My phone call with Micah left me feeling angry and defeated, so I decided to just swing by the grocery store and grab some food instead of going to the tavern. Although I had ignored Micah’s endless barrage of requests to go to therapy, I had made a resolution to stop drinking when I was angry — a habit I had picked up from my father who preferred to tamp his grievances with a bottle of gin rather than air them out in public.

It was nearing 9 P.M. so the grocery store was mostly deserted. I grabbed some essentials, fruit, lunch meat, bread. Nothing too fancy but just enough to make a sizable meal without having to cook anything. While I was grabbing frozen fruit (Micah had taught me how to make smoothies for breakfast and I actually really liked them), I noticed those weird ice cream bars made from coconut milk that Micah was obsessed with. For a moment, I thought about how Antoni always joked about Micah’s stress eating tendencies, then I wondered what he was doing back at his mom’s place. My guess was fuming or ranting to Justus Garrett, still I grabbed the ice cream bars and wistfully shoved them into the basket. I hated to admit it, but I didn’t like fighting with Micah or knowing that I’d upset him.

I paid for my things then loaded the bags into my truck, pulling out of a mostly empty parking lot. I passed Micah’s mom’s house on the drive back to my place. The curtains were open and the lights were still on, it had to be Micah. His mom rarely stayed up past 10. I don’t know why, but I parked alongside the curb and dug the coconut ice cream bars, already half-melted, out of the paper grocery bags, then I marched up to Micah’s front door and knocked.

“Benjamin? What are you doing here? Ross is asleep, it’s quite late.” Micah’s mom answered the door wearing a silk robe and a face full of toners and serums. She clearly wasn’t in the mood for company.

“I figured. I’m sorry to bother you, Violet, but I was actually wondering if I could talk to Micah?” I asked sheepishly.

Violet nodded. “Of course, come on in.” She opened up the door the rest of the way and I stepped inside, waiting awkwardly while in the front room while she hollered up the stairs, “Michael! Get down here, it’s Benjamin Benson!”

Micah came clamoring down the stairs wearing old flannel pajama pants and a Julliard sweatshirt. He was also wearing an equal amount of serums and prescription strength acne adult acne medication (he made me and Antoni refill the prescription for him while we were in L.A.). He glared at me a bit, and crossed his arms over his chest. Violet noticed the tension.

“Well, I’ll leave you boys to discuss whatever it is that you need to discuss. I’m off to bed. Michael, please make sure to remember to turn off all the lights before you go to bed and lock the side door. Benjamin, it was lovely to see you as always,” Violet said.

Micah stared at me for several minutes after his mom left, finally he broke the silence.

“What are you doing here? Ross has been in bed for a solid two hours, you really overshot bedtime,” he said.

“I know, I wanted to talk to you,” I said.

“About what? Did you want to call me selfish again? Tell me that I bought my way into the cast of Hot Law? Tell me about all the times this week where I’ve been irresponsible?” he asked icily.

“No, actually, I wanted to apologize for earlier today. I shouldn’t have reacted the way that I did, you were trying to do something nice for me and Ross and I just about bit your head off. You can have Lindsey’s house if you want it, I can’t imagine a better owner. And, it’s a huge financial relief for me,” I said.

Micah nodded, considering his words, “You know you can talk to me, right? You can come to me if you need anything, and I’m not just talking about money. I want to support you.”

“Yeah, I know, and I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick. I got you these,” I said, presenting him with the box of half-melted ice cream bars. He grinned.

“Wait, are you serious? Chocolate almond coconut ice dream? These are my favorite.” He grabbed the box and ripped the cardboard top off, snagging a bar and unwrapping it quickly.

“Thank you,” he said, taking a giant bite out of his ice cream bar.

“But don’t think this means you can just bribe me with frozen desserts every time that I get mad at you. I’m still mad at you, by the way. You’re going to have to work really hard to get on my good side.”

