2020-05-16 Aftermath 4 - Patrick's Stupor - Chris and Patrick and Noelle

Chris collapses on top of Noelle, happily spent “I knew we could be quiet…” He murmurs into her neck. Then he sighs and turns, noticing the clock “Oh shit...I gotta go...I told the crew I’d be on the run this morning. I’ll have to catch up with them on the route….” He carefully pulls out of her and deals with the condom “Sorry...I promise you all the after cuddling later...is that ok?” He really does look like he feels bad about it. But he would hear about it if he missed another run too. The group could be competitive. Plus it gave him a chance to check in on Pat. He was worried about Pat. It migtht be a small run today after the Rose house fire and murder.

Noelle was completely sated by the morning lovemaking.  It seemed that it suited them perfectly.  But it was morning, and fortunately Saturday morning.  Blaze was still sleeping.  “It’s OK.  You’d better go or Blaze will hold you hostage all weekend.”  she teased, but she absolutely adored how close Chris and Blaze were getting.  “I should shower while I can.”  she kisses him.  “Talk to you later.” and she, like him, is out of bed and preparing for the day.  Life was good.

Chris kissed her back between pulling on pieces of his clothing and grinned. “He can hold me hostage after 8:30…” He watches her head to the shower and starts down the hall, stopping at Blaze’s door to quietly peek at him with a sweet smile. He was still asleep with the little police car he played with in his little hand. Chris felt an inward melting in his heart and then dashed off towards home, slipping into his shoes and locked the door after him. He was already jogging to get to his jog. He might need a super fast rinse off shower himself after sex before hitting the pavement. He burst through his apartment door, rushing around and taking off his shirt and shoes. He rifled through his dresser for a running shirt and some shorts. “Pat, are you home?”

Fuck it was 6:50. The run had started 5 minutes ago. No shower time. He’d slap on some deodorant and wash his face. Pat was sometimes late without his prodding though so he ran into his brother’s room. It was empty. He had been in such a rush to get in he didn’t even look in the main rooms so he popped out of his room as he pulled on his shirt. And now held the shorts. He did a double take. The place was a little trashed. There were empty beer bottles all over the place. “Aw fuck me...did you drink the whole case….” He finds some more….and his eyes pop “Both cases…” He goes to put the bottles by the sink and then reacts with revulsion at a sink full of puke “Fuuuuuuck...Pat….” Clearly Pat’s stress relief was getting hammered. Now Chris was really worried because that wasn't his normal go to. With a sigh he switched to his running shorts and carried his jeans back to his room ready to go wash his face. If Pat was on the run already that would be punishment enough for drinking all the beer.

“Fuuuuck me!” He hollered as he saw his own bathroom sink also full of puke. Then he turned and saw his brother passed out fully dressed in his bathtub with his hand dangling over the side like a lever. Chris was worried for Patrick but he was also really pissed about the puke. He did what older brothers, even though it was only by 3 minutes, do best. He showed no mercy. He smacked Pat on both cheeks repeatedly so his head went side to side “Motherfucker...why are you in my bathroom?”

Patrick was in the black.  He didn’t know what was around him.  There was a feeling of slaps to his cheek.  “Gamma, don’t pinch my cheeks….”  He was 6 years old and his grandmother was patting him on his cheeks and telling him how cute he was.  She would be dead a year later, but for now it was less endearing and more annoying.

Chris rolled his eyes and had to chuckle “Oh I’m not Grandma…..she was way nicer than I’m about to be buddy…” He knew which Grandma Pat meant by the cheek pinching. Now he pulled the curtain a little around his brother so as to not flood the floor and then reaches for the taps and turns the shower on cold and full blast.

The shock of the cold water has an instant effect.  Patrick jumps and struggles to get away from the deluge.  “What the fuck?!”  he yells looking in all directions now that he can see again.  Two seconds later, he spots Chris and smiles broadly.  “Christopher!”  he leans in for a sloppy hug.  “You’re home from telling Avery she’s safe!”  and he begins to sing.  In the way of the twins, the song is well before their time.  Ted Nugent’s Writing On The Wall was often sung by the older set of grandparents, but this time the refrain was more haunting.  “Runnin' helter skelter, Knock her down and belt her, Show her who's the boss, You better treat her sweet, Or you'll be out in the street, And that would be a loss.”  then his voice raises, cracking with the remnants of alcohol and emotion.  “My life is a good life to lead. Writing on the wall is a good story to read.”

Chris shakes his head and grins at his brother and pats him on the head during the sloppy hug “Yeah it was a shitshow with Avery...but she’s doing better too.” When Pat starts singing he realizes how drunk his brother still is and shoves him back into the cold shower. Ted Nugent. He can see Grandpa Joe clear in his mind on his back porch with that old guitar. But he also tunes into the lyrics and what his brother witnessed in the Rose house. The memories of their grandfather’s crooning couldn’t cure any of that.

