeah, it really was. It’s great to be out of my mopey darkness for a while and to have our drinking crew back together. It feels like college was a million years ago!”

  “It was for me.” Walker chuckled, making me feel like a baby even though he was barely two years my senior.

  “Oh right, I forgot you and Jim graduated together.” I jolted him with my elbow at my joke and playfully scowled at my remark. I rested my head on Walker’s arm for the next couple of steps, comforted by his presence.

  We got to my door, and hugged good night. My head fit perfectly on his chest as he bent down a bit to rest his forehead on the top of my head. “I never realized how much shorter you are than me.”

  I let out a sharp huff, “Yeah, I’m fun-sized.” As soon as the words slurred off my tongue, my entire body burned with embarrassment.

  Walker’s just laughed at my remark. “Do you want me to help you inside, Tiny?” Walker’s arm was still wrapped around my waist, stabilizing me as I fumbled with the key in the door.

  “No, I think I got it from here. Thank you, Mr. Jolly Green Giant.” I finally felt the lock pop open and smiled as the cool air-conditioning rushed out the door onto my hot cheeks. “I know I’ve had plenty to drink, but I’ll make it up the stairs just fine.” I stared into Walker’s beautiful eyes and took a moment to relish how warm and inviting they were. A shiver rushed up my spine, but I ignored it, chalking it up to the Jack Daniels.

 
Walker gave me a peck on the cheek, letting it linger longer than usual, “Sleep well, Half Pint.” He slurred, “Tonight was fun. I missed seeing you like that.” His voice turned huskier as the words trailed, letting a glint of lust flicker between us.

  Breathlessly, I watched his lips and eyes for a moment, shaking off the desire to fill the void of loneliness only when Walker turned to head back down the block. I stayed on my front porch for a few seconds, watching him walk down the dew-dampened street, wishing he would turn back around and hold me all night. He did the right thing and kept walking.

  When Walker came home from his deployment, soon after Randy’s death, the McManus’ took him in. Liz always said it was for Walker’s own good to get back on his feet there, but I always thought she did it more for selfish reasons. Walker was so much like Randy that Jim and Liz seemed to feel like it was the closest thing they could get to have their son home. Whatever the reason, I was thankful to have all three of them were so close. I knew sometimes my friendship with Walker crossed some sort of line, and Walker tried his best to balance our friendship while respecting the parents of my dead husband.

  Turning the lock to my oak front door, loneliness settled in, cuddling up with the whiskey coursing through my brain, and they were not mixing well. I barely made it to my bathroom before my entire stomach emptied. For an hour, I dry-heaved on my bathroom floor, wishing I could have had one of my famous blackouts. Instead, I remembered every minute of the sickness and my terrible, lustful longings for a man I should never want.

  Off in the distance of reality, I heard an awfully annoying buzzing noise, forcing me farther and farther from my dreamless sleep. The sound got louder in my ear until I registered that I was lying on the cold tile of my bathroom floor with my phone vibrating at me to wake up. I groggily propped myself up on one elbow, pressing the answer button just in the nick of time. “Hey Walker, what’s going on?” My voice croaked from my whiskey burnt throat, making me cough a little. My cottonmouth was unbearable and I had to force my tongue free from the roof of my mouth.