I nodded, and wrapped my arms around his waist, and kissing his lips. He tasted like coconut and something weirdly chemical and acidic. I wrinkled my brow. “I’ll work on it, I promise. And, God, what’s on your face?”

Micah scoffed. “It’s my acne medication. You know this.”

I started to laugh. “It makes you taste metallic.” I kissed him again.

It was Micah’s turn to pull away and grin. “How do you know I’m not a robot? I’m already dead inside,” he joked, kissing my neck. I groaned a little.

“Does this mean we’re okay?”

Micah nodded. “We’re okay,” he said, deepening our kiss.

I snuck out of Micah’s house at 3 A.M. like a delinquent. We didn’t want to arouse any suspicions by me spending the night, and we didn’t want to confuse Ross … or Micah’s mom … or anyone, actually. After our talk Micah and I made out in his old bedroom like teenagers, nothing in his room had changed. He still had old flannel sheets on his twin-sized bed. I gave him a blow job while making awkward eye contact with the mid-‘90s Britney Spears poster that still hung on his bedroom wall. This, coupled with Micah eating the rest of the coconut ice dream bars, was, in his words, “exactly how prom should have gone.” As well as, “the exact scenario that got me off during my first summer home from college.” I gave him a blow job that nearly blew his eyeballs out and I was glad to make his dreams come true.

I told him I could piss him off more often if he wanted, then I crept down the hall and slipped out the door like I was trying to sneak out, slowly backing my truck away from the curb. When I got back to my place, I collapsed onto my bed with my clothes still on and immediately fell asleep.

The next morning, I was awoken by the loud buzz of my doorbell. This was odd, the only people who rang my doorbell were kids trying to sell candy or magazines for school fundraisers, or people who were canvassing for Greenpeace, and it was much too early for both of these things. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and got up.

“I’m coming, hold on,” I grumbled as the doorbell rang again. I smoothed my wrinkled shirt and opened the door. A woman in a blazer and dress pants stood at my doorstep, she was carrying a clipboard and her hair was pinned back in a neat bun, she looked too professional to be canvassing for anything.

“Hello, can I help you?” I asked.

“Yes, are you Benjamin Benson?” she asked.

“Yes, is there a problem?”

“Mr. Benson, my name is Laura Covington and I’m a caseworker for the Department of Child Protective Services. I’m here to do a wellness check on,” she glanced down at her clipboard, “Ross Benson. He does live here, yes?” I tried to answer but nothing came out, what was even happening? Who called CPS on me, and most importantly, why did someone call CPS on me?

“I uh yes, he’s been living with me since both of his mother’s died in a car crash last month, but he’s at his biological dad’s house right now, I’m his uncle. Uh, I can call his dad now if you want?” I started to break out into a nervous sweat.

“That would be ideal, can I come in?”

“Oh, of course. Do you want anything? Water?”

She followed me back into the kitchen where I had left my cell phone and glanced around, suspiciously noting something on her clipboard, glancing at the booster seat that I’d strapped onto one of the kitchen chairs for Ross.

I dialed Micah’s number quickly. “Hey Ben, what’s up?” he asked sleepily.

“Can you bring Ross here? Someone from Child Protective Services is here and they want to do a wellness check,” I said, trying to remain calm.

“Wait, what? Hang on we’ll be right over, we’re just finishing up breakfast. Tell them we’ll be there in twenty. I have to go, I’ll see you soon.” Micah hung up quickly.

“They’ll be here in twenty minutes if that’s okay,” I said.

“Of course, I understand that this visit is a little short notice,” Laura said, continuing to jot things down.

“Can I ask why you’re here?” I asked cautiously.

“An anonymous caller said that they had been seeing you at the tavern quite frequently even while Ross was under your care, so we decided to just do a checkup. You understand that this isn’t a judgment on your parenting, we’re simply here to make sure that things are safe for Ross.”

