by Alison Mello
The bartender comes back with my drink and a menu. I quickly look it over and decide to have a bowl of chowder. I’m starving because I haven’t eaten much of anything today with traveling, but I’m supposed to be having dinner with Chloe shortly, so this should tide me over.
As soon as I close the menu he returns to take my order. “I’ll have a bowl of chowder please.” He nods and walks away leaving me to sip my drink and remain lost in my thoughts. There’s a TV over the bar and though I’m staring at it I’m not really watching it, or hearing it, for that matter. My head is swirling with thoughts about all I have to do to set up my new life. I need a job. I’ll have to get some civilian clothes, and I need a place to stay. Not to mention I should probably reach out to my parents, but I’m not quite ready for that yet.
The bar is filling up since it’s a Friday evening. People are flowing in for an after work drink to try and forget the shit week they’ve had. The noise pulls me away and brings me back to that awful day. I didn’t know it at the time, but I lost some friends that day. I didn’t find out until I woke up at a hospital in Germany. A tear runs down my face as I think about my dear friends, Callahan and Bailey. I quickly swipe it away and just in time. The bartender is back with my chowder. “Another shot please.” He gives me a leery look but pours it anyway. I again down it before he can hand me the salt and a lime. He takes my shot glass and I ask him to get me another rum and pineapple while I dig into my chowder. It’s delicious but it’s too bad I don’t really feel like eating anymore.
“Hey pretty lady. I’m Tony.” Some guy with messy brown hair and a cheap suit takes a seat next to me.
“Listen, Tony. I’m not in the mood for company.” I’m trying to hide my buzz, but it’s not working.
He looks at the bartender as he places my drink down and says, “Put that on my tab.”
I look at the bartender and say, “Don’t.” I turn back to the guy whose name I’ve already forgotten. “I told you I’m not in the mood for company.”
“It looks to me like you could use some company.”
I sigh. “Looks can be deceiving.” I turn away from him and continue to pick at my chowder while I watch the news. There’s something on about a robbery in Boston. Worried about Chloe and Ward I listen in to ensure there’s no news of cops being injured.
The bartender comes back over a few minutes later. “Are you going to stir your chowder or eat it?” He has a slight grin on his face.
I shrug. “I like stirring it.”
He laughs. “Well you can stop crouching over and eat. You scared him away.” I look over my shoulder, and sure enough he’s gone.
I turn back to the bartender so I can inform him I’m not a total bitch but he’s already walked away. Now I really feel like an asshole. He’s probably wondering what the hell my problem is, but to be honest, I don’t give a fuck. One of the biggest issues with the world today is that everyone judges everyone else. Walk a mile in my fucking shoes, and then judge me.
I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting here, but I do know I have two more empty shot glasses in front of me plus the drink I’ve been sipping on. I’m finally feeling good. I take in my surroundings and realize the place has gotten much busier. As I scan the room I catch Chloe walking through the door with a look of fear on her face. This is why I’m numb, so I don’t have to feel fear, maybe she needs a drink, too. “Hey, my girl is here.” I slur my words.
“There you are. Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?” She storms over to me, catching me as I’m about to tumble out of my seat.
I laugh. “I just came out for a drink.” I shake my head like it’s no big deal.
The bartender calls over. “She hasn’t paid her tab.”
“You’re a nice bartender.” I smile at him.
“And I’m glad you’re a happy drunk and you have a friend to get you home safe.” He chuckles at my silliness.
I watch as he hands Chloe my tab. Her eyes go wide, but she pulls her card from her purse, pays the tab, and drags me out of the bar. “You and I need to talk.” She huffs with frustration as we walk the short distance back to her place. The combination of her pulling on me and the salty air turns my stomach.
“Stop.” I try pulling my arm from hers.
“I will not stop. We are talking the second we get home.”
“No, stop. I’m going to be…” I pull away to vomit into the shrubs next to us. I hear Chloe sigh as she pulls my hair out of my face. She rubs my back to try and comfort me, but it’s not helping. This just reminds me of the day I found out my friends were dead. I did the exact same thing. I rolled over and emptied the contents of my stomach. Sick with regret I couldn’t save them. When I’m finally finished, I stand up to face my friend with tears streaming down my face. Tears I shed for my friends, and the nightmares that remind me of their loss.
“Come on, boo. Let’s get you home.” She puts her arm around me and helps me home, walking at a much slower pace. I can see the sympathy in her eyes. She knows a little of what I went through.
When we finally get upstairs, she makes tea and hands me some Advil that I happily take. I know I’m going to be hurting in the morning. “I’m sorry I scared you. I only meant to go for a quick drink or two and then come back to meet you.”
“Did you really only eat chowder with the four shots of tequila and five drinks?” My eyes go wide. I didn’t realize I had that much. She sighs. “I’m whipping us up something to eat.”
I follow her into the kitchen and take a seat at the snack bar. “I want you to know that I’ve been talking openly about my issues for a while, it’s just not helping.” My voice is still slightly slurred. Chloe turns to me. “I don’t want you to think I’m not doing anything. I need to find a new therapist and I know that, but it’s hard. You have no idea what it’s like…” A tear runs down my cheek. “It takes time to find the right one.” People who have never had to meet with a counselor don’t realize that you can’t just walk into someone’s office and pour your heart out. You have to click with the person.
