The Jones Boys -Before Port Charles -Part 4
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The Boys Den. That's what their mother called it. It was the basement TV room that their parents had finished years ago, with the sole purpose of being a place for the boys to hang out and entertain friends without bothering anyone; and anyone usually meant their father, who was very easily bothered these days.
It was where Tony had fallen asleep that Friday night, while watching TV. He had been invited to hang out with some friends who planned to hit up a couple of discos in town, but Tony had passed. He had stayed up all night, the previous night, studying for one of his med school exams and he was beat.
He probably would have slept straight through until morning, but a thumping on the wall above where he lay on the couch had woken him. He opened his eyes to find two legs, dangling from the small window up near the ceiling.
"What the hell?"
Tony quickly sat up and realized it was Andy, trying to shimmy his way in the window. Tony didn't have to look at the clock to know it was way past Andy's 10:00 curfew. He had fallen asleep with the TV on and the picture had turned to snow so he knew it was well past midnight.
Tony got up, grabbed his little brother by the waistband of his jeans and yanked him through the open window. Andy banged his head on the way in and cried out in pain. But Tony didn't care. He would have let him crash all the way to the floor, but Andy has just gotten the cast off his arm the week before and as annoyed as he was with him, he didn't want to really hurt him. So, he quickly grabbed him before he hit the floor.
"Jesus Tony! What the hell are you trying to do? Kill me?" Andy fumed as he straightened himself up and yanked his arm from his brother's grasp.
"What the hell are you doing? Do you know what time it is? I thought you were grounded."
"I am. Why do think I'm sneaking in the damn window?" Andy replied rolling his eyes and waving his hand dramatically. It was at that moment that Tony realized…
"Are you drunk?"
Andy laughed.
"Uh…yeah. Maybe just a little."
"Boys? Is that you?" Their father's voice rang out from upstairs.
"Shit! Dad's up!" Tony exclaimed.
"Oh yeah. I forgot. He pulled into the driveway just as I was getting home. Another reason why I snuck in the window." Andy swayed a little on is feet as he said it and Tony grabbed him by his shoulders to steady him.
"Boys?"
"Yeah Dad! It's us." Tony replied. Then quickly turned back to his brother "Sit down."
He gave him a little shove, which under normal circumstances wouldn't have had much effect, but in Andy's current condition sent him sprawling onto the couch. Tony quickly grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and threw it over his brother's legs, then took a seat opposite him on the other end.
"Keep your mouth shut." He warned his brother. "And whatever you do, don't breathe on him."
"Yeah. Cuz I thought I give him a big kiss." Andy joked.
"Shh!" Tony said, just as their father descended the staircase.
"Boys? What are you still doing up? It's almost 2:30 in the morning."
"Oh, hey Dad." Tony greeted him casually. "Are you just getting home?"
"We had an emergency at the hospital. I got held up there. What are you still doing up?
"We were watching TV and we both fell asleep."
"Well you're not asleep now. And I thought I heard yelling." Their father replied.
"Oh yeah." Tony nodded. "That was Andy. He had a nightmare. Woke us both up."
"Oh? You OK? Their father asked, turning his attention to Andy.
"Yeah. He's fine." Tony chimed in before Andy could respond. "I got him."
"Well come on." He said, taking a step in Andy's direction. "I'll take you up to bed."
"No!" Tony cried out, then caught himself. "I mean…you don't have to do that. We can stay down here tonight. I think Andy would rather be with me than alone in his room right now. The nightmare really shook him up."
Andy nodded his head in agreement.
"Well alright." Their father conceded. "But don't stay up too late. I have the day off tomorrow and I want you boys to help me with some yard work."
"Sure. No problem Dad." Tony replied.
Their father turned to look at Andy once more and Tony thought for sure he was onto them. It seemed to Tony like he stood there forever, but it was actually only a few seconds.
"Well good night." He finally said, turned and headed toward the stairs.
"Good night." The boys replied in unison.
Tony waited until his father had made his way up the stairs before getting up and crossing the room to stand at the bottom of the stairs. He listened and made sure he heard his dad ascend the stairs to the second floor before turning his attention back to his brother.