Patrick yells again as he's shoved back in the tub and the cold water beating resumes.  He shouts again and struggles, but it brings him more fully awake and sober.  Finally able to stand, he does, dripping on the bathroom floor.  Placing a hand to his temple he now groans.  “Shit …  I think I drank too much….”  he sighs and moves to the sink, looking in and seeing the vomit.  “Yea …  I guess I threw up …..”  and he begins to rinse it down and clean it up without having to be told.  As he does he groans again.  “What time is it?”  he asks as he realizes he has plans later in the day and thinks he might not be TOO late if he grabs a quick shower and shaves.  After all, he's halfway through his shower already.

Chris snorts “Ya think? Dude you drank all our fucking beer...both cases. Thank god we only got 6s….” He turns off the shower and appreciates that Pat is at least cleaning up the puke. Chris steps out of the bathroom and looks at his digital clock “It’s 7:10. Pat...are you ok?” Now the worry kicks in again. He had never seen his brother consume 12 beers.

Patrick’s eyes go wide and he stares in the mirror at his brother.  “I drank BOTH cases?”  he winces again.  “I remember the first 4 but …  then …”  he hears his brother and begins to answer when the significance of the time hits him.  “There was writing on the Rose walls, man.  Jesus it was ….”  he starts.  “What?  7:10.  Fuck I’m late for my date with Sajani!”  he heads out of the bathroom, careening into the door frame.  He barely makes the 180 degree turn to leave Chris’s bedroom.  “Seven tonight at Zabats.  It’s going to be fantastic and I need fantastic after last night.” he is headed for his bedroom, but in a very zig-zaggy pattern.

Chris face palms after watching his brother and then follows him “Pat! Stop…...It’s 7:10 in the morning. It’s the 16th today…...your date was last night man. You lost a whole day to those 12 beers….” He didn’t comment on the writing on the walls stuff because Pat is still clearly hammered and he’d rather get into all that when they’re both lucid. “You’re 12 hours late for that date.” He finalizes.

Patrick tries to stop himself by grabbing the back of one of their dining chants and turning around.  He winds up spinning and just barely falling onto another dining chair.  “What?  The 16th?”  he frowns and then groans as Chris goes on.  “Oh fuck me sideways….”  he buries his face in his hands.  “I stood her up.  I mean REALLY stood her up … I’ve never been later than 45 minutes before, Chris.”  he blows out a breath and makes to stand.  “OK, this is not a disaster, Partick.”  ht tells himself.  “I’ll just go over to her house … and … and beg … beg forgiveness and apologize and beg and tell her what happened and …”  he looks at Chris and then the front door.  “Then beg again ….”

Chris pushes him back into the chair “Pat you’re hammered. If you go pounding on Sajani’s door right now she’ll never want to go out with you again no matter how much you beg…...let’s get you more presentable. Park your ass...I’ll make some coffee.” He pats his brother’s back and heads to the coffee maker. “Check your phone. She probably texted you?”

Patrick checks his motion but just barely.  He, like a pinball, careens into the wall by his bedroom door and then into the wall by their front door.  “I’m not hammered.”  he protests.  “But I’d better change clothes…”  the rest of his brothers make their way to him.  After the pat on the back, he heads for the living room.  Chris can probably hear bottles clinking as Patrick stumbles through them.  “Right!  My phone …. My phone ….  Is here!”  he finds it and staggers back to the kitchen, sitting and looking at it.  His face falls, followed by the arm holding the phone, which drops on the table where Chris can read if he is so inclined.  Dropping his head on the glass top of the table, Patrick moans like a wounded animal.  “I am so fucked……  I wanted this date for years ….”

7:10 Hey Patrick. I’m here but you aren't. It's ok I brought a book.
7:30 Are you coming? I’m really hungry so I’m just going to order. Catch up when you get here.
7:40 a picture of chicken souvlaki and lemon potatoes with no text but one red heart emoji
8:05 I’ll wait a little longer and get dessert…..
8:10 a picture of baklava and a bunch of heart emojis in all the colours
8:15 I’m going home now. Goodnight.



Chris is watching his brother pitifully as he wipes his hands on a kitchen towel and the coffee brews behind him. It really does suck. He cringes at all the bottles clinking hoping Pat doesn’t break any. When Patrick reads the texts and drops the phone he sauntered over to read them on the screen. “I know buddy….but hey. She sent you a lot of texts Pat. She could have just sent the leaving one….seems like she wanted this date too.” He sits down beside him “You could just tell her….maybe not all the gory details. But she probably assumed you were on one of those fire trucks part way down her street. It’s been all over the news and social media.”

