I remembered standing on the front porch and watching the door open slowly. Great Aunt Ada probably thought she was going to look down at me but I was already taller than her.

“You got some respect, son?” she asked me.

“Yes,” I said.

“Good. I’ll give it to you once this time. After that, you earn it.”

She was far too old to be taking care of me. But she worked her ass to make it happen. It was weird for me. To have someone care. To have someone check in on me, ask me about life, yell at me when I got out of line. And she wasn’t afraid to give me a little smack when I needed it here and there.

She popped into my mind as I washed my hands in a sink at a local dive bar. I watched the blood gush from my knuckles. It had been a minute now and I was still bleeding. Leave it to Night to pick a damn fight when we snuck into a bar and didn’t get carded. We had free range to play. Sit at the bar, order a drink, hit on women. Real women. See where the night would go.

Something happened and I didn’t get a chance to figure it out. One second I was sitting there sipping a beer and the next second I heard a commotion and turned to see Night throwing a guy over a pool table. I charged the scene to help him only to get sucker punched in the jaw. My fuse was short to begin with. So, I turned and swung. I wasn’t sure if I hit the guy that hit me.

Then it became a brawl.

Me and Night taking on four guys.

Punch after punch, working our way out of a big jam, but coming out on top.

We chased the four guys away. We looked to the bar and saw everyone looking at us. That’s when Night reached into his pocket and took out a hundred-dollar bill.

“Drinks on me and my friend!” he called out.

Half the bar cheered, the other half didn’t.

I saw then my knuckles were really ripped up. Night told me that happened when you hit someone’s tooth. But that was good because if you were bleeding, they were bleeding and would probably lose the tooth.

That’s what it all had come down to for me.

Fighting for no reason.

Drinking in a bar where I didn’t belong.

Washing blood off my hands.

When my hands were finally clean, I had the urge to call her. She was home, asleep, protected by the last few strands of innocence her mother and stepfather demanded of her.

But I wanted to hear her voice. She could sooth me. She could make me feel less guilty about the damn fight.

I exited the bathroom and Night was leaning against the bar, sharing his new war story. He looked at me and waved for me, motioning to the women surrounding him.

I had no interest.

I wasn’t that kind of guy. I had someone in my life and that was that. No way I was going to cheat and mess up what I had.

So, I left the bar.

I walked home, alone, in the dark, a little after one in the morning. I probably should have been in jail. Fighting. Underage drinking. A nice list of charges to deal with.

But I got away. Until I got home.

I opened the door as slowly and quietly as it would allow. It took me damn near five minutes to get into the house. Five seconds later, a lamp flicked on. There sat Great Aunt Ada, a bottle of whiskey next to her.

“Holy shit,” I whispered.

“You use those two words together again, son, and I’ll make you eat a bar of damn soap.”

“Sorry.”

“One in the morning.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“You’re under my roof still.”

“I’m saving to get my own place. Soon.”

“You’re under my roof still.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“You stink like a bar. And you’ve got blood on your hands. Let me ask you, Maddox, are you proud?”

“Proud?”

“Look at yourself. Are you proud?”

I swallowed hard.

Great Aunt Ada could take few words and really cut into someone. But she did it with heart.

“Not really,” I said.

“Well, good. Hopping around town like a damn fool isn’t going to get you anywhere. You think a real woman wants that kind of man?”

“I have someone.”

“Where is she now?”

“Home. Sleeping.”

“Not out with you?”

“She’s not allowed out with me.”

“Because you act like…”

“A damn fool,” I whispered.

Great Aunt Ada reached for the whiskey bottle and drank right from it. I’d never seen her do that. Then she pointed to the couch.

I took a seat.

“Today is twenty-three years since I lost my husband. My William.”

“Oh, damn,” I said. “I’m sorry…”

“No. This is my day. Not a day for everyone to come and hug me and tell it’ll be okay. This is my day. This was his favorite drink. And he always drank from the bottle. Twenty years, Maddox. I could still smell him. I could still taste his lips as though we just kissed. That’s what real is, Maddox. The realness of the world is waiting for you. You’re right. You’re not a kid. You’re a legal adult. I can’t do a damn thing anymore. And I couldn’t do a damn thing back then either. But I love you, Maddox. I want you to be happy. Not to force yourself through life. Or a career. Or money and debt. Or even in love. I want you to be happy. Now, you’re not happy right now. Fighting in a bar. Fighting over what, I bet you don’t even know.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “My friend got into a fight and I was helping him out.”

“See where that gets you when someone gets hurt for real. Hmm?”

“I know. It was dumb.”

Great Aunt Ada handed me the whiskey bottle. “Drink to your great uncle William.”

That was the first time I ever drank whiskey with Great Aunt Ada. And the only other times I did the same was on the anniversary of Great Uncle William’s death. She showed me some pictures, told me stories about their crazy love, forever depicting the notion that whatever they show on TV and in movies is all bullshit. That love is hard. Love isn’t always kind. But if you find the right kind of love it’s worth anything that happens.

When it was three in the morning, I was a little drunk and Great Aunt Ada started to get giddy.

She grabbed the arms of the chair and forced herself to stand. I saw her body instantly sway to the left as she had no balance at all.

I jumped to her rescue and grabbed her.

“I guess I honored too much this year,” she said.

“That’s okay,” I said. “I’m really sorry about making you worried all the time. Life hasn’t been easy for me. And sometimes I get mad about that. You see other people…”

“To hell with other people, Maddox,” she said. “You never ever compare yourself to other people. You hear me? You are who you are for a reason.”

“All that talk about love, is that because of me and-”

“You really think you love that girl?”

“I think I do.”

“Thinking means you’re not ready yet. That’s okay, too. Your great uncle William, oh, he drove me crazy. In today’s terms, I guess it would have been considered stalking. But he was always there when I needed someone there. And finally, I realized that man was always going to be there. I guess what I mean, Maddox, is that you’re at a bar, drinking, getting into a fight, coming back here, forever talking about this girl, but never actually doing something.”

Great Aunt Ada cut deep and then I helped her to her room.

I sat in my room until the sun came up, sipping whiskey, keeping my buzz alive.

I did love her. I had a connection with her. I didn’t think about the rest of my life. I didn’t want to. I didn’t need to. Fine, maybe she and I weren’t meant to be together forever, but I wasn’t asking for forever.

Even still, I couldn’t imagine not having her.

So, I told myself I would be there.

Always be there.

Until the end.

I just didn’t know the end would include her jumping to her death…