Now What?

Paul stood at the big bay window and watched Aunt Mary and Uncle Frank walk down the driveway and get into their car.  A few purple petals on the roof and windshield that had fallen from the beautiful old magnolia tree fluttered briefly in the air as they drove away, then settled slowly onto the pavement. The only sound was a clattering of dishes and silverware in the kitchen as his brother Harry loaded everything from the funeral reception into the dishwasher. His father had been seriously ill for some time but, even so, his death had come as a surprise.

After a many drinks, Paul’s father would sometimes talk about his early life. Paul’s grandfather, Harold, had been an angry, abusive man who disparaged everything that his father and his uncle Frank did while they were growing up. Even when his father became a wealthy man through his success with business and investments, it was never enough for his father to gain Harold’s approval. Widely envied for his money and success by almost everybody, the truth was that his father was deeply unhappy.

Paul finished the bourbon in his glass and headed over to the liquor cabinet for a refill. Leaning against the bar, he looked around the spacious room. A rugged stone fireplace dominated one corner, flanked on each side by floor to ceiling teak bookcases filled with leather-bound books. Original art works in gilded frames hung on the walls. A beautiful Steinway grand piano with a deep, black finish stood in an alcove.

Now he would inherit this luxurious home and all the wealth that his father had accumulated. Now he would be the envy of others for his success. Paul finished the bourbon and returned to the liquor cabinet for a refill, desperately avoiding the nagging question of whether he would also be unhappy.

He walked over to the Steinway, unplayed since his mother’s death many years before, that was now a display shelf for old family pictures. He stared at the wedding photo of his  robust, muscular father standing next to his radiantly beautiful mother. His father had the good looks and charm that his mother had found irresistible. She gave his father the unconditional love and acceptance that he so desperately needed.

Next to it was another picture from a fishing vacation many years later. Paul was just a few weeks short of his eleventh birthday and Harry had turned eight the prior spring. The whole family was standing on an old pier that stretched out into a mountain lake. The brothers were both proudly holding up stringers of fish. Their mom stood between them with a big smile, one hand on Harry’s shoulder, the other pointing proudly to Paul’s catch. His dad was standing  to one side, holding a bottle of beer and smiling proudly.

Paul’s reverie was broken when Harry appeared from the kitchen and picked up another photo. He studied it somberly for a moment, then with an emotional catch in his voice, said  “I can’t believe it has already been seven years.”

Paul set the fishing vacation photo back on the piano and walked over to Harry, looking with great reluctance at the picture of their last Christmas with their mother. The devastation that the cancer had wrought in her once bright, joyful face was almost too painful to look at. His father already had dry, wrinkled skin and a big belly.

Harry sadly stroked the image of her face with his finger. “And now Dad has gone to join her.”

“Well, at least I was here to tell him goodbye,” snarled Paul. “You were off somewhere having a great time with your pretty wife and couldn’t be bothered to come back.”

Harry hung his head. After a moment, he said “I guess I deserve that. But I’m here now. I want to be with you and help however I can.”

Paul looked at him angrily. “You help me? What did you do to help Dad when he needed it? Nothing! You walked away and left me with to deal with him by myself.” Paul tossed down the rest of his bourbon.

“That’s not fair,” shouted Harry. “What was I supposed to do? You know what he was like after a few drinks. He would beat the hell out of me for some stupid little mistake I made or for nothing at all. I could never do anything good enough for him and he was never there when I needed him.  Getting out of the house and as far away as possible was the only way I could hope to survive.”

“Well, congratulations. you were somewhere else ‘surviving’ while I was stuck here, trying to keep him from falling apart.” hollered Paul.

Harry was outraged. “You say I abandoned you?” Where the hell were you when I needed a little help? Bar hopping with Dad and Uncle Frank! It was you who did the abandoning!”

A flabbergasted Paul could only stare at Harry. Finally, he continued quietly. “Did you know that Dad would slap me around as well when he got drunk? You weren’t the only one.” He put his hand despairingly over his eyes as he let out a long sigh. “See, I discovered that if I got drunk with him and Uncle Frank, then he would sometimes let a few awful things slip out about his family. I would hug him and say I was sorry, and he would hug me back instead of beating me.”

There was a long, shocked silence as Harry stared at Paul. Finally he asked, “Is what you are telling me is that you had to choose between getting drunk with him or not drinking and getting beat up?”

“Yeah” was all Paul could manage as he refilled his glass and flopped down on the couch again. Paul looked again at the wedding picture of their parents. “You don’t know what it’s been like, being the one who stayed, being the one that was with him almost every day – being the one who had to watch him fall apart.”

