Rumors: Brianna & Hunter

by Rachael Brownell

  MEGAN: Anywhere but the mall. I hate that place.

  ALLY: I second that. Our mall sucks. I know a place. Let's meet Saturday morning at Emerson's and go from there. She lives closest.

  Everyone agrees, and just like that, I've checked one thing off my to-do list. Only a few dozen more before we leave.

  As I'm about to put my phone down, it chimes in my hand.

  ALLY: Hey. I know the ceremony is a private thing, mostly friends and family, but I was wondering if you would mind if I brought a date. You can say no, it's not a big deal. I was just thinking it would be nice to have someone to hang out with when everyone pairs up.

  ME: Sure. I'll let the travel agent know we need another ticket. Shoot me a name.

  ALLY: Let me confirm with him real quick and I'll let you know Saturday.

  Ally's bringing a date. It doesn't surprise me, but at the same time, it kind of does. She brought one to Herman's retirement party, but she basically ignored him a good chunk of the night, never introduced him to anyone, and from what I heard later on, sent him packing and caught a ride home with Megan.

  I wonder if she knows Ally is thinking about bringing a date.

  ME: Hey, Ally asked if she could bring a date to the Bahamas. Did you know she was seeing someone? Is it serious?

  MEGAN: She mentioned meeting someone new a few weeks ago. I don't know his name, but I'm pretty sure she's still seeing the same guy. You can tell her no if it makes you uncomfortable.

  ME: No, I don't care. I just wondered if this is a fling she's going to ditch 2,000 miles from home or a real relationship.

  MEGAN: Honestly, it could be either. I'll check in with her in a few days and let you know what I find out.

  Next on my list is to call my father and let him know what's going on. It's been almost a month since I've spoken to him. The last time I called, he was drunk, slurring his words so much I hung up on him.

  He's been that way since we lost my mom. I get it. If I were to ever lose Hunter, I'd be depressed too. That was eight years ago, though. He's been mourning her loss for eight years. I thought he was moving past it, healing, and then we lost my brother suddenly.

  It sent him spiraling, and he's never really recovered.

  I love my father, to the ends of the Earth, but I dread calling him. I never know what state he's going to be in. Still, I suck in a deep breath and dial, knowing that I can't wait any longer to invite him.

  "Hello."

  His voice sounds strong. He sounds sober.

  "Hey, Daddy."

  "Brianna, sweetheart. How are you? It's been a while."

  Not as long as he thinks, probably. It's still nice that he sounds genuinely excited to hear from me.

  "I know. Listen, I'm calling for a reason. Hunter and I have decided to renew our vows, and we would really like you to be there."

  The line goes silent, and then I hear him whispering to someone in the background.

  "When?" he finally asks.

  "We leave in twelve days."

  "You leave? Where are you going?"

  "We're having the ceremony on the beach in the Bahamas where we spent our honeymoon."

  "Hold on a sec, sweetie."

  I hear more whispering, and then a voice I don't recognize comes on the line.

  "Hello. Is this Brianna?"

  "Yes. Who's this?"

  "This is Dr. Burlsen." Doctor? Where the hell is my father right now? And why is he suddenly seeing a new doctor? A female doctor. "I run the facility your father is staying at. He's telling me you've invited him on a vacation in a few weeks. I need to ask you a few questions before I can release him into your care."

  "I need to ask you a few questions as well," I state firmly. "Starting with why my father is in your care, as you put it. Why does he need your permission? Why isn't he at home, sitting in the recliner my mother bought him and watching reruns of his favorite shows?"

  "Your father voluntarily admitted himself to our rehab program three weeks ago. He came to us looking for help to manage his alcoholism and depression. He's been doing great. He's gone through detox and has come out the other side a stronger person. He still has three more weeks before he can be released from the program, however. These last few weeks are critical to his success. His body may not be craving alcohol right now, but put in a compromising situation, things can change quickly. Do you understand?"

  He went to rehab. He checked himself in. He didn't call to tell me.

  He's getting help. Help he desperately needed and wouldn't accept from me.

  "How's he doing emotionally? Has he told you about my mother and brother?"

  "Yes. We talk a lot about them, actually. He's still grieving, but he's starting to make peace with their loss."

  "Is there anything I can do to help him?"

  "Not right now, but when he gets out, he'll need help staying clean. Addiction is a part of who he is. I find with alcoholics, because alcohol is readily available, they tend to fall back into their old habits easily. He'll need someone to help him focus on his new path."

  I can do that.

  I can bring him here, help him recover.

  The doctor and I discuss a number of options. He needs to attend AA meetings daily for a few weeks and then weekly for a few months. The meetings are designed to help him stay strong, to see that there are other people out there who have been where he is and were able to overcome their demons.

  After all is said and done, I decide its best not to have him attend the wedding. I don't want anything to get in the way of his recovery, and when we get back, we'll discuss moving him in with us. I need to run the idea by Hunter. It's something we've discussed before, when he was drinking heavily and alone in the house he shared with my mother. Hunter was on board back then, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t be now.

  Just to be sure…

  ME: Dad's in rehab. He's not getting out until after we get home from the Bahamas. Can you let Zane know we won't need a ticket for him?

