To Build a Home

11 | Poison and Wine

Once we were inside the guest room, Charlie put his bag on the floor and embraced me. It was sudden and almost knocked me over. He kissed my cheek and under my ear and tried burrowing his face into any corner of my neck he could find, his body getting heavier and heavier, until I was holding him up with my shoulder. I heard him start to cry. "Woah," I said. "What's this?"

"I had no idea where you were," he said again, holding onto me as if I was fading.

"I'm right here." I lifted his face with my hands and wiped his tears.

Although we had briefly discussed my disappearance over wine in the kitchen, we couldn't talk freely with Darren there. Instead, we filled Charlie in on everything that had happened and Charlie, in turn, answered all of Darren's million questions––how did you meet, what do you do, when was your last home renovation? We must have been down there for hours.

"I think I had too much to drink," Charlie said. He was unsteady in the bedroom and his eyes searched for mine, swaying to an imaginary song.

"Let's get you into the bed."

I walked Charlie over and helped him lie down. Once he was on his back, I removed his shoes and pants. I sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his hair. His eyes were closed, his mouth open. He was fighting sleep.

"I'm sorry," I said. I couldn't say it enough. I must have said it a hundred times in the kitchen. I was going to have to say it to everyone.

I took off my own clothes and got in bed next to Charlie. I turned the light off and unlocked my phone. I scrolled through each How are you? and Is everything ok? text. I made sure to respond to every message. Sorry, my phone has been off. Everything is ok here in PA. We buried my brother today. Talk soon.

I didn't include the fact that I had missed the burial, my two-year-old nephew was recovering from a fever, and my boyfriend, who I hadn't spoken to in almost a week, drove five hours to find out if I was dead too.

Then there was a knock at the door. I was halfway through my tenth text when I saw Darren peeking through the crack. The light from the hallway sliced through the darkness of the bedroom. I looked up from my phone, my face illuminated by the blue of the small screen in my palm.

"Is everything ok in there?" Darren whispered.

I got out of bed as quietly as I could and shooed Darren into the hall. "Charlie's sleeping," I said. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to check on you guys." We had said goodnight maybe twenty minutes before. It had been a struggle to get Charlie upstairs. And then, "Why didn't you mention him?"

I realized I was in my underwear and tried to subtly pull my shirt down a little. "I honestly don't know. I was preoccupied and overwhelmed. I wasn't myself. It's been a long week."

Darren stepped forward. The house was quiet with everyone else asleep. "I thought..." He trailed off. He looked below my eyes and then at the wall.

"What?" I asked.

He was swaying to the same imaginary song as Charlie. "Am I the only one who can hold their liquor?" I asked, turning Darren around and guiding him to the end of the hall.

"I don't drink," he said. He burped. And then he tripped over his burp.

"Be quiet," I said. "Noah and Charlie are sleeping."

Darren, very loudly, said, "Shhhhhhhhhhh."

I opened the bedroom door at the other end of the hall and guided Darren inside. We were about halfway to the bed when he stopped in his tracks. I almost fell from the sudden change in momentum.