So many images from years ago raced through Harry’s mind as he sat there, staring at his brother. After a time, with tears in his eyes, he managed remorsefully, “I can only guess what it must have been like for you to stay and try to help dad, especially after mom died … I think I now have an idea why you felt abandoned when I disappeared and left you to deal with it alone … I’m so sorry about that.”

Paul stared at his glass for a moment, then took a big swallow.  “Me too, kid.” he mumbled avoiding any eye contact.

After a moment, Harry continued. “Paul, I have always adored you. You have been my champion big brother all my life. But I look at you now, guzzling bourbon like it was holy water, and I can’t help but wonder if you aren’t also abandoning yourself to the same end as our father. I don’t know if I could survive if I lost you too.”

That set Paul off again. “Where do you get off showing up after all this time and start lecturing me on how to deal with it?! A few drinks don’t hurt anyone.”

Harry’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Paul, do you really believe that?”

Paul was silent for a moment, then said bitterly, “What the hell do you know about it? Lil’ perfect mama’s boy who has never even been tipsy is telling me that it’s easy and all I have to do is stop drinking and it will all get better.”

“That hurts, Paul. I know I’ve been very judgmental all my life and always sure I knew all the answers. Well, life has banged me around a bit and I’m a bit clearer about the absurdity of that – especially when it comes to alcohol addiction. I’m sorry I didn’t handle it better before, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see that you’re drinking to escape all the pain of the past several years.”

Paul said nothing, the memory of his father’s lifeless body in the casket overwhelming him.

“I’m here with you now, Paul. I promise I won’t ever abandon you again, and I’ll do my best to … hide my vast knowledge of all the answers.” Harry just couldn’t resist the urge to poke fun at himself, and they both chuckled, releasing the tension a bit. “But there are others who can actually offer valuable support and encouragement to find your own answers. Like Alcoholics Anonymous, for example.”

“Yeah, I’ve read about AA.” said Paul sarcastically. “Give yourself to Jesus. Make amends to the world. Start every sentence with ‘I’m an alcoholic’. It’s a pile of shit.”

Harry stared at him for a long time. “Paul, do you really want to continue like this? Without any hope that you might be able to create a better life?”

“Hope?” Paul pursed his lips with a skeptical frown. “That’s all very nice but I have no interest in sitting in a room full of strangers and listening to their sad stories. That’s not going to fix anything.”

“Are you really sure?” Then, another joke: “I’m flattered that you’re emulating your know-it-all brother.” They both laughed out loud this time. “Look, I have a colleague at work who has been in AA for quite some time. He was in terrible shape before he started, drinking constantly after work, trying to cope with a divorce and a lot of other stuff. He was sure he could handle it all himself – until he finally figured out that he couldn’t. He said AA changed his life.”

Paul frowned. “Well I’m glad your friend found AA helpful, but I just don’t see how calling myself an alcoholic over and over is going to help anything. It’s like I’m putting a branding mark on my forehead.”

“According to my friend, it has nothing to do with labeling yourself. It was about owning the reality of your situation. It was about saying you were there to work on it, not to hide from … Oh geez, there I go again. I’m hopeless.” He smacked his forehead in mock punishment.

Paul smiled again. “It seems ‘hopeless’ runs in the family genes.” Then he frowned and observed in a whisper, “It still feels weird.”

Harry nodded. “You’ve got a lot of good questions that I can’t answer. Why don’t you come back with me for a few days? I’ll introduce you to my friend and you can ask all the questions you want. I love you so much, Paul. Won’t you please just check it out?”

Paul hesitated, looking again at the wedding picture of their parents.

“Look Paul, you can stay with Becky and me. It won’t cost you a penny.”

“It’s not about the money. I can pay my own way,” said Paul defiantly. Then, more doubtfully, “Are you sure it would be OK? Becky was pretty clear she didn’t want to have anything further to do with me after your wedding reception.”

Harry winked at Paul. “That probably had something to do with the fact that you were drunk as a skunk, knocked over the table with the wedding cake, then fell face first into it.” Harry paused for a moment, then added, “I’ve already cleared it with Becky. She is more than happy to support you while you figure out what’s next.”

When Paul still hesitated, he added, “You’ve never met your little nephew, you know. Charlie is almost four years old and just as cute as can be. It’s the perfect opportunity to get that little detail handled  at the same time!”

Paul gritted his teeth, then his shoulders relaxed. “Alright, Harry. But I’m not making any promises.”

“None expected or required, Paul. It’s just to find out if you think it could be right for you.”

Paul smiled, then asked, “Would you happen to have a recent picture of Charlie with you?”