Molly
JAMESON HAD LEFT hours ago and Pam finally left with Stacy a little while ago. Lars looked exhausted, but he did eat and apologized to his family.
“Why don’t you go lay down for a little bit?” I suggested as I finished cleaning up the kitchen.
“Why are you here?” He had asked this question a million times throughout the day, but I kept ignoring it.
I dried my hands and turned to him. “I’m here because you’re drinking yourself into an early grave and I’m going to prevent it as much as I can.” I told him the truth because I knew he wasn’t going to stop asking.
“You don’t need to be here. I’m fine.” He sipped on yet another cup of coffee.
“Really? So, you weren’t dead drunk last night and didn’t have to have your butt hauled up two flights of stairs?” I faked gasped. “Maybe I was dreaming all of it?”
He actually rolled his eyes. “I just had a little too much.”
“And what about the night before that? And the night before that? According to your family and Jameson, you’ve had a little too much every day since you returned from Iraq.”
He glared at me but didn’t say anything.
“I’m going to fix up Jameson’s bed for me to sleep in.” I left him with his coffee and went down the hall.
When I left Lars, he was stationed in Germany getting ready to deploy. Jameson promised me he would look after him since they were in the same unit. When Lars was discharged from the Army due to medical reasons, Jameson set up this place for him until he got out a year later. Not that his family wouldn’t have taken him in, but they were best friends. There were many nights Jameson would call me and vent about him. I knew it was stressful for him, but he stuck it through. When he became engaged and planned on leaving Lars, that was when he called me, after talking to the family. They all knew Lars wouldn’t take this news well, but Jameson couldn’t stop living his life because of Lars. I was the only one able to do it.
“I don’t need you.” He stood in the bedroom doorway.
I faced him, putting my hands on my hips. He was just a few months older than me, but right now he looked years older. I knew it was because of his lack of sleep and stress. Not to mention all the drinking he was doing. His hair was black and he was sporting a beard now. He normally would only have a goatee.
“Yes you do. Because no one else wants to put up with you.”
“I can handle this.”
“You’re lying because if this is handling it, then you can’t do it.”
“You left me long ago and I’ve been handling my life just fine.”
“Maybe at first, but now you need someone. And I’m here.”
“Until when? Until it gets too tough and you run away from me again? Until you can’t handle me anymore and just give me a letter?”
I took a sharp breath in as if he stabbed me. The letter was the only way I could explain to him the situation–well not all of it, but some–in hopes he could move on without me. I couldn’t tell him everything because he would have gone AWOL to come find me, and I couldn’t allow that.
The doorbell rang and Lars turned away from me to go answer it.
“Hello, Ms. Griffin.” His voice was calmer.
I walked up behind him and his landlady was handing him a dish.
“Molly, well as I live and breathe.” She was a kind, older woman, whom I’ve known all my life. She owned a lot of real estate in our hometown. According to Jameson, she’d been cooking, doing Lars’ laundry and looking in on them since they moved in. The whole town knew she had lost her son in the Vietnam War and had no other children or family and had almost taken him on as a surrogate son. “How are you, sweetheart?” She held out her arms.
I hugged her and smiled. “I’m well. Thank you. And you?”
“Oh I’m fit as a fiddle. I just wanted to drop off some dinner for Lars. Are staying long?”
“Hopefully not.” Lars mumbled.
“Just for a little while,” I said ignoring his comment.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to dinner. Have fun.” She beamed and left.
Lars went into the kitchen and I followed him. “What did she make us?”
“Looks like tuna casserole.” He removed the dish cover. “She made it for me not you.”
“Wow, no one taught you how to share, huh?” I pulled a couple of plates down from the cabinet. “Want a bottle of water?”
“I want a beer.”
“Try again.” I grabbed two bottles of water and sat them on the kitchen table.
“I’m thirty-two years old, I think I know what I want,” he yelled.
“First, calm down. I’m not here for you to yell at me or even raise your voice at me. Second, you aren’t drinking anymore. I’m putting my foot down, and I’m going to make sure you’re sobering up by the time I leave here. Three, I don’t care what you want, you’re getting water.” I picked up the dish and sat it on the table. “Now, are you ready to have some dinner?” I began to scoop out the casserole.
We ate in silence and I was thankful for the quietness. I knew this was going to be hard, but I was trying to see the bright side. This was for Lars and helping him see through his issues. Of course, all of that wouldn’t happen in a week, but I could at least get it started.
“I’m going to lay down. Do I have permission?” He smarted off to me when we finished eating.
“Go on,” I said and cleaned up the table, putting away the leftovers.
I went into the bedroom and began to unpack my clothes. I should have probably packed more, but I was hoping I wouldn’t need any more. At this rate, I would. I promised Pam I would see this through, and I won’t break it. I listened at Lars’ door, but I didn’t hear anything. I assumed he was asleep.
I jumped into the shower and then curled up in bed with my Kindle. I couldn’t believe I was here. Lars had been through a lot in the last ten years, and I wanted to be there for him more, but I knew better. I made a clean break from him to ensure he was able to move on and find someone else to have a family with. Jameson promised to hold my secret, and I trust him. Lars would never find out the truth.
I was deep into my Kindle when I heard a loud thud coming from Lars’ room. I quickly got up and went over to inspect. When I opened the door, I saw him laid out on the floor with a bottle of whiskey next to him.
“Are you kidding me, Lars Grekov?” He was drunk. “What is your problem?” I jerked the bottle from his hand and dumped the liquor down the drain. “I can’t believe you.”
“Go away.” He groaned, trying to get up but was failing miserably. “I don’t want you here.”
“Too bad, bucko. I’m here to stay. I gave my word to your family.” I yanked on his arm to get him to sit up. “We need to sober you up.”
“Why?”
I strained to lift him. “Because you can’t live like this.”
“I can’t live without you.”
I froze. “Lars, don’t go there. I’m here to help and then I’ll leave.”
He stared at me. “You know how to do that the best.”
“You don’t understand and now isn’t the time to explain it to you.”
“You loved me and you left me.”
I couldn’t tell him how much I still loved him. He will always hold my heart. There was no doubt about it.
“I will always care for you.”
He laughed. “Oh that’s so lame. Always care for you.” He mocked me. “You left me while I was stationed overseas and sent me a letter with our divorce papers. You left me.” He began to grow angry.
“I did and it was ten years ago. Let’s focus on you right now and then we’ll go down memory lane later.” I finally sat him up. “Now get your lazy butt up.”
He was able to get up and then fell right onto the bed. Mumbling something I couldn’t understand. I studied him for a second and realized I needed to get him on his side and stay with him to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself through the night. I grabbed a cold washcloth, aspirin, and a bottled water. He was still in his boxers so I didn’t need to undress him. I searched his closet to make sure there was nothing else hiding in there and laid on the bed next to him. I pushed back his hair off his forehead. He looked peaceful right now, and I knew it wouldn’t last, but for a moment, I pretended he was still mine. I lightly stroked his cheek, running my fingers through his beard.
“I love you, Lars,” I whispered. “I’m sorry for all the pain I caused you.” I leaned in and kissed his forehead. I knew in the morning this was all going to change. It was going to get even worse than this morning.