Written In The Stars: Book Two

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: PAINFUL REALITY

While the two of them napped upstairs, Elijah ran to the store a block away, a giant list of ingredients in hand for the casserole recipes he found. Quick, simple things he could make that would last the family. Not as sophisticated cooking as Mary was used to making for himself, and Elijah also felt he'd moved beyond this sort of lazy cooking. But his mind was barely half there, and any meals he was now used to making for himself would just go to waste, with no one having much of a stomach to eat.

At least he could make the dinners with little concentration, because no matter what he did, his mind was still on Madeline. She'd only written him six letters in the four years they'd been separated, sharing little about her life with him. If something big happened in her life, she'd say it, but not what it was, only that she thought about sharing it with him, then realized it wasn't her place to think that anymore.

Elijah wondered if she did as they both had before, and wrote him letters she never sent, going into detail about her life, sharing everything with him, even the anger and sadness she felt toward Elijah. He still had so many from before he couldn't bring himself to read. He'd read some, probably half. But that was when he'd still been a drunk, and couldn't remember what they said even a day after reading them. He only knew he read them because they'd be laying flat on his living room table when he came to.

On the one-year anniversary of his sobriety, Elijah rustled through the box and picked a single letter to read. More than that could cause him to back peddle, and Elijah had worked too damn hard to risk it.

The letter he'd chosen hadn't been of anything important. There was no deep subject matter within the lines, or anything he could hold on to. It was just about her parents considering a new family dog, then deciding against it because neither of them were home very much, and Madeline only had a few years left of school, and would be heartbroken to leave her dog behind when she went off to college. Still, he'd treated that piece of paper like the holy grail.

With all three of the casseroles made, Elijah placed one in the preheated oven, set the timer, then put the other two in the fridge. He got plenty of salad fixings while he was there, along with various things to make sandwiches with, assuming they'd want something small most of the time.

When Elijah's phone rang on the kitchen counter, he saw Jay's name on the screen. He wanted to say 'fuck it', and just let it go to voicemail, but the man would just call again.

"Hey."

"Barbecue at my place. Seven o'clock. Your grumpy ass better be there, cause you blew off the last three."

What Elijah learned was it always hurt just a little more having to say a painful reality rather than hear it. When you heard it, it allowed you to go into a daze, or get taken over by one immeasurable emotion while the others faded in background. When you had to say the words, especially the first time, they burned you raw. There was no tuning yourself out, or walking away from your own words. There was just the bitter reality of them, and knowing the person you were speaking to would suffer from hearing them.

That, and the words became so much more real. It's like they grew a life force being spoken, one that consumed your own thoughts rather than the person who was hearing them. Saying the reality aloud meant there was no longer the option of hiding from it.

"Madeline was in a car accident last night."

"Holy shit, are you serious?"

Elijah's green eyes squinted at nothing in particular. "Do you think that's something I'd joke about?"

"No," Jay answered quickly. "Is she okay?"

"She isn't dead." Having to say the words of her being in a car accident sucked enough to say, where Elijah had to remind himself of the three silver linings they had.

Madeline wasn't dead, hadn't suffered brain damage, or a spinal injury. She was beat up to all hell, but none of her injuries she'd suffered were permanent. There may be a few lasting difficulties she'd have to endure. He'd have to do what he did best and study up.

Elijah rubbed his eyes, trying to remember the list. Most of the time, he had damn near a photographic memory, but he wasn't in his right mind when listening to the doctor. "Her leg and shoulder are fucked up, and they had to put a bone back in her arm. Something's messed up with her pelvic bone, and she broke some ribs. That's all I remember. Nothing she won't survive through, but she's still in the hospital, and the recovery can take up to six months."

"Did you go to the hospital? Did you see her?"

Like not going to the hospital was even an option. Seeing her was, but Elijah didn't seem to have much control over that either. "I went to the hospital, yes. I saw her, but she was all drugged up and confused and shit. Her parents are upstairs now, resting."

A heavy sigh came from the other end of the phone. "I know you're not okay right now, Elijah, but are you good enough where I shouldn't be worrying about you, or do you want me to come over? Have you called your sponsor?"

He'd considered calling his sponsor, but right now, Elijah was holding it together okay. If Madeline's condition was still up in the air, he'd still be at the hospital, temptation out of reach. "I'm good for now," Elijah assured his friend as he rubbed his eyes.

"Go lay down, Elijah. I know you haven't slept since you found out, and you need sleep."

"I'll sleep later," Elijah said. "Right now I have to call my boss and let him know I need a few days off. I have assignments I need to email to my teachers, and-"

"Go the fuck to sleep, Elijah," Jay told him with more conviction. "Everything you need to do can wait until later. If you don't sleep, you won't be able to focus on her or her parents when you need to. You'll have mood swings that could fuck up your sobriety, because this is Just M we're talking about, and that it's her is going to be your undoing if you don't focus on yourself just a little."

Elijah relented, knowing Jay was right. He slept little, but he got a good three hours of sleep every night, sometimes five if he was lucky. As Elijah looked at the clock on the wall, he saw he hadn't slept in thirty-two hours. "Yeah, okay."

"Call me if you need anything. Groceries, company, a ride. Whatever."

There was something special about Jay. He spoke his truth, while also always being understanding and calm. He got in your face when he had to and took his friendships seriously. Nothing was out of his element or made him uncomfortable when you needed to talk.

It was Jay who found him covered in vomit on his bathroom floor. Jay who drove him to rehab with Mitch, and visited often as soon as he was allowed. Jay who went with him to his first several AA meetings, just to make sure Elijah held up his part of the bargain. Fuck, it was even Jay who suggested knocking down his dad's house once he'd been out of rehab for two months.

He'd moved in with him for the first eight months of sobriety in the real world, and against his new bride's wishes. The first six months was to help him keep his head above water, and once his therapist prescribed him medication for night terrors, as well as medication for his depression and anger issues, Jay had been the one to give him his pills, making sure Elijah didn't know where they were so he couldn't take the whole bottle.

At Elijah's eight month sobriety mark, Jay finally felt comfortable giving him the space he needed to rebuild his life. Still, he did more than any friend could ever be expected to do, and then some. The other guys were his buddies, but Jay was on a level all his own, and the longest running friendship he'd had in his life, apart from his friendship with Madeline.