  HUNTER: How is he?

  ME: He sounds good. His doctor says he's doing well but will need emotional support when he gets home.

  HUNTER: Are you going there for a few weeks, or is he coming to live with us?

  My husband. If there was an award for husband of the year, he'd win for sure. He's selfless and caring and everything a woman wants in a man. I'm so damn lucky he chose me.

  ME: We can talk about that later when you get home. I'm not sure yet.

  HUNTER: Zane says the tickets aren't refundable, but he can transfer it to someone else if you want.

  ME: What about him? Is he coming?

  HUNTER: Yeah. Already has his ticket.

  ME: Is he bringing a date?

  HUNTER: Not sure. I can ask.

  ME: If he's not, tell him to bring a date. Ally's bringing a date. I don't want Zane to be the odd man out.

  HUNTER: Thank God she's bringing a date. I was worried Zane would try and make a move on her.

  ME: Well, if they both have dates, it won't be a problem. See you in a little bit?

  HUNTER: I shouldn't be too much longer. I'll be there by seven at the latest. Want me to snag food on my way home?

  ME: Yes! I've been craving a toasted sub from that little place around the corner from the office. I think it's the Number 2 combo I like.

  HUNTER: It's the Number 3. See you soon. Love you.

  He knows me better than I know myself sometimes. I hope this is one of those times because I really want the spicy salami sub with ham and turkey and banana peppers. Ooh, and those jalapeño crunchy chips.

  Why am I so hungry?

  Looking up at the clock, I realize it's almost five, and I haven't eaten since breakfast. That explains it. I don't want to eat now, though. I won't be hungry for dinner if I do.

  My stomach growls at the thought of food.

  Well, maybe just a little snack.

  Heading into the kitchen, I search the pantry for something small. A granola bar or maybe some crackers. Not
hing sounds good. Opening the fridge, the first thing I notice is the open bottle of wine Hunter and I shared over dinner last night.

  That won't be something we can have around if my dad comes to stay with us. I'll have to dump it out, along with all the whiskey and scotch Hunter keeps in the minibar downstairs. I don't want him to be tempted to pour himself a glass. To break down and think 'just one' is all I'll have.

  One can easily lead to two.

  It'll break the cycle. He won't be a recovering alcoholic. He'll go back to being a drunk, and I'll be to blame.

  Maybe it's better if I go there for a few weeks. Clean out the house. Make sure he's sober and stays that way. Find him a support group. Meetings to attend.

  If he's going to get back on his feet, survive this, and move forward with his life, he has to be able to do it where he's most comfortable. In his own home. The place he raised me and my brother.

  What scares me the most is that the memories we made there, with Mom and Brice, may break him. It's been eight years since we lost Mom, five since we lost Brice, and four since I've been back there. It was too hard for me. I can't even imagine how much he struggled, on a daily basis, when everywhere he turned, he was reminded of what he lost. Of the people he loved with all his heart who were no longer there.

  Me included.

  Because of all the challenges I've been through since leaving home, the one I've never faced was the loss of my family. I focused all my efforts on my marriage, on having a baby, and moving on with my life. Maybe it's time I start dealing with some of my own demons as well.

  Chapter Nine

  Planning a vacation at the last minute is time-consuming. Even with two weeks to nail down all the details, I still feel like I'm missing something, and with only an hour before we leave for the airport, I need to figure out what it is quickly.

  Pulling my checklist from my purse, I scroll through it, reading every line. All the items are checked off. There are notes to the side with more details, confirmation numbers, etc.

  Maybe it's my imagination or nerves, but I can't seem to see what I'm missing.

  Every detail of the ceremony and reception are taken care of.

  All our day trips are planned and paid for.

  I'm packed, including my dress that I've kept hidden from Hunter for the last week.

  Shoes.

  Makeup.

  Gifts for Megan and Zane, the only two people standing up for us.

  Since I only wanted Megan as my bridal party, I made Hunter pick one person to stand next to him. He couldn't decide between his brothers so he chose Zane. Tyler and Ryder ribbed him for a few days, trying to get him to change his mind and pick his favorite brother.

  For a minute, I thought he might. Then they started pranking him at work. Stupid pranks, too, as if they were kids again. Whoopee cushion on his office chair. A rubber snake under his desk. Slime on the receiver of his phone.

  Of course, neither of them took responsibility, attempting to point the finger at the other brother so they could win. It was funny, at first, but they took it too far when they put super glue on his keyboard. I had to go up there with nail polish remover and free his middle fingers of the K and D keys.

  That was the last prank they played on him. He threatened to retract their invitations if the pranks didn't stop. Judging by the looks on their faces as he made his threat, all while I'm attempting not to rip the skin from his fingertips, they realized they crossed the line.

  Where was I? Oh yeah, gifts. For Megan and Zane and…

  Oh shit!

  I didn't get a gift for Hunter. Should I? We didn't get each other anything for our anniversary the other day because this is our gift to each other. I still feel like I should get him something. Anything. He probably bought me something. I know him. I'm sure he did.

  I can't get him something from the airport gift shop, and I'm certainly not going to find something in Nassau before the ceremony. What the hell am I going to do?

