I thought I heard the ringing of a phone echoing through my clouded head, but I couldn’t have been too sure. I opened my eyes slowly, feeling myself come back into consciousness from a deep, drunken sleep. Light poured in from the living room window, the sound of the phone now ricocheted through my head. My head felt heavy with sleep
and booze, a headache formed immediately. I raised myself from the floor, pressing my hand to the back of my neck in attempt to relieve some of the pain. I looked down at my wife laying next to me, sleeping peacefully though the sound of the loud ringing. Unfortunately the annoyance continued so I knew I had to get up. Grumbling, I reached
up to the couch and grabbed the only thing I could find to wrap around my waist. I stood and held the knitted afghan in the back with my right hand. I ignored the dizziness and made my way to the kitchen phone, grabbing it off the wall with such force that I nearly dropped it. “Hello?” I said into the receiver. The dial tone rang out loudly. The person had just hung up.
“Hell no, I don’t think so,” I announced loudly. I pressed *-6-9 on the key pad and pressed 1 to get connected with the person who had called without even bothering to find out whose number it was.
“Hello?” The person answered.
“Hey, this is Taylor Hanson, you called a few seconds ago?”
“Tay, it’s your brother,” he said sternly.
“Oh!” I said with a relief. I balanced the phone between my chin and neckbone so I could tie the afghan around my waist, leaving both hands free to make coffee or something. “How are you, Zac?”
“I’m doing well. You sound like crap.”
I picked up a bottle of Advil from the table and downed two without water.
“Hungover at the moment,” I said. “Plus, I had a late night. . .if you know what I mean.” I chuckled into the phone and smiled as I looked in at the living room. I could see my wife sleeping on the floor from where I was standing.
“Ew, Taylor, please,” Zac pleaded. “I don’t want to hear about that. Thinking about your love life is a little more than I can handle in the early afternoon.”
My smile dropped. “Afternoon?” I exclaimed. I frantically looked around for the clock.
“Uh, yeah dude, it’s almost one.”
“In Tulsa!?”
“No, no, it’s almost noon over here. It’s one in New York. That’s where you are.”
“I know that, dimweed, thank you very much.”
“Ooo feisty,” my little brother joked.
“Zac, it’s Friday. Clare and I overslept, my daughter is asleep and she should be at school. I have three other babies who must be so hungry and dirty at the moment. And on top of all of that I had a client coming in to meet with me at ten.”
“Well at least you got laid.”
“Zac!”
“What!? It’s true!”
I gave in with a chuckle, “yeah, you’re right.” We both laughed like immature children who had just discovered girls or something. I stood up and started the coffee machine on the counter. “So how’s Nicole?” I asked. “Everything all right in that department?” I decided to continue with my immaturity. It wasn’t very often that I got some brother to brother time with my counterparts.
“Oh yeah,” Zac crooned. “Very all right.”
The two of us laughed again. I got down two mugs from the cabinet and felt someone behind me. Two arms appeared around my sides, wrapping around my stomach. “Good morning, bear,” my wife murmured into my ear.
“Morning, Love,” I said, moving the phone down from my mouth so I could kiss her bare upper arm.
“Taylor I never knew you felt that way,” my brother joked.
“You’re nasty,” I told him. “I’m hanging up on you now.”
“Who’s on the phone?” Clare asked.
“My annoying little brother,” I kidded.
“Hah-hah,” Zac retorted. “Taylor, I’ll let you go back to whatever it is that you are doing, don’t tell me please, but I called you to tell you that Isaac and I will be arriving at Newark on Monday afternoon.”
“Good deal,” I said with a nod. I felt Clare kissing my back but I couldn’t respond.
“Give me a call when you know what time it will be.”
“We will. Goodbye bro.”
“Peace.” I hung up the phone and placed it on the counter next to the coffee machine. I felt Clare’s fingers playing with the afghan around my waist. “Honey!” I exclaimed, dipping down and turning towards her. I caught the afghan before it fell. My wife was grinning mischievously. I leaned in and kissed her gently. I pressed my forehead to hers, “go lay down for a bit,” I told her. “We slept in so we might as well sleep some more. I’ll make us some breakfast.”
“More like lunch,” she joked.
“Eggs for lunch is fine by me.”
“Me too,” she said, not really paying attention to anything but the finger that she was running up and down my stomach slowly.
“Clare?” I asked, hunching my torso over causing her to stop her pattern and start a new one. “Did you hear me?”
“Ribbed,” she muttered mechanically. She looked up at me almost as though she was snapping back into reality, her finger no longer outlining the muscles in my upper body.
I grinned, “what was that?”
My wife blushed despite herself, “nothing.” Quickly her hand returned to her side. “I’ll go check on the kids.” She kissed my check abruptly and dashed into the living room to throw on her clothes before running up the stairs.
I laughed and turned back towards the counter, taking a deep breath to calm down before I could take out the breakfast requirements.
I felt something soft on my leg as I started scrambling some eggs. I looked down and found the little ball of fur known as Avery sitting on her hind legs, her right front paw pressed against my ankle, tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth. “Puppy!” I squealed reaching down and scooping her up from the floor. She licked my nose, her tail whacking my chest, before I placed her back down on the cool tile. She ran around my ankles as I scrambled the eggs. “You hungry, dog?” I asked. I picked up her food dish from the floor and filled it with her usual lunch, then refilled the water dish. She took a few bites of her food and then went back to running around my ankles.
“Dog, what’s wrong?” I asked. “Ohhh,” I exclaimed realizing what she needed. “Let me get my pants on.” I left the lunch fixings on the counter and retreated to the living room to pull on the clothes I wore after the fight the night before. I grabbed my dog’s leash and scooped her up once again, strapping the leash to the collar around her neck. “I’m taking Avery out for a walk,” I called up to my wife. “I’ll be back in a few, and I’m not taking keys!”
I shut the front door behind me and placed Avery on the cold concrete. “Don’t take so long,” I told her. I shivered. “It’s cold out here.”
The little shi-tzu pulled with all her might to get me to follow her. I felt bad that she was so small so I gave in and let her lead me down the block. Towards the end of the block she started sniffing at different pieces of grass. I was just happy she wasn’t pulling me anymore so I let the leash gain some slack and followed her slowly. I wrapped the leash around my wrist and shoved my hands in my pockets. My right hand hit something hard: the pack of cigarettes I had bought the night before.
I took out the pack and examined it carefully. I took a cigarette out. “No, Jordan,” I told myself. “You promised Clare you’d throw them out.” I took out the lighter I had gotten for free from the same pocket and lit the cigarette, inhaling the smoke and holding it for a few seconds before releasing it. I did it two more times, each time holding in the
smoke for a longer amount of time.
Blood started pumping in my ears, limiting my hearing. I felt my heart racing. A pain in my chest. “Oh, God, no,” I exclaimed. I dropped the cigarette to the street and stepped it out quickly. My dog was poking around one tree in particular so I sat down on the curb near the tree. I closed my eyes and waited for the pain to stop. It did rather quickly and soon my hearing returned to normal.
“I promised my wife I’d throw you out,” I said to the pack. “And throw you out I am.” I held the pack behind my head and threw it as hard as I could into the group of trees across from where I was sitting. I took a deep breath of fresh air and rose to my feet slowly. “Good riddance to bad habits from the old days.”