by Jenny Wood
“Sorry, baby, it’s mine," he leans heavily on me, reaching over my body and grabbing his phone. It’s a random number, not one saved in his phone, but he answers it anyway.
“Hello?” Gannon grunts, his head leaning against my shoulder as he answers. I can vaguely hear the voice on the other end and it sounds like they say, “Can you let me in, man? I’m outside," Gannon’s head shoots up and he drops his phone, jumping over me and swiping the first thing he sees off the floor and pulls it on. The sweats were his but the shirt is mine, but I don’t mind. It’ll swallow him up, but I like the idea of him in my clothes.
“What’s going on? Who was it?” I ask, my brain finally catching up with me. It’s still dark and doesn’t feel like it’s time for me to get up yet. My alarm hasn’t gone off yet.
“Cruz and Wade, they’re out front.”
“Fuck, is it your mom?” I ask, jumping out of bed and finding clothes for myself. The only reason the police visit you in the middle of the night is if someone’s hurt or you’re being arrested. Since Gannon is a law-abiding citizen, I have to assume that someone is hurt.
“They didn’t say, baby. I hope not," Gannon stands at the foot of the bed, looking scared. I pull on a shirt and pull him to me for a quick hug and I kiss the side of his head before leading us out of the bedroom.
“Go answer the door, I’ll put on coffee," he doesn’t waste time and I can hear the low murmurs of the men walking through the door and into the living room. When I hear Gannon’s distressed voice, I abandon the coffee and join him in the living room. Whatever this was about, I know it isn’t good.
Gannon
“Hey, man. Sorry to barge in on you like this, but I didn’t think you’d want me to wait," Cruz says, walking in when I open the door to invite them in. He gives me a pat on the back as I reach out and shake the offered hand Wade’s holding out.
“Sorry to have to do this, man. Can we sit?” I have a sinking feeling in my gut and I just know that something is bad wrong. It’s my mom, I just know it. The guys wouldn’t come to me in the middle of the night for anyone else. Shade and my mom, and Shade’s here, so I know it isn’t him.
“Can I get you some coffee or something to drink?” I ask, really hoping that Shade hurries with it, so he can come in here and hear whatever it is they’re about to say. I have a feeling my mom is dead.
“No, thank you.”
“Nothing for me, thanks," they say in unison and I look to Cruz to see if I can read his face at all. He isn’t looking at me.
“Alright, so, first things first,” Wade starts, gaining my attention. “We got a call last night around nine, that a burglary was in progress. Not a hold-up or anything, just a subject trying to open an unattended register at the department store,"
“When trying to access a register, if you fail at too many attempts, it locks it and you need a key to override it,” Cruz continues this part, apparently. “When she kept trying, it set off an alarm and alerted police. Unfortunately, man, it was your mom.”
“She was pretty out of it, I don’t think she realized what was going on. It seemed as though she was just trying to open a box. Even when we got there and identified ourselves, she didn’t seem too concerned. I had to take her in, man. The depot is pressing charges," apparently, they’re taking turns telling this story and though it sucks and seems like a shitty night for my mom and law enforcement, it doesn’t warrant the look on both of their faces.
“What’s the bad part?” I ask, wanting to get it all out and over with. “Just tell me the worst of it, please.”
“Hey, guys, can I get anyone something to drink?” Shade. He’s here. I turn to look behind me and whatever he sees has him rushing to my side. Sitting beside me, he takes my hand and holds it between his.
“Sorry, Shade, it’s about Gannon’s mom. I need to ask if it’s okay if we share what happened?” I’m nodding before he can finish.
“We’re engaged.”
“No shit. Congratulations, man!” Wade says, excitedly.
“Congrats, guys. I totally called it,” Cruz winks at me and slaps Shade on the knee before his morose mood overshadows our good news. “The thing is, Shade, is, we picked Ms. Holly up around nine-thirty last night and took her in. As I said, she was out of it, so we put her in a holding cell and I called over to Madison Memorial to see if someone could check her out, just make sure she was okay. She didn't exhibit any signs of overdosing or even being sick. I didn’t smell alcohol or anything and she didn’t answer when I asked what she’d taken.”
“Jay called and said that there was a car rolled over out on Riverside Road, and all three of their trucks were out on that call, so, it was going to be about an hours wait, so, I gave your mom a check over and made she was okay. I planned to call you this morning, but didn’t want to wake you until I had her checked out and could give you the all-clear.”
