Page 21 of Conviction
What the actual fuck?
I shut my eye again and huff.
“I don’t know who you are, or what you want, but I’m telling you all now, I’m not getting up. So you can all go get fucked.”
I turn my head in the opposite direction, just to let them know I’m not moving.
“Oi… Reed, I’ve flown twelve thousand miles to come and see you. I’m not talking to you from your bedroom doorway, and I’m not coming in because I’m scared of what I might catch. I’d rather take my chances with Ebola than step foot in there and face whatever’s causing that smell. It’s rank.”
For fuck’s sake! They’re not gonna leave me alone are they?
I roll over onto my back and slowly sit. Opening my eyes, I take in the people standing in my bedroom door. There’s my dad, with a bucket in his hand, Lawson, looking thoroughly pissed off, Tyler, standing with his arms folded and trying hard but failing not to grin and the biggest surprise of all, Josh Gardner, my life-long best friend. I can’t help but smile as soon as our eyes meet and then it hits me. Everything I’ve held inside for the past few weeks, every thought, feeling and emotion that I’ve drunk myself into unconsciousness to forget, come rushing to the surface. I rest my back against the headboard, bring up my knees, drop my head between them and cry, like a fucking pussy… I cry.
My dad is the first one there. He stands at the edge of my bed, pulls my head into his chest and holds me, and it feels so fucking good. Something as simple as human contact, being held by someone that genuinely cares, you can’t put a price on that. I wrap my arms around his waist, press the side of my face into his chest and hold on tight while I just let the tears come. My shoulders shake and my chest and throat hurt with the force that they leave my body. My dad just keeps holding me, gently rubbing the back of my head.
“Let it out, son, let it all out. You shoulda done this weeks ago.” I feel him take a deep breath in and then let it out slowly. “Take it from someone who knows, locking yourself away from the people that love ya and drowning your sorrows in a bottle, never helped anyone.”
Somewhere in the distance, I hear my dad’s wife Sandra, telling everyone to get out and go and wait downstairs.
“We love ya, Con. We’re all worried about ya, mate. Now get yourself in the shower and put on some clean clothes. Sandra’s gonna make some breakfast and strip this bed.”
I look up into my dad’s blue eyes, but he kneels down so we’re at eye level and rests his hands on each of my shoulders. “None of it’s your fault,” he shakes his head as he talks. “None of the horrible things that's happened to you are your fault. You’re a good man, Conner. You could’ve grown up to be a complete arsehole, blaming the world for all the things that were out of your control, but you didn’t. You turned it all around, and I’m so very proud of you son, so very, very proud of the man you’ve become.”
I take in a shaky breath, stunned at my dad’s words.
“In saying all of that, you stink boy, so do us all a favour and go and get in that shower.”
I wipe my nose on the back of my hand and give him a small smile.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Anytime mate, anytime.” He pats my back a couple more times then leaves.
I make my way downto my kitchen, feeling like shit but looking and smelling a whole lot better than I have for the last few weeks, or however long it’s been since I got back from the States.
As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I can hear talking and laughter coming from the kitchen. For some reason, the sounds mixed with the smell of bacon makes my chest and my throat tighten again. Tears sting my eyes as I hear my brother laugh. I’m suddenly overwhelmed by the loneliness I’ve felt since Jet’s death. I know it’s my own fault. I know I’ve handled things badly by shutting myself away from the people that wanted to help me, but I felt like everything was out of my control. What Jet did, my thoughts, feelings and emotions, the fans reactions and grief, they were all things that were out of my control. So I stepped away. If I couldn’t control the situation, then I’d remove myself and find something I could control. I locked myself away with a case of Wild Turkey Pure Honey and drank myself into beautiful oblivion. But I know now is the time to sort my shit out and face the world. It was time to take back control of my life.
Everyone except Sandra is sitting around my large dining table. I love this room, it’s the reason I’d bought the house. It is one big open space that contains a large kitchen and breakfast bar, a huge dining table that seats fourteen, a couple of big leather sofas, that face a massive open fire and my big, fuck off television. There are timber bi-fold doors that go around three sides of the room and open out onto the patio, pool and gardens of the property. I smile to myself as I look around at everyone sitting at the table. If they knew how proud I was of this room they’d all take the piss out of me, but if you’d had the upbringing I’d had and lived in some of the places I did, you’d get where I was coming from. This home is mine. I own it outright. No mortgage and no loan. It was in serious need of renovation and modernisation when I’d bought it, and I worked side by side with my dad and my brothers to make it what it is today.
Damn, fucking straight I’m proud.
My eyes meet Josh’s, and he gives me a small smile and a head nod.
“What the fuck you doing here, Gardner? You’re looking sharp man… looking sharp.”
He stands up from the table and doesn’t hesitate to take the three steps toward me and pulls me in for a blokey cuddle and a few slaps on the back.
“Good to see ya, mate. So sorry about Jet. I did leave you a few messages, but from what I hear things have been messy for the last few weeks. You doing okay?”
I let out a deep breath. “I’ve been a total mess, to be honest with ya Josh, but I know I need to get my shit together. There’s nothing I can do to bring him back.” I look him square in the eye as I speak. I have no secrets from Josh, we’ve known each other since infant school and although we don’t get to catch up with each other too often these days, I still love him like a brother.
“You look really well, Josh. It’s good to see ya.”
“Thanks, I just had a week away with Soph.”
My stomach lurches and my chest tightens at the mention of Josh’s sister, Sophie. It’s not that I don’t like the girl, I do. Growing up, she was like a little sister to me, but she’s Meebs’ best mate, so we usually don’t mention her. It’s sort of an unwritten rule between us. We’re blokes for fuck’s sake, we don’t do all that feelings bollocks. He knows I hurt, but he also knows that I don’t want to talk about it.
“How is she?” I ask. He nods his head slowly. He also knows what I’m asking, without actually saying the words.