  ME: I'm a horrible wife. I forgot to get Hunter a wedding present.

  MEGAN: Aren't you leaving for the airport in like ten minutes?

  ME: YES! That's what makes this such a huge fuck up.

  MEGAN: I'm on my way to drop Amara off with Angela's mom. What can I do?

  ME: Can you stop and buy him something on your way to the airport?

  MEGAN: What should I get him? I need ideas.

  ME: I don't know. That's the problem. I was caught up in making sure everything else was perfect. I hadn't even thought about it until right now.

  MEGAN: I'll figure it out and see you at the airport.

  ME: Thank you!

  "Ready to go?" Hunter asks, dropping his bathroom kit into the suitcase.

  "Yep," I reply, popping my P. Not so much for emphasis but because I'm freaking out on the inside and it's how I cope. I make random noises that don't make sense to anyone, including myself.

  "What's wrong?"

  And apparently my husband has figured this out after ten years.

  "Nothing. I'm fine. All good here. I'm ready if you are." My words run together. I also talk fast when I'm nervous.

  "Are you worried about your dad? He's going to be fine. You'll have time to get things ready before he gets home next week. I can come with you if you want, you know. I can move things around."

  My house key. Apparently I was forgetting more than one thing.

  Instead of flying home from vacation, I'm headed straight to my dad's house to get it ready for him. I need to clean out any and all booze that he may have left behind before rehab. I'm not looking forward to it, but if I'm going to help him get his life back on track, I'm going to need to be able to get in the house.

  "What?" Hunter asks when I start shuffling through my jewelry box.

  "I need my house key. I knew I was forgetting something."

  Hunter slides up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. Instantly my body relaxes into his.

  When the storm inside me decides to rage, his strength and support is the only thing that can calm it. I felt it starting to stir, my nervousness and anxiety kicking up a notch from everything going on right now, and he must have seen it in my eyes.

  "Everything is going to be okay, you know that, right? We're going to relax on the beach, spend some quality time without friends, and then you'll go and help your dad figure everything out. Have you talked to him lately?"

  "Yeah. He sounds like he's doing good, but he doesn't have a choice. There's nothing to tempt him in there. It's when he gets out that he'll be surrounded by reasons to pick up the bottle again," I explain as I slide the house key in my front pocket, closing my eyes then saying a little prayer.

  For me. For my father.

  I don't pray to God, though. I speak directly to my mother and my brother. Asking them to watch over my father. To help him find his strength. To help him heal and move on with his life without the aid of alcohol.

  "He's on the right path, Brianna, but he's also human. There's a good chance he'll slip and end back up in the rehab facility. If that happens, he'll start from square one again, but from everything you've told me, it sounds like he wants to get clean. Alcohol is a coping mechanism for him, and he wants to stop coping with life. He wants to deal with his shit and be a better man."

  My father has always been strong. When my mother first found out she was sick, it was my father who held us all together. He took her to every appointment, took notes on what the doctors said, made sure she ate right and took her meds. He was her caregiver, and at the end of every day, he would call me and fill me in on how she was doing.

  When she had her double mastectomy and had to stay in the hospital for a few days, he fell apart for the first time. He didn't call that night, and it freaked me out. I was already stressed, my own health issues slowly coming to light about the same time, and instead of giving him time and space to decompress, I booked the first flight home.

  It wasn't long after the surgery that she really started to
go downhill. The doctors had successfully removed all the cancer in her breasts but not in time. It had spread to other areas of her body, mainly her lungs, and although chemo and radiation were an option, my mother didn't want to live the rest of her life that way. So, he took care of her the best he could. I visited as much as I could, but I still regret not being there the day we lost her. I always will because he was alone with her when she passed.

  He shouldn't have been. Someone should have been with him, but my mother refused in-home care. She wanted to die on her own terms, in her own bed, in the home she loved.

  "He's good at pretending to be strong, Hunter. He always has been. I've seen him break twice in my life. The last time, when Brice died, he never recovered. It's like he gave up the will to live. If this doesn't work, if he doesn't come out of rehab with the will to move forward, he'll head right back to the bottle for comfort."

  I feel him nod, but before he can say anything, the doorbell rings.

  Ryder and Emerson are here to pick us up. It's time to stop thinking about my father and focus on marrying my husband. Again. On the beautiful vacation that's ahead of us. Five days of fun and sun.

  Squeezing me tight before releasing me, Hunter then zips up our suitcase, and I grab the duffel bag sitting on the floor. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I smile at my husband and nod.

  "Ready," I say with confidence.

  "Let's go get married, then," he teases, a look of excitement in his eyes.

  "You do realize that you've already promised to love me for the rest of your life, right?" I retort as I walk out of the room, the doorbell ringing again.

  "You know I love you, Brianna. It's not about that. It's about the commitment. We've been through a lot already, and I'm sure there's new challenges that lie ahead of us we aren't prepared for yet. The point of all this, which was your idea, by the way, is to stand by each other’s side, to hold one another up." Stopping abruptly and turning to face him, I find Hunter grinning mischievously. "And we get to pretend we're newlyweds again. Hot post-wedding sex."