Paternal and Proud [LAMS Short Story]

IX - Uninhibited and Hearbroken

Philip was in his bedroom currently, laying on his stomach on his bed, propped up on his elbows, computer in front of him. It was dark in the room and the light from the screen was hurting his eyelids a considerable amount, but he was too lazy to get up to hit the lightswitch. He only had one last paragraph to type, anyway.

The headphones over Philip's ears were playing some upbeat love song that consisted of a twenty-something-year-old girl with amazing vocals belt out something about dreamy eyes and messy hair. When she reached the chorus, Philip smiled, mind automatically flitting to Theodosia Burr.

He'd only sat at lunch with her for one day and he was already nearly infatuated. She was so cheery and exciting to be around. Her smile was contagious, her confidence was radiant and literally attractive. Philip actually had a hard time staying away from her whenever he saw her. She was hilarious, but not at anyone else's expense.

And not that it really mattered much to Philip, but she was also drop-dead gorgeous. Her dark skin that reminded Philip of everything gentle and cozy about a drizzly day, her gestural hands that he had yet to hold, the sparkle in her eye that Philip had never seen absent...

He buried his face in his pillow, beaming ear-to-ear and giggling giddily, then pushing aside his computer and rolling around on his bed, hugging his pillow to his chest.

Wow, he couldn't wait to go to school on Monday and see her.

After a couple more minutes of dreamily gazing off into space and thinking about Theo, Philip sobered up and forced himself to finish his paragraph and go to bed. He shut the lid to his laptop and rolled off the bed to set it on his desk, then gently took off the headphones that covered his ears.

With the music turned off, Philip was wildly aware of the silence that filled the house. It was late enough that all his siblings were already tucked in and dreaming, but Philip listened acutely and wasn't surprised to hear footsteps downstairs.

Dad... Philip thought amusedly to himself. Never gets any sleep.

The smile died on his face, however, when he heard a choked sob and the sound of something small clinking off the countertop and rattling to the floor. Was that a bottle cap?!

The door was open and Philip was rushing down the stairs so fast that he barely touched the ground, running down the stairs two or three at a time.

"Dad?" Philip slid into the kitchen. His eyes were wild, wide with worry and he bent down to scoop up the crimped cap that belonged to the bottle of Sam Adams that his father was tipping back.

"You're drinking?" Philip blurted, only realizing a half a second later, when his father shot him an eye-roll that it was an obviously stupid question to ask. "I mean - you're drinking. What happened?"

"Nothing, Pip, go to bed," his father mumbled dully, letting loose strands of his hair dangle in his face, blocking the eye-contact that Philip was attempting to make with him.

"Dad..." Philip struggled to express his worry. His dad seemed to be almost crying, he was staring off into space, his hands were resting on the table, completely still. The last time he'd seen his father so... desolate - well, it had been long before Mr. John Laurens walked into his father's life. "...No," was all Philip could muster up.

"I said, go to bed, Pip," his dad muttered, resting his head in his hand and facing away from his son. "I'm fine."

Philip breathed out a nervous laugh. Like hell his dad was 'fine.' "Dad, you're not fine," Philip soothed. He pulled up a stool and sat next to his father at the counter, wrapping an arm gently over his shoulder. "Tell me what happened."