“When we put someone in the drunk tank, we’re supposed to do checks every half hour and make sure they’re conscious and coherent, so we were taking turns about every 20-30 minutes. She seemed okay, just high, but gave us a verbal confirmation every time and she was laying down on a cot with a blanket. Everything seemed fine.”
“When I went to do a check around four, she’d covered herself up but I noticed blood. I called for Wade to open the door and when I uncovered her, I saw that she had taken a blade and sliced her arms up pretty good.”
“What?” I blurt out, not at all thinking that this was where this was going. “Cut her arms or slit her wrists?”
“We think, probably both,” Cruz answers, sympathetically.
“Well, what the fuck? Is she okay? Is she dead? Where is she?” I didn’t realize I stood up until Shade put his arms around me. I also hadn’t realized I’d yelled until Shade was trying to calm me. My chest is heaving and I can’t draw a clean breath. I’m panicking. Did they say if she’s dead?
“Hey, look at me. Breathe," Shade instructs me, hands on my face and taking deep breaths along with me. “Good, breathe in again and try to hold it. Now let it out, slowly. Good.”
“Is she at Madison Memorial? Can we see her?” Shade asks, enveloping me in his arms and holding me to his massive fucking chest. Had anyone else tried to hold me together right now, it wouldn’t have fucking worked. I need him. Hadn’t I told him that? We were put on this fucking earth for each other.
“She is and I was asked to inform you to ask for a Dr. Su. He’s your mom's doctor at the moment and can answer any of your questions. If y’all wanna ride with us, we can take you," Wade answers as Cruz hovers close. I can tell he’s worried.
“I’ll drive, I wouldn’t want you having to wait on us. Thank you though," Shade says and I vaguely remember shaking both of their hands as Shade thanks them again for coming to let us know. He promises to call Cruz later and update him.
Getting ourselves presentable isn’t hard at a little after four in the morning. Shade said he messaged Husdon, Tallon, Nash, and Shea to let them know that neither of us would be in today. Shea tried to ask questions, but Shade said that he would update her when we knew what was what.
The hospital is quiet and Shade does all of the talking. He asks for Dr. Jin Su and then guides me to a private waiting area to wait. He never lets go of my hand.
When the doctor shows up, Shade again does all of the talking. He asks all the right questions and I’m left feeling more confused.
“Mr. Butler, has your mother seen anyone regarding her mental health?” he asks. Of course, she hasn’t. She doesn’t have insurance. I didn’t realize I said that out loud, but he only nods in understanding.
“I’d like to talk to you a little bit about what I think is happening here. I understand that I’m not your mother’s doctor and I don’t know her very well, but judging by what I know as of right now, I want to talk to you about excessive long-term drug use and the side effects of schizophrenia and delusions," He goes on to explain about paranoia and delusions, rapid mood swings and manic states th
at often times trigger the delusions or states of extreme paranoia. He explains that many patients with untreated mental health issues often try to self-medicate with drugs and alcohol, making the cycle endless and only getting worse. He asks questions about her day-to-day, many of which I can’t answer, because I simply don’t know.
The lacerations on her arms are mostly superficial but there were a few that required stitching up. It was likely that she’d have significant scarring, especially on her left arm, as her right arm was stronger to cut through her skin. I had to ask him to stop there.
“With your permission, I’d like to order a psychiatric evaluation and keep her under observation for a couple of days. I understand that she got into some trouble tonight and the officer I spoke with described her demeanor quite troublesome. I’m wondering if she has underlying issues and I’ll be honest, I’m concerned about the condition she may have manifested over time through excessive drug use. I’d really like to get her treated for those things if my assumptions are correct.”
“Yeah, anything you need to do to help her. I’ve tried just about everything," I agree, hoping so badly that this will be the break that she needs. Dr. Su seems hopeful.
They let us see her for a few minutes before we leave, though Dr. Su said that she was likely to be pretty out of it for the next twenty-four hours or so due to needing to be sedated when they brought her in.
“She looks so fucking tiny, doesn’t she? Littler than she did when we just saw her two days ago,” I say to Shade, who’s standing just behind me, offering me his silent and strong support while I hold mom’s hand.
“She does, but sweetheart, I feel like this is the best place for her. Don’t you? Where she can be evaluated and checked for things that would make a lot of sense, considering her history. Maybe they can help her where the other places couldn’t. You know?” I rub mom’s hand with my the tips of my fingers and hope she can at least feel some of my warmth and know that I’m here.