“What happened to the one the military set you up with?”
“She sucked. I told her what she fucking wanted to hear so she would send me home.” I sip the tea she made me. Between the tea and the vomiting I’m starting to sober up. Chloe turns back to the stove to continue cooking. “How can I help? I love you, and it kills me to see you like this.”
I shrug. “Be patient with me.”
“I can do that but know I’m also going to be on your ass to get this therapist set up and get you squared away.” She turns back to me. “It’s for your own good.”
“I want to get better. I don’t want to live my life like this.” I get off the stool and go straight to my friend. I wrap my arms around her and cry, it’s a horrible ugly cry, but I needed it. I haven’t let it all out, not once, since I found out that I lost my comrades, my friends, months ago. I held it all in, pretending like I was fine, pretending like I don’t blame myself for not saving them.
“I got you, boo.” She holds me while I let it all out. It feels good to cry.
I sniffle. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Do you think you can eat?”
“Yeah, I’m already feeling better.” What Chloe doesn’t realize is we got our hands on alcohol all the time. We drank often to forget the shit we saw over there. This isn’t my first rodeo with alcohol.
“Good, what do you say you let me finish making us some dinner?”
I giggle as I wipe my face. “Sounds good. I’m starving.
“I’m sure. You only ordered a cup of chowder.”
“What’s up with your new partner? He’s a hottie!” I need to change the subject. I no longer want to think about my friends or the fact I got wasted tonight.
She chuckles but never turns away from the eggs she’s cooking. “He’s a cool guy. He’s sweet, friendly, strong, and single.” She stresses the word single. “I actually think you two would be good together.
“I don’t know that I’m ready for a relationship, but I can tell you I’m ready to get my world rocked. It’s been far too long since I’ve had my brains fucked silly.” She bursts into laughter.
“You have such a potty mouth.” She laughs. I love Chloe, but she’s a bit opposite of me. I have zero filter, and she’s a good girl who always watches what she says.
“You spend almost a year overseas surrounded by men that you have to prove yourself to and see how you sound.”
Her head whips around with her eyebrows raised, as if to say, really? “I do that on a daily basis. Don’t for one minute act like I don’t know what it’s like to have to prove yourself to a man. I’m a fucking cop.” Now it’s my turn to laugh. Chloe may be a cop but she doesn’t cuss like one. She was raised with brothers, who swear like drunken sailors, but her mama would seriously fuck her shit up if she was caught speaking that way.
“Ha, you said ‘fucking’. I’m going to call your mama.”
She laughs and flips me off. “You’re such an ass, but I’ve missed the hell out of you.” She puts a plate in front of me.
“I’ve missed you, too.”
The rest of our night is a mishmash of catching up, girl talk, and me recovering from my drunken disaster.
“Good morning, Roberta.” I walk into the office signing in as I do every other Friday morning.
“Good morning, Mr. Ward.” She gives me a warm smile. “Dr. Miranda will be with you shortly.”
“Thanks.” Roberta has to be one of the sweetest ladies I know. She is so caring, and always greets everyone like she’s having the best day of her life. I take a seat in the small waiting room, choosing my usual seat next the fish tank. I think this tank is so cool and at some point I want to set one up just like it. There’s a variety of fish in it and it’s really colorful.
“Good morning, Keegan.” Dr. Miranda’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. There’s something about watching those damn fish swim that is so calming to me.
I turn to face her. “Good morning.” She holds the door open for me and I take a seat in the comfy leather chair she has set up by the window. As usual I sit and stare watching the world pass by below. One thing about Boston it’s always busy. There’s always hustle and bustle on the streets. I grew up right here in Charlestown, and I love it. The energy here is amazing.
She sits with her tablet on her lap, dressed very professional. Her hair is pulled up, her makeup done to perfection. If I had judged this book by its cover, I never would have started speaking with her. Despite her snobby appearance she’s actually very sweet and easy to talk to. “How has your week been?”
I give her my typical shrug.
She chuckles. “Let’s go over once again how this works. I ask questions and you answer them,” she says with humor.
I turn to her with a small grin. “My week was fine. My new partner is awesome. She has a roommate now. I met her last week when we picked her up at the airport.” A smile spreads across my face.
“What’s she like?”
I think back to her walking down the hall at the airport. She was wearing her long dark brown hair pulled back into a braid. The smile that spread across her face when she spotted her friend would light up anyone’s world. When she approached us, our eyes connected, and I was blown away, they were the most amazing blue I’ve ever seen. “She’s a combat veteran. Medic. She’s average height, brown hair, blue eyes. She’s beyond pretty.” I shrug it off, acting like I didn’t feel the instant connection that was there when we shook hands.
“Your reaction to the question tells me you think she’s more than pretty.” Her brows are raised and she has a bit of a cocky grin on her face.