As soon as she said this a massive pit formed in my stomach. I felt like I was going to puke. Who would do this to me? Was it Clyde? Micah? Or just a regular from the tavern? And, what gave them the right?

“Of course, well I can assure you that I’m doing the best I can with Ross,” I said numbly.

“Yes, Mr. Benson, I’m sure you are. We’re just here to make sure that your best is … satisfactory. Now, do you have child locks on these cabinets?”

“I uh, no, I was going to get some this week,” I stammered. This wasn’t a lie either, it was on my list of things to buy for the week.

“Of course. Now, can you show me where Ross has been staying? I just need to take a brief look around.”

Mercifully, Micah walked through the door with Ross grinning, right at that moment. I sighed an audible sigh of relief.

“Hey buddy,” I said, waving to Ross.

Micah stuck his hand out and walked over to Laura, amicably using all of the Hollywood charm he could muster. “My name is Micah Carson, I’m Ross’s father.”

“Laura Covington, Department of Child Protective Services, I’m just here to do a wellness check,” she said matter-of-factly.

“And this must be Ross.” She crouched to meet Ross’s eye level. He was standing next to Micah eyeing Laura suspiciously.

“Ross, do you like living with your uncle Benjamin?” she asked. He nodded mutely, burying his face in Micah’s leg.

“He gets shy sometimes, and we’re a little hungry. We skipped breakfast to get over here, do you mind?” Micah asked. He put Ross in his booster seat and went and grabbed a bowl from the cupboard.

“Ross, are you okay with cereal for breakfast? Cheerios?” he asked grabbing the cereal from the cupboard.

“Yeah! And banana,” Ross said. Micah nodded and grabbed a banana, slicing it up into tiny pieces on top of the cereal and adding milk.

“Here you go,” he said bringing over the bowl to Ross. Ross grinned and shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“I think he’s been going through some sort of growth spurt, he’s been so hungry lately,” Micah said breezily.

I stood useless and still off to the side of the kitchen while Micah chatted with the caseworker, talking about our trip to L.A. and how he bought Lindsey’s house, so he could have a place to stay while he was in town. “Ross has already lost so much, I just wanted him to have a stable home, you know? And his room is already set up there, so less work for me! Right, Ben?” He grinned at me and elbowed me in the side.

“Yeah! It’s important to both of us that Ross still feels like he has a home here,” I said. The caseworker nodded.

“Of course. Now, if it’s alright I would like to talk to all three of you. First the two of you separately, then Ross. Micah, would you like to go first?” she asked.

“It would be my pleasure,” Micah said silkily. He led her back to the living room, chatting all the while. I sat mutely with Ross watching him eat his breakfast.

“Ben sad?” he asked with his mouth still full of cereal.

“No buddy, I’m not sad. I could never be sad when you’re here,” I reassured him.

“Bye Laura, don’t work too hard!” Micah called, flashing a dazzling smile as he closed the door behind him. He looked visibly relieved.

“Glad that’s over,” he said. “Do you know who called them in the first place?” he asked.

I took Ross’s bowl over to the sink and rinsed it. “No, they won’t tell me, something about confidentiality which is rich considering that she basically intruded on our morning with no notice whatsoever,” I fumed.

“Isn’t that the point of a surprise visit?”

“Still, who could have done this?” I was getting frustrated.

Micah shrugged. “I don’t know, did Laura tell you why they called? You’re at least entitled to that information.”

“She said … someone was concerned for Ross because they saw me drinking at the tavern, um, more often than what they would consider ‘normal.”

Micah sighed. “Did you tell her that you were working on it? Did you ever make an appointment with that therapist?” He was starting to pester me again and though it was annoying I knew he was only doing this because he was concerned for me.

“No,” I admitted.

“Ben, you need to start taking care of yourself,” Micah started slowly. He was getting ready to lecture me again, I could see it in his eyes.

“I know, I’m going to.”

“No, you need to like actually take steps forward to better yourself,” Micah snapped.

