Chapter Eight: Lynette
Hours later, I’d finally fallen asleep when I was abruptly woken by my father banging on my door. I pulled myself from the heavy daze of sleep.
“Hold on!” I shouted, knowing it would do no good.
I rubbed my eyes, fighting the exhaustion that was threatening to drag me back under.
I forced myself into a sitting position, rubbing my eyes. They focused on the blurry clock. It was only eight-thirty.
“Jesus, Dad,” I mumbled to myself.
I stood up on shaky legs and walked to my bedroom door. I unlocked it and opened it quickly.
“What?” I snarled up at him.
Terry Sr. was tall and wide. He’d played football in his youth, but now the muscle that had once been there was wasted away to flab. Still he was an imposing figure and took up most of the door.
My father looked me up and down and turned away.
“Put some clothes on.”
I looked down at myself and quickly closed the door hiding my barely clad body. The t-shirt from the night before didn't do much to cover my panties. I pulled on a pair of yoga pants that were on the end of my bed and opened the door. My father's bloodshot eyes met mine.
“I need you to run to the store for me.”
“Dad, no, it's too early. They're not even open yet.”
I moved to close the door and he stopped it with his hand.
“Lynette, I need your help honey,” he said, the pleading evident in his voice.
I sighed, it was always worse when he was sweet to me.
“Dad, there's nothing I can do. The stores aren't open yet.”
“Go to the bar. Get me something.”
I backed away from the door.
“No, I can't. That's a rule. You know that, it's the one rule. Don't drink the stock.”
He nodded.
“I know, I know. It's just that I'm shaking.”
He held out his hand for me to see. There was a visible tremor.
“Dad...”
I had no choice. I didn't know where he'd been the last couple of days, but now he needed a drink and he needed it in a bad way. And whenever that happened he always came home. And it would just get worse if he didn't get one.
Much worse.
I’ve seen this all before. Too many times to count.
I grabbed my phone and collected my keys before padding out of the bedroom. I passed my father in the hallway and tried to hold my breath. The smell of stale booze surrounding him made me almost ill. Pulling on my sneakers, I quickly left the house.
The morning sunlight was bright and I wished I’d brought my sunglasses. The light hitting the white sidewalk was causing me to have a headache. My steps were sluggish. I needed to get some sleep.
Last night had hit me hard. I let my mind wander back to what had happened. Touching my lips at the memory of Gabriel's kiss.
I wanted to enjoy it, the idea of him wanting me. At least for a little while.
No one wanted me. Not with all my problems. But then out of the blue there was Gabriel and he did. I pushed the doubt out of my mind. Just for today I want to keep something for myself.
I reached the bar and let myself in. Once inside I locked the door and took in the hazy darkness of the bar. The plate that we had half-shared was still sitting on the bar. Walking over, I grabbed it and carried it into the kitchen. Washing it quickly, I dried it and put it away.
Yawning, I wandered into the office and sat down on the cot in the back. On the office desk was the gift from Gabriel. I still hadn't opened it. Stifling another yawn, I stretched out on the cot and closed my eyes.
I needed to rest for just a few minutes. My father could wait an hour. I wasn't going to last much longer without sleep. I curled up on the cot in the quiet darkness of the bar.
There was a mosquito in my ear. I swatted at it and tried to roll over, but it kept buzzing, flying around my head. I opened my sleep-crusted eyes, confused. Realizing it was my phone, I answered without checking it.
“Hello?” I said, still half asleep, slowly remembering that I was in the bar.
“Did I wake you?” Gabriel's voice was full of concern.
“Yeah. . .” I said slowly, awareness coming back to me in bits and pieces.
“I'm sorry. I thought you would be awake by now.”
I pulled myself into a sitting position and rubbed my eyes.
“We're not all on military time, you know.”
“It's three in the afternoon.”
I pulled the phone back from my ear and checked the time.
“Crap!”
“Is something wrong?”
“Uh, no. I just overslept. Can I call you back? I have to take care of something.”
I didn't wait for his answer. I jumped up from the bed and grabbed an old knapsack from under the cot. I rushed out of the office completely forgetting about the package from Gabriel.
I grabbed a bottle of liquor from behind the bar and shoved it in the bag. Rushing out the door, I hustled the eight blocks back to the apartment.
I opened the door slowly. Slipping inside, I was immediately on edge. My phone was in my bag, buzzing like a bee against my thigh. It was Gabriel. I knew without looking. But I didn't answer, couldn't answer. Not now. I had something more urgent to attend to.
“Dad?” I called out sheepishly.
There was a groan from the kitchen. I walked towards the back of the apartment to what was left of my once clean kitchen. There was my father with his head down on the table with shards of glass from a broken whiskey bottle on the floor beside him. I wondered where he’d gotten it.
I pulled the liquor bottle out of my bag and placed it on the table next to him. He looked up at me and grabbed it with a trembling hand. I sighed and started cleaning up the mess he’d made.
My father stood, taking his prize with him to the living room without saying a word. Later he would ask me for money and I would give it to him and then maybe he would disappear for a few days or maybe not.
This was my life.
Not Gabriel.
Not those glimmering moments of safety and contentment in his arms.
Those were all lies.
My phone went off every few minutes. I didn't look at it. I simply swept up the glass shards and dumped them in the trash. It took me an hour to finish cleaning. When the kitchen was complete, I picked up the bag and walked back to my bedroom.
Shutting and locking the door behind me, I half dragged myself to the bed and pulled out my phone. Gabriel had called me eight times. There were voice-mails that I didn't have the heart to listen to. I closed my eyes and thought about how to best handle this. Clearly my life couldn't just stop for him or even for myself. But I wanted him. God, how I wanted this man.
My phone vibrated in my hand.
“Hello?” I said in a rush.
“What's the matter with you?”
It was Tanya.
“Nothing. Are you calling in again for the night?”
“No, wasn’t planning to. Aren’t you going to open? I was just there and everything is all locked up.”
My eyes opened wide as I turned to the clock. It was after five.
“Oh shit!” I mumbled.
“What?” Tanya asked.
“Nothing.” After a deep breath, I continued. “No, we’re not opening tonight. There's been a family emergency.”
“Oh yeah, right, emergency. I'm sure. Whatever. You need to check your Dad into rehab, Lynette. He’s dragging you down with him.”
“Thanks Tanya for that advice. Feel free to mind your own fucking business.”
The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. I held my breath for a moment, waiting for her answer.
“Whatever you say boss. Have a good night.”
The line went dead in my ear and I let the air out in a stream. I put the phone down on the bed and curled myself into a tight ball. I shouldn’t have snapped at her and would apologize next time I saw her.
My life was a mess. If Gabriel calls, I'll tell him I can't see him again.