I chuckle. I forget this woman can read me like an open book. “All right, she gorgeous, but I can’t get the troubled look on her face out of my mind. She looked so lost, until she spotted Chloe. Then her face lit up. Her expression and body language completely changed.” It was amazing to see two friends come together like that. The love they share for one another was radiating from them as they hugged it out.
“I’m willing to bet as a medic she’s probably seen some pretty nasty stuff.” She jots down some notes on her tablet. “How have your nightmares been?”
“They’re fine. I haven’t had one in a while.” It’s true, too. It took me awhile to get over losing my last partner. Martinez and I were close. We were more than partners we were friends. Maybe not as close as Chloe and Lexi but friends all the same.
“And your mom?”
My head whips around and my eyes narrow. She knows I despise discussing my mother. “She’s still a junkie,” I snap.
“Why do you hate discussing this so much?”
I exhale a deep breath. “Because there’s nothing to discuss.” My words are harsh. “She’s a junkie. She put me through hell and is the reason I became a cop.” I run my hand through my thick hair, trying to calm myself. “What more is there to discuss? She doesn’t deserve any room in my mind.”
“If it’s not a big deal, then why are you so agitated?” Her voice is always so calm, and sometimes it really annoys me.
I look back out the window, trying to debate the answer to her question. Why does this annoy me so much? “I just want to move on with my life.” I growl.
“I don’t think you can until you come to terms with who she is and why she upsets you. You say it’s nothing, but I don’t believe you. There’s something you’re not sharing, and it’s not helping your situation.”
“I don’t really know what to tell you. My mother is a junkie and my father is dead. Shot in the back, remember?”
“I remember. Do you think you resent your mother? Your father is dead because of her addiction, correct?” I nod, but say nothing more. “Our time is about up, but I think you need to spend some time journaling this week over how you feel about that. You may not want to admit it but you struggle with your mom, and I think it’s because you lost your father to her addiction. Then you lost your partner because of a junkie. I think it’s all hitting too close to home.” She shrugs. “You yourself almost died because of the same junkie. You need to figure out how to face this.”
“I’ll think about it.” I stand with a smile happy this session is over. “Since my time is up, I’ll see you next week.”
She stands shaking her head. “You always amaze me. Are my sessions that bad?” I look at her with confusion. “You go from miserable to chipper in two seconds flat when you notice your session is over.”
“It’s never you, doc, always me,” I respond with a grin.
“That is not a comforting thought.” She looks at me dead serious.
I show her my confident smile and walk out the door. I meet with her because I’m required to, not because I need to. My Captain forced me into therapy when I lost my partner, who was shot dead by a strung out junkie. I was shot as well, but he only hit my shoulder, it was through and through. I healed quickly and was told as long as I seek counseling I could return to duty. Don’t get me wrong, opening up the little I have about my past has helped a bit and I’m glad my nightmares have finally disappeared, but it’s not a pleasant day when I have to relive my horrible past. My childhood was not an easy one. I was lucky enough that I had some seriously caring teachers who got me involved in some after school programs that kept me out of trouble. When I was in middle school, one of my teachers was involved in the D.A.R.E program. She knew my mom was hooked and asked me to help her with it after school one day. I got to meet some cool cops, and decided from that point on I wanted to be a Boston cop. I worked hard to stay in good shape all through high school so I wouldn’t have any problems passing the physical part of the exam, and I’m glad I did, because I love what I do.
I pull up to the gym and quickly find a spot to park. This is my stress relief. I work out daily, hitting the machines hard. I walk through the door to find my boy Devon already here. “Hey, D. How’s it going, my man?” He grabs my hand and pulls me into a qui
ck man hug slapping my back.
“You ready to get it done?”
“Hell yeah. Let’s do it.”
An hour and a half later we were walking out of the gym covered in sweat but I feel good. “You coming to mine for something to eat?” I ask D.
“Yeah, what are you making?”
“Chicken stir fry.” I throw my bag into the trunk of my car.
“Sweet. I miss your cooking.” He winks at me and runs off to his car.
Devon and I have been on the force together for about fifteen years. We became roommates a couple of years after we started working together. He only recently moved out. He’s a good guy, and we got along really well, so I was sad when he told me he was moving in with his boyfriend. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy the guy’s in love. He found himself a good man. Jayce is a lot of fun and he treats him right.
He pulls up right behind me and we ride the elevator to my apartment. “Hey, you mind if I shower?”
I give him a look like he’s crazy for asking. “Come on, man.”
“I know, but it’s your place now.”
I shake my head as I unlock the apartment door. “Go for it. What time do you have to meet up with Jayce?”
“Not until later.” He walks into the bathroom with his bag. I start pulling things from the fridge to get dinner together. I grab a beer and crack it open. I love to cook. I have peppers, onions, and fresh pineapple for this stir fry and it is going to be seriously bomb. I start slicing everything up and toss the veggies into my huge wok along with some oil, garlic, and seasonings. It already smells really good in here.
“If you were gay, I would have never left. That smells awesome.” He grabs a beer from the fridge and takes a seat at the snack bar.
I can’t help but laugh. “I love you like a brother, man, but sorry, that’s as far as it goes. I like pussy far too much.”