“What’s with you?” I asked getting defensive.

“I’m trying to look out for you and Ross. You’re always talking about how he needs to live somewhere stable, but living with someone who’s out drinking until 4:00 A.M. on a Wednesday and forgetting to be picked up is … the opposite of stable! Honestly Ben, think this through. If I was out every night drinking without proper care in place for Ross, would you let him stay with me?”

What if Micah was the one who called them? Once the thought was in my head, it wouldn’t go away. Micah already went behind my back when he bought Lindsey’s house, who’s to say he wouldn’t just up and call Child Protective Services on me? He looked so smug, standing there, watching Ross play on the carpet with his trucks … like he won.

“Did you call them?” I asked, the question hung heavy in the air.

“What?” Micah asked, clearly surprised.

“CPS, the anonymous person who called them, was it you? Did you send someone to check up on me to make sure I’m not a lush?” I snapped, I knew I sounded ridiculous, but I didn’t care, I was fully enraged now. Micah looked stunned.

“Ben, no! Why would I do that? You’re being paranoid, calm down!”

This only made me angrier. “You already lied to me about Lindsey’s house, so I wouldn’t put it past you,” I shot back.

“Wait, this again? Ben, for the love of God, I’ve told you once and I’ll tell you again, I was trying to help you! If I knew that you were going to lord this over me for our entire relationship I would have never bought that stupid house.”

“Oh, so now I’m being stupid? What happened to wanting to help me feel my feelings?” I threw my hands up in the air, unable to contain my frustration.

“Yeah Ben, you’re being stupid right now because you’re so incredibly selfish that you can’t see how your behavior is harming the people around you!” Micah yelled back, he was screaming now. I had never heard him yell like that before.

“You’re impossible, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, nothing that I do is right. You have absolutely impossible standards for everyone but yourself, and I’m sick of it. What are you trying to do here? What’s the point of all of this Ben? Are you just going to keep pushing me away, until there’s no one left? Because I can’t take this anymore, I’m out.” Micah grabbed his shoes and threw on his jacket.

“Micah, wait,” I said desperately.

Ross picked up on the tension and Micah grabbing his things, “Micah go?” he asked mournfully.

“I’m sure Micah will see you soon,” I said, trying to be reassuring as Micah slammed the door behind him, as loud as he could.

Ross’s eyes welled up with tears and he began to cry. “Micah don’t go! Micah don’t go!” he pleaded, his voice escalating into a screech.

“He’ll come back.” I tried to reassure him but it was no use, Ross continued to screech crying out for Micah digging his hands into the carpet and pulling, throwing his trucks across the room, kicking.

“Ross, I know you’re angry but you can’t throw a fit, people leave. It’s a fact of life,” I said resignedly. I picked him up to put him down for a nap and he continued to howl and claw at my shirt, kicking as I set him in his room. I closed the door behind him but I could still hear him crying out for Micah. Eventually, he quieted probably just because he had tired himself out.

I was also exhausted and stressed. I had never seen Ross so upset before, not even when I told him that his mom wasn’t coming back. I wondered if this was some sort of pent-up grief, if Micah leaving was just the catalyst to unleash months worth of hurt that he had been keeping inside. Us Benson’s loved to bottle up our emotions, I thought cynically.

I loaded up the dishwasher and spied the bottle of gin I hid on top of the fridge, it looked too good to be true and my nerves were shot. I grabbed some ice and poured myself a stiff drink of mostly gin and a little tonic water. But I paused before I took the first sip, staring at the condensation dripping down the glass for what felt like hours.

Micah always told me that I used drinking as a crutch for difficult situations, and I realized that he might be right. Why had my first impulse been to grab a drink once things went south between Micah and me? Maybe Micah was right, maybe I needed to learn how to deal with my emotions head-on. I took a deep breath and I dumped the drink down the sink, watching the ice cubes swirl down the drain.