Blake opened one eye to peer at the wall next to him. Where in the world was he?
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With what seemed like a heroic effort, he opened his other eye as well. He blinked rapidly at the sunlight pouring in through the window. Trying to sit up, Blake adjusted his arms to hold up his torso.
He was shocked at the sight in front of him: cold, metal bars.
Grimacing, he realized that—for the second time that month—he was in jail.
He whispered a quick thank you prayer to God, for at least this time he had on pants.
Blake picked himself up off the floor. There was a laugh from behind him. He turned around, only then realizing that he wasn’t alone.
“Oh, man! You should have seen yourself last night,” said a hairy man wearing a jumpsuit and nothing else. He smiled brightly at Blake, revealing a row of missing bottom teeth and just two buckteeth sticking out prominently. “ You were something else! Singing and dancing. It was like a concert in here. Well, until the guard popped you good on the head and you fell asleep.”
“Uhh… Glad you enjoyed the show. You know how long I’ve been here?”
“Oh, just a couple hours. Y ou came in around, hrm, close to four o’clock? You weren’t wearing nothing but some boxer-briefs and a pair of lady panties on your head. It must have been one wild night!”
The stranger laughed.
Blake inspected his pants. He had had on jeans last night and not black cargo pants. “Where did I get these from?”
“Your Daddy. He stopped by to bail you out. Left you here. Figured you might as well sleep it off.”
“My dad stopped by and left me?” Blake said growing furious, “I can’t stand him!”
“You should just be happy someone came to get you. I’ve been here for three days already. This darn jumpsuit is starting to itch.”
The stranger began scratching himself and Blake turned away to give him so privacy.
“Guards! Yo! Guards!” Blake called, “I need to speak to my father!”
Blake heard the heavy door open and a guard quickly came around.
“Hey! Pretty boy’s finally thinking straight, huh? You done with your concert?” The guard smacked on his gum loudly between questions. He had amusement in his eyes as he stared at Blake. “Who do you think you are, Enrique Iglesias or somebody?”
“Listen, Leroy, can you please just get my dad?” Blake sat down on the prison cot next to his hairy cellmate.
“Yeah, go get his daddy, Leroy!” said the stranger, laughing to himself, still scratching. “Go get mine, too, while you’re at it!”
The guard idly ran a baton over the bars, a passive threat. “You watch your mouth now, Earle. I don’t want to hear anything out of you. And Blake, you’re free to go. No need to get your dad. He’s here already.”
Leroy opened the cell door.
“See you later, Blake!” Earle giggled to himself as Leroy escorted the young man away. “Same time next month!”
As he rounded the corner, Blake saw his father. It didn’t take two seconds for his father to stand and cross the waiting area, fuming and knit-browed.
He yelled, “Drunken and disorderly behavior? For the second time this month, Blake! What is wrong with you? I should have just left you there to rot.”
Blake’s head pounded. His body felt weak from the terrible sleep. He did not need this kind of harassment right now.
He said, “Oh, yeah, Dad. That would look great. The sheriff’s son rotting in jail.”
“How do you think it looks now, Blake? You, repeated arrested?”
“Look, if you’re done yelling, I’d like to go. I have things I need to get done.”
“Like what? More drunken behavior? You have a problem, Blake.”
“Whatever, Dad.”
“Listen to me,” Blake’s dad said, grabbing his arm. His voice seemed softer somehow. Or maybe Blake was just imagining it. Not enough sleep. “You’re drinking every night, getting into trouble. This has to stop, son.”
Blake shrugged from his father’s grip. “I’m in college. This is normal. I like to party. It’s not the end of the world, Dad.”
Blake turned to leave.
His dad called after him, saying, “You’re more than just a college student, Blake! How do you think Julie felt when she woke up last night? She was crying, looking for you.”
Blake’s heart tightened at the mention of his little daughter’s name.
“Low blow, Dad. You of all people have no right to tell me how to raise my kid. This conversation’s over.”
Blake marched off towards the door.
His dad grabbed his arm again, stopping him.
“I might not have been the perfect father, Blake, but I was always there for you. If you won’t get help for yourself, at least get help for Julie’s sake. I’m not asking you to do this. I’m telling you.”
Blake glared.
His dad continued. “If you don’t quit all the drinking, I’ll fight you for custody of Julie. That innocent little girl shouldn’t have to suffer because her daddy’s being a fool.”
