Dry Run

     “You ok?” I asked following Marrianne down the the hall to the living room.  “I mean as ok as you can be?”

     ”Yes,” she said sitting on the couch, “Mom had been sick for a while.  We tried to get her to move in with us but she said no.  Charlie asked if she wanted to move in with him and she said she was happy here.”

     I thought back to our phone calls and the edge in her voice.  She was worried about her mom.

     “She was managing all right until a couple months ago then things just cratered.”

     “Oh, Mare, I’m so sorry.  What do you need?  Is there anything I can help you with?”

     “No,” she smiled and looked around the house.  “It’s just...” her voice trailed off.

     “You’ve got Kyle and the kids.”

     “Don’t get me started,” she said rolling her eyes.

     “Oh really?!?  I thought everything was...”

     “He’s a great dad and when he works he makes really good money but the consulting hasn’t been good the last two years.”

     “Sorry.”  I could feel the small bottle of Jager in my pocket.

     “And ...  he’s a shit husband,” she confessed.  I hung my head and exhaled.  “That’s the other reason I’ve been going back and forth.  I’ve been here since Mom had her heart attack.  I don’t know when or if I’m going back.
     “90% of my job is work from home.  If I really need to go into the office they have a location in Hartford.  The kids already have their own rooms.”  This was a well thought out plan that was finally being vocalized.  It felt like a dry run for a conversation she would be having very soon.  “I’m re-evaluating things.”
     “How are the kids taking it?”
     “They’re little.  They know something’s going on but they don’t really know.”

     “Damn!”

     “I know.  It’s a lot.  Between that and Mom it’s been a shit show.”

     “I had no idea.”

     “Oh that’s right.  You’re not on twit/face/insta/space.”

     “Naw.  I just couldn’t do it any more.  The politics were just too ugly.  I just kept being disappointed by people.  Rather than fire friends I just took myself out of the equation.”

     “Makes sense,” she said, taking a deep breath and leaning her head back.  “You really didn’t know I was here?”

     “I didn’t.  I was just coming to do a shot of Jager on the porch to pay tribute to Trudy.  I had no idea you were here.”

     Her nose pinched up and she furrowed her brow.

     “Mom didn’t drink Jager-Blah,” she seemed disgusted by the thought of it.

     “Neither do you.  But I remember a conversation we had years ago when we were kids.  I joked about coming to Boston, drinking Jager like it was my job, then stumbling back to your apartment.  You let me know I would end up hog-tied in the living room, or locked in a closet, or some crazy shit like that.”

     She laughed a well needed laugh.

     “It would have been for your own good,” she smiled and her baby blues twinkled for the first time.

     “Probably.  Hey, kid,” I said, standing up, “It sounds like you have a lot on your plate.  What do you need?  Is there anything I can help you with?”

     “No, but you know what?  I will do that shot with you.”

     The night air had chilled.  It had been a while since I had done shots of Jager.  The body heated booze warmed it’s way to my belly.

     “Blah! I don’t remember it tasting this much like cough syrup,” I said choking a little.

     “I do,” said Marrianne, covering her mouth while she coughed.  “Like I said, Jager-blah.”

     I looked into the dark sky and tried to peer beyond the stars.

     “Are you ok?”

     I took a deep breath and gave her a quick synopsis of my recent interactions with Derich.

     “Wow.”  She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and started typing furiously.  “He’s married to Karen, right?”

     “Yeah,” I said confused.

     “Is this him?” She showed me a picture of a seemingly happy couple on their twit/face/insta/space.

     “Holy shit!”  The third picture showed an obviously pregnant Karen.  This explained everything.  He was going to have three little kids under the age of ten.  If things were financially tight before they were about to be down right constricting now.  The short temper and the doctor rants made complete sense.

     “How do you know Karen?” I asked as the depths of Derich’s dilemma hit me.

     “We used to life guard together in high school.  Our youngest are the same age.”

     Just then the video app on her phone started to ring.  The word Home popped up on the screen.

     “The kids always want to see me before they go to sleep,” she explained as I handed the phone back to her.

     “Happy I got a chance to see you.”  I whispered like they could hear me.  “Let me know how things work out with this dry run you’re trying.”  

     “I will she,” she said headed back inside.

     “Mommy!!!” I heard the two little voices say in unison just before she closed the door. 

     I slipped into the drivers seat of the car and once again thought about the the last few years.  I had been on my own dry run.  Now was the time to decide what direction I wanted to take.  There were so many options.  There was so much to fear.

     The grid was laid out.  I knew what responsibilities needed to be met and how to meet them.  I knew the way.  I had everything I needed to get there without getting derailed.  I just needed to grip the steering wheel and breathe.