"A nightmare?" Andy slurred. "What am I? Five?"
"You act like it sometimes." Tony replied. "You mind telling me what the hell is going on with you?"
Andy shrugged.
"What?"
"Don't what me! When did you start drinking?"
Andy rolled his eyes and threw the blanket off his legs.
"Relax Saint Anthony. It's not like you never drank in high school."
"You're not in high school yet." Tony reminded him.
"I start next month."
"You're too young to be drinking."
"Oh, shut up! You're just jealous because you were never invited to parties when you were my age."
"Yeah. That's it." Tony replied sarcastically. "And where exactly was this party?"
"I dunno." Andy replied, laying back on the couch and running his hands through his hair. "Some upper classman's house. His parents were out of town."
"And they let you in?"
"Yes, they let me in." Andy snapped at him. "They happen to like me. They think I'm a cool kid."
"Oh yeah. You're real cool."
"Actually, I am." Andy smiled smugly. "I had this tenth-grade chic all over me. Look, I think she even gave me a hickey." He said excitedly, pulling his hair back so his brother could see.
"Yep! She sure did." Tony confirmed. "You better not let Mom and Dad see that. You'll be grounded for the rest of your life."
"It would be worth it." Andy replied dreamily.
Tony sighed and took a seat across from his brother on the couch.
"Andy…I'm worried about you. This is not you."
"Yes Tony…it is. You just can't accept the fact that I'm not a little kid anymore." Andy countered.
"Is it because Mom's sick? Is that why you're drinking?" Tony asked him, ignoring Andy's comment.
"It has nothing to do with Mom."
"Andy, It's OK. I know you're scared."
"I told you…it has nothing to do with that! So just shut up already!" Andy hollered at him.
"Alright! Alright! Lower your voice. Do you want Dad back down here?" Tony warned.
Andy just gave him a dirty look.
"You better get some sleep. Sounds like we're going to have a busy day tomorrow." Tony advised him.
Andy said nothing, but started to lay down on the couch.
"Uh! Not there." Tony protested. "On the floor or in the recliner. The couch is mine."
"Why do you get the couch?" Andy asked him.
"Because I'm older. And besides, I was there first."
When Andy gave no indication that he planned on moving, Tony took him by the arm.
"I mean it. Get up." He said, pulling his brother off the couch.
Andy whined in protest, as Tony dragged him to his feet. He took a few steps on his own toward the recliner, but in his drunken state, he managed to trip over his own feet and started to fall. Tony quickly grabbed him.
"Don't touch me! I can walk by myself!" Andy barked at him, yanking himself from his brother's grasp and staggering the last few steps before falling into the recliner.
Tony walked over to a closet the along the far wall where they kept some spare blankets. He grabbed the first one he could find and then walked back to his brother and threw it his face.
"You're such a jerk!" Andy cried. "Pulling the blanket from his face."
"You're welcome!" Tony snapped at him.
Tony would liked to have slept a lot longer than he did the next morning, but was awoken around 6:00 am to the sound of his brother puking in the basement bathroom. He got off the couch and made his way to open bathroom door and found his brother kneeling on the floor in front of the toilet, groaning miserably.
Tony smiled.
"Well look at you. Praying to the porcelain god." He said cheerfully. "Still having fun?"
"Shut up." Andy groaned.
Tony entered the bathroom the leaned against the sink.
"You know…I've had the opportunity to witness so many of your first moments. I was there for your first words, your first steps, your first tooth…. But I gotta tell you, your first hangover just may be the most memorable."
"You're enjoying this. Aren't you?" Andy groaned, his head still hung over the toilet.
"I'd be lying if I said no." Tony admitted.
As if on cue, his little brother's body tensed up and he grabbed onto the sides of the toilet as another wave of nausea hit him and hurled into the toilet once more.
Tony instantly felt guilty.
"I was just kidding." He said quietly.
Andy's body relaxed, but only long enough for him to catch his breath and wipe his eyes. Once again, his body tensed and he began dry heaving, having finally expelled everything that was in his stomach.
Tony knelt