Patrick listens to Chris.  The smooth brother who thinks before he asks a girl out, isn’t ever late and knows what to say to women.  So the advice means something.  Finally he lifts his head.  “Yea … it was … loud I guess.  Outside .. near the end.  Kira … yea ….”  he blows out a breath and straightens.  “OK … I need your help, man.  I need to be sober and pretty ASAP.”  he announces.  Then he looks even more hopeful.  “Or even better, you can borrow some make-up from Noelle, cover your mole and add mine with eye liner then go smooth things over for me.”

Chris nods, looking serious about the fire and Kira and then has to laugh and pinch his brother’s cheek just like Grandma Peterson used to “Well you’ll never be pretty.” He teases and then laughs even harder “Uh...all the nopes man….. Sajani’s cute, but the only woman I’m going to romance is Noelle so I get to keep her. I will not be your surrogate Cyrano….” he chides and then goes to the coffee pot and pours them each a cup. He sets a black coffee in front of Pat “Drink this...it’ll help. I’m going to make you some oatmeal. Soak up the booze with carbs….”

Patrick is getting sober enough that he can sigh in mock exasperation when his cheek is pinched. “Grandma knew I was the cute one.”  he thinks aloud.  Then he shakes his head as Chris rejects passing for him just because he already has a girlfriend.  “Fine, you be you.  Miss out on the adventure that is my life.”  he reaches for the coffee and drinks half of it down.  Then he groans.  “Oatmeal?”  He hates oatmeal.  He then talks more to himself than Chris.  “But it’ll get us sober and we can beg better, Patrick.  We need to be at our best when we make an even bigger fool of ourself.”  He sounds like some odd Gollum meme in wet clothes.

Chris is already stirring the oatmeal in the pot listening to his brother’s bizzare self deprecating monologue. “Yes oatmeal…..Grandma was so charitable she just let you think that man…” He chortles and then a few minutes later dishes up two bowls of steaming oatmeal with a little sprinkle of cinnamon but no sweetener. He sets them on the table and grabs spoons and some almond milk to put on top. Handing his brother a spoon he commands “Eat up Gollum!”

Patrick looks at the bowl in front of him thinking Chris may well be right about their grandmother's deception.  He takes the spoon and scoffs at Chris commentary.  “Stupid, fat twin.”  he grumbles, but eats.  And eats … and eats some more.  Getting it down and tasting as little of it as possible.  Once he is done, he even reaches for Chris’s bowl to eat whatever Chris hasn’t in his slow, sober eating.  Then he sits back.  “Yea … that’s better …  I’m going to grab a shower, shave and go.  Maybe we can do lunch…”

Chris lets his bowl be stolen and just smiles and shakes his head. He ignores the fat twin joke knowing he’s referring to hobbits and they weigh the same “Pat...you still look like shit. You need a nap or you’ll be face planting in the lunch you try to go out for. Not sexy. Go to bed man….even for a nap..” He takes the bowls and spoons after and puts them in the sink.

Patrick sighs deeply.  “OK … I’ll try and sleep.  Maybe an hour or two.  No more!” He agrees.  “Then shower, shave, begging.”  he stands, drinking the rest of the coffee in his cup.  Then he pauses and looks at his brother.  “Thanks, Chris.  And .. sorry I puked in your sink and passed out in your bathtub.”  he says contritely before heading into his bedroom.  He trips and falls into his bed … but is asleep two seconds later.

Chris just smiles “It happens...at least you cleaned my sink.” He hadn’t mentioned cleaning the kitchen sink for him before making oatmeal. He hears the flop onto the bed and suspects his brother is out for a while. Chris decides to be kind and clean up the mess left by Pat’s drinking binge and tries not to be too loud with the bottles as he loads the recycling bin up, Then he straightens up, does the dishes slowly with his cast hand taking a lesser role and finally and tiredly lets himself sink into one of their couches.

He sees a text from Noelle with food pictures from the dinner she made last night with Avery’s vegetables. He texts Noelle back a  thank you and I love you and then downloads the pics and  looks thoughtful. Avery hadn’t been using her phone for a while. He had a string of texts to her with no replies. But after she reached out a bit more yesterday he decided to give it another try and sent off the pics with the message “With thanks from Noelle the Vegan, Chris and Blaze. It doesn’t escape his notice that he’s just sent his sister a text from the three of them signed like a family and it makes him smile to himself. Then his smile broadens as Avery texts him back immediately with one word “Yum.” Chris hugs his phone to his chest. It was only one word but it was Avery reaching out for the second time in 2 days. His little sister was coming back to them.