“Yes.”
“He OK?”
Josie nodded. “Looked a little rough when he got in, but he cleaned up. He’s just tired now, but he’s so glad to be home.”
I fought off the anger and tried to focus on the relief. On moving forward. “So what now?”
“He says he’s going to do better. Get a new job.”
“Is he going to go to rehab?”
Her eyes dropped. “We can’t afford that.”
“I’ve told him a thousand times I’d pay for it.”
“He won’t go. He’s too proud.”
“Meetings then. AA. He could get a sponsor.”
“I…I don’t know if he would. He always says he doesn’t need them.”
“You have to tell him that’s the condition, Josie. If he keeps drinking, he’s going to keep doing this.” My voice rose. I didn’t mean to be hard on her, but sobriety was the only hope Aaron had. Without it, he’d never heal enough to take care of his family. I didn’t even want to think about what gutter or cell I’d be in if I hadn’t quit drinking.
“Shhh. I know.” Her eyes were glassy with tears. “But he just got here, OK? I didn’t want to say anything that would make him angry or ashamed. I just wanted him to stay.”
The bedroom door opened, and my brother appeared in jeans and a black t-shirt, his hair combed. At the sight of him, my chest got tight. Without thinking we walked toward each other and hugged. No matter what, he was my brother and I loved him. We’d been through so much together, and I didn’t want to give up on him, but fuck—he had to try harder.
“Glad you’re back.” I stepped back from him and assessed his appearance. We were built alike, both tall and muscular, thick through the chest with strong arms and hands. His nose was crooked, since it had been broken more than once, and his beard was longer, but we had the same brown eyes and short dark hair.
“Me too.” He cleared his throat. “Thanks.”
From downstairs we heard the shouts of the girls and some banging noises, and Josie sighed. “I’ll go help them. They’re probably making a big mess.”
As soon as we were alone, I spoke. “Josie said you’re sober?”
“Yes.” Aaron shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Tell me you’re going to stay that way.”
“I’m gonna try.”
“You have to do more than try, Aaron.” I tried to keep my voice down, but it was hard. “This shit can’t happen anymore. You’ve got a pregnant wife and three daughters.”
“You think I don’t know that?” My brother’s eyes filled with tears, and he struggled to hold them off. “Every day I was away from them was agony. I kept drinking just to numb myself from the pain of missing them. They’re everything to me.”
“Then act like it,” I snapped, surprising even myself. I wasn’t normally this hard on him. “Where the fuck were you?”
“Different places.”
“Working?”
“Some construction jobs here and there.”
“Josie needed you. Those kids needed a father.”
He closed his eyes. “I know. Thanks for being here for them.”
“Well, I’m not doing this anymore.” It wasn’t true. I’d always be there for them, but my brother needed to hear some hard words. If he thought I’d always be there to step in for him every time he bailed, he’d never have a reason to change. “Get your shit together and be a husband. Be a father. Be a man.”
“I will.” He took a breath. “I need to get a job.”
“You have to stay sober to get a job.”
“I told you, I’m gonna try.” His hands came out of his pockets, fingers curling into fists. “But every time I make a promise, I can’t fucking keep it, so I’m not making any more promises. I just set myself up for failure.”
I inhaled and exhaled through my nose, jaw clenched tight. “Whatever you have to do, whatever you have to tell yourself, make it happen, Aaron. Or you’re going to end up alone.”
“Josie said she would never leave me,” he said stubbornly.
“Good thing one of you can keep a promise.” I heard the kids chattering excitedly as they came up the steps, but suddenly I wasn’t in the mood for Christmas. Josie and the girls would want time alone with Aaron, and he needed time with them. It needed to sink in how lucky he was to have all this to come back to. “I gotta go.”
I heard him calling to me as I went out the front door, but I didn’t turn back. Two minutes later I was speeding down the street, no idea where to go, no place to put all these conflicting feelings, and no one to talk to about it. Moving around and keeping to myself as much as I did meant I had a lot of acquaintances in various places, but no close friends. Josie and Aaron were really all I had.
The longer I drove around, the more worked up I got. I was mad at my father for taking out his rage on his children, for not teaching us how to be men. I was mad at my brother for fucking up the best thing in his life—his family. I was mad at Josie for not standing up for herself and her kids. I was mad at myself for being resentful that Aaron had come home. And I was mad at the mother I didn’t remember, whose only lesson to her sons was that love wasn’t enough to make someone stay. How dare she leave that note? Sometimes I thought the note had fucked me up worse than her leaving.