Page 4 of Gift of You
“I’m trying.”
He was not trying.
Keeping my hands on him, I maneuvered until I was in front of him, got my hands under his arms, and pulled him up to stand by brute force.
“Whoa,” he said, now semi-standing face-to-face with me. “You’re strong.”
Ignoring that, I said, “If I support you, do you think you can walk?”
“Dunno. Let’s find out,” he said and attempted to take a step to the left.
“Wrong way.” Sighing, I managed to turn him in the other direction, and with a lot of grunting and cursing, I got him the fifteen steps or so to his apartment door. Propping him against the wall next to the door, while keeping one hand on him just in case, I unlocked the door and swung it open. Turning back to the stranger, I caught him staring at me with an odd expression. I hoped it wasn’t an indication that he was about to throw up. “I suppose you need me to help you get inside?”
“Prob’ly.”
“Come on, then.” I managed to get him over the threshold and kicked the door shut behind me, relieved to be out of the cold. I didn’t think we’d make it all the way to the bedroom, so I led him over to the couch, where he immediately sat down and tipped over onto his side. I turned to go, having done my duty well enough, but something about the way he’d looked at me earlier had me pausing.
I thought maybe it had been sadness that I’d seen in his expression, but that was a ludicrous thought. So far I’d seen this man nearly naked begging for toiletries, and now drunk out of his mind. I couldn’t possibly know what he was feeling. Still, I turned back and began removing his shoes. Setting those neatly on the floor, I pulled his feet up onto the couch so he was lying fully on his side. I pulled a blanket from the back of a nearby chair and draped it over him, then removed his glasses and set them on the side table. Moving into the kitchen, I rummaged around until I found an oversized plastic mixing bowl, and a glass which I filled up with water. I brought both items back overto where he was now lightly snoring, set them where he could easily find them, and after giving him one last look, returned back to the comfort of my own apartment.
It would be some time, however, before I was able to fall asleep.
5
LOUIS
December 24
The sunclearly had a vendetta against me. I wasn’t sure what I’d ever done to offend it, but it was obviously trying to kill me, as evidenced by the way it shone aggressively into my eyes.
Could a person die by headache? If so, I prayed death would take me quickly and put me out of my misery.
Gingerly, I cracked one eye open, then immediately slammed it shut again.Jesus. Why had I thought drinking copious amounts of champagne was a good idea? At the age of forty-two, I knew better. Not only had I had the unpleasant experience of a champagne-induced hangover to teach me this lesson previously, I’d also had enough experience with excessive consumption to know that the resulting hangover in my forties was an entirely different animal than one incurred in my twenties. Not worth it.
I attempted to open my eye once again, and when I didn’t immediately feel a stabbing pain directly in my eyeball, I chanced opening the other. Slowly, I made my way to a sitting position, immediately resting my elbows on my knees and myhead in my hands, willing the dizziness to subside as my stomach gave a mighty heave. Taking steady, measured breaths, I was thankfully able to beat back the nausea. Ihatedthrowing up, though I supposed it wasn’t an activity anyone particularly enjoyed.
Opening my eyes once again, I examined my surroundings.Shit. Everything was blurry. Where the fuck were my glasses? I felt around on the side table to my right until eventually I located them and put them on. The relief at being able to see warred with the pounding in my head all the motion had stirred up.
Painkillers. I needed some painkillers, stat. And food. Preferably from a greasy diner with a cook named Moe and a server who called everyone honey and didn’t take shit off anyone.
I eyed the glass of water on the side table, knowing I needed some of that too, but on an empty stomach it was sure to come right back up. Gingerly I rose, pausing for a moment when the room spun and my stomach protested. There was no beating back the nausea this time, and I made a beeline for the kitchen sink, knowing the bathroom was too far away. I kicked something on my way, but didn’t have time to see what it was in my haste.
Barely making it in time, I heaved into the sink, my stomach cramping with the effort until there wasn’t anything left. I laid my head on the counter next to the sink and turned on the tap, angling the faucet to wash down the evidence of last night’s poor decisions. My toe was now throbbing in time with my head, and I desperately wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep this off for the next three days, but I knew that without some sort of food in my system, there’d be no rest for the hungover.
I turned off the water and stepped back into the living room, cautiously bending over to pick up my shoes and the bowl I now realized was the obstacle I’d kicked.How had that gotten there?I set it absently on the side table, then moved back toward the bedroom, replaying the events of last night to the best of my recollection.
Not typically a blackout drunk, I usually remembered most of my drunken escapades, even when I’d rather not. Hayden’s dad had brought me home. I’d stumbled up the steps of the balcony, only to realize I’d locked myself out of my rental. Because my keys were in my car. That was still parked back at the cabin.
Retrieving my car was a puzzle I’d work on solving later.
I’d knocked on the neighbor’s door—Matthew, I think was the name Hayden had mentioned—then decided I was too tired to wait and had sat down right in front of his door. I swiped my hand over my face in delayed embarrassment when I thought about the look on his face after he’d opened the door and I’d tumbled inside, landing on his feet.
Crossing into the bathroom, I started the shower and began to strip out of my suit, now wrinkled beyond recognition. What an ass I’d been, interrupting the poor guy—who’d likely been asleep—for the second time in the same day. And yet, he’d still come to my aid, both times. Sure, he might have been gruff in demeanor, but his actions had been kind. He’d even taken off my shoes and glasses before draping a blanket over me.
I brushed my teeth, scrubbing away the foul taste in my mouth, while contemplating how I’d managed to arrive at this point. Not this literal point, but the figurative one. The one where I’d managed to embarrass myself twice in the same day. I thought I was supposed to have outgrown things like this twenty years ago. It was no wonder I was alone.
Disgusted with myself, for both my actions of the previous day and the morose turn my thoughts had taken, I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water pound my back and shoulders while the steam billowed around me.
Ten cleansing minutes later, as the water was starting to turn cold, I stepped out, feeling much more like myself. The headache had subsided to a manageable level, and I’d found my sense of equilibrium once again. I’d been a dumbass yesterday, to be sure, but there was nothing to be done for it now. No sense in lingering over something I couldn’t change. And while I was staying here for the rest of the week, and would likely cross paths with Matthew once or twice more, it wasn’t like I would ever see him again after that.