“Mom, if you can hear me, I want you to hang on, okay? Fight to get better, I truly think that these folks can help you. And you’re strong, I’ve seen it. I know that you can beat this if you try," I step closer and lean down to kiss her cheek. It’s something I haven’t done in decades. “Please try, mom. I love you."
We stay until the nurses come in and kick us out. It is nowhere near visiting hours, the sun isn’t even out yet. Shade drives us home and sits me at the kitchen bar, making me some toast and jelly with a giant glass of chocolate milk. I feel like a kid when he tries to feed it to me, but fuck, I love this man so much. He wants to take care of me.
After eating, he strips me of my clothes and guides me back to my bed where he curls up behind me and holds me close.
“What would you think about moving in here?” I ask, needing him to be right where he is, every night for the rest of our nights. “I don’t want to spend a night without you beside me. I’ll move to your apartment if you want, but I’ve got a mortgage on this place for the next-“
“Hush,” he interrupts me, dropping a kiss to the back of my neck. “I love this place. I always have. I’ll start bringing my stuff over tomorrow, okay?” I nod, scooting my back into him to be closer to his warmth, he only holds me tighter.
“Things are going to be okay, I have a good feeling about it,” he says, making me feel a little bit better, even if he was lying.
“I love you,” I turn my head and to look at him, “For the rest of my life, I’m gonna love you.”
“I’m counting on it.”
Epilogue
Gannon
September 2019
Four Months Later…
31 years old
“Will you hurry your ass up! You’re going to be late!” Jody bellows down the tiny corridor of the little country church where Jay is pinning the flower to my suit jacket in one of the little rooms we were offered.
“Jody! No swear words in a church!” Morgan scolds him, running around like a maniac with a bouquet of white daisies in his hands.
“I look like a penguin. I don’t like this. Remind me again why we couldn’t do this at your house, you know, by the water?” I complain, loving the idea of getting married, barefoot in the sand, sans monkey suit. “Also, I’m not carrying those," it’s bad enough I’m wearing the suit and we’re in a traditional Christian church.
“Because, you giant ass baby, the water is up due to the storms we’ve had recently," Kayson comes in, slapping me on the back of the head before spinning me around to face him, so he can fix my already straight tie.
“Kayson, seriously?” Morgan gripes over another swear word. “God is going to smite y’all. Knock it off!”
“Get off me, you’re making it worse,” I bat Kayson’s hands away just as Kingsley came in to take over.
“Stop messing with my tie!” I try to sidestep him but his hands are quick as they grab me.
“She isn’t here,” Kingsley says, gazing into my eyes to gauge my reaction as if he was waiting on me to cry or something. In all likelihood, I knew she probably wouldn’t. When mom was released from the hospital, she stayed gone for a little over two months. I’m not sure where she went or who she was with, but she showed up one stormy night in October and passed out on our front porch… again.
When Shade woke her up, he tried to get her to come inside and she broke out the front window. It was clear that she was on something and she proceeded to scream the house down. When she lit a match and threatened to throw it on the couch, Shade called me, and I told him to call the police. Wade came and picked her up and she spent the weekend in jail. I didn’t know what to do for her anymore and everything I had tried was for nothing. I’d keep trying. I’d never give up on her, but, I wasn’t doing it at the expense of my soon-to-be husband or my sanity anymore. She was going to have to help herself a bit too. So far, she hadn’t.
“It’s okay. As long as Shade’s here," King’s eyes get huge as he looks away from me, causing my heart to fall in my chest. “Shade’s not here?”
“Don’t be a dick! Yes, he’s here! He’s already at the alter, so hurry your ass up!” Jody pops his head in to say.
“Jody!” Morgan tries again, but everyone seems to be ignoring him. I snag his arm when he walks past and make him stop and look at me. He’d done an amazing job making this small and simple, yet gorgeous for the pictures he convinced us we’d always want to have. Everything is creamy white and silver and it matched perfectly with the light wood and white pews of the church. I couldn’t have done any of this without him.
“Thank you for making this beautiful for us,” I say, loving this big group of insane but lovable guys.
“I’m honored you let me,” he replies, “should we go get you married now?” I nod, a little bit nervous and a whole lot excited. Had someone told me when I was six years old, that I’d be marrying my next-door neighbor or that he’d spend twenty-five years with me as my best friend, and the rest of my years as my husband? I’d have called them, whack-ass-crazy. How grateful I am that it’s happening, though.
When the guys all leave to take their seats, I stand at the end of the aisle and watch as the hulking man at the other end turns towards me and smiles. My best friend, my soulmate, my husband. My forever.
The end
(Until Hudson)
©September 11th, 2019
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