And with that, Blake’s dad released his arm and marched off towards his desk.
Breathing heavy with fury, Blake left the station, his heart heavy, thinking of the words his father had said. He knew deep down that his father was trying to help him, but Blake didn’t take well to threats.
He walked the two blocks to the house he shared with his father and slowly opened the door, trying not to wake Julie.
“She’s still asleep, Blake,” said a soft voice from the living room.
“Oh, Auntie Lana. Uh, thanks for staying over. I really appreciate it.”
It occurred to him that in his fury, he had completely neglected to ask who was taking care of Julie in his absence. He had promised his Aunt Lana that he would be in before midnight.
Feeling terrible and sick at his own neglectful behavior, Blake sat down heavily on the couch, facing his aunt.
Aunt Lana took off her reading glasses and glared at him. “Do I need to say anything?”
“No. I’m so sorry–”
“You don’t need to be apologizing to me. You need to be apologizing to Julie.”
“I don’t know what got into me. I am so sorry.”
“You need to grow up. Stop being so selfish, Blake. Your little girl deserves better.”
“I know. God, I know.” Blake sighed. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately.”
“Blake, I know you hate for me to mention your mother…”
“Then don’t!” Blake stood and began to pace around the room.
“I feel that I have to.”
“Aunt Lana, no disrespect intended, but I will not sit here and listen to anything you have to say about Mom.”
“Actually, Blake, I’m not going to sit here while you go down the same path as her. “ His Aunt said, rising up from her seat to stand in front of him, “You’re only twenty-one! Why are you trying to piss your life away?”
Blake shook his head. “I… can’t seem to stop thinking about them. I get overwhelmed with Julie, and school, and then I start to think about Heather and Mom. I just….”
Blake looked past Lana at the window seat where his mom used to sit. When he was younger, he used to love to have her read to him there.
Aunt Lana placed a hand on his back, stilling his pacing. She said, “I know that losing your Mom and Heather to that car accident must have caused you unspeakable pain, Blake. It still hurts me to think about it, losing my sister like that. You don’t think I feel terrible, too? Today of all days?”
“I know, Aunt Lana. I know.” Blake shook his head. It was Valentine’s Day. It had been for several hours.
He had loved his mother and Heather so much. His mom had been so excited when Julie was born; and even more excited when he proposed to Heather, to keep them together as a family, for always.
He cried, “Why did she have to drink? Dad had made all these plans for them, he told me. Big romantic date…”
Blake’s voice cracked as the memories flooded him.
Aunt Lana said, “She drank every day, Blake, sweetheart. You need to acknowledge that. She had a problem.”
“No! She and dad had been fighting. Heather just wanted to help calm her down, to make sure she didn’t do anything crazy.”
Lana stepped back to the couch. She looked tired, but Blake hardly noticed.
She said, “Keep blaming your dad all you want. It’s time you grew up and face the fact that your mom was far from perfect. It pains me to say it, but if your mom hadn’t been drinking, Julie would still have her mother around. I loved her but loved doesn’t stop that she was an alcoholic, Blake. You don’t want to turn out like her.”
Blake closed his eyes. “I told Heather not to get in the car with Mom. I told her to stay here with me and Julie.”
“You know Heather. She felt she could save the world. Your mom included.”
Blake moved to the couch. He hesitated, then sat down. He leaned against his aunt for a hug.
He said, “I miss them, Aunt Lana. So much. Julie looks so much like Heather; it hurts to look at her sometime! I’m just so angry. So mad at God for taking them away from me.”
Aunt Lana stroked Blake’s hair as she hugged him close.
“They might be gone,” she said, “but Julie’s still here. She has pieces of both of them. You need to let go of the anger, stop the drinking. Julie doesn’t have her mother… don’t take away her father, too. She needs you, Blake.”
For several long minutes, Blake hugged his aunt, his chest heaving with soft, held-back sobs.
He quieted and calmed. His aunt smoothed his hair and rocked him slowly.
Blake said, “Aunt Lana?”
“Yes, honey?”
“Do you think they have meetings even on Valentine’s Day?”
“Who?”
Blake pulled away from his aunt, embarrassed. He bit his lip and said, “AA?”
Though she was shocked, Aunt Lana smiled. “I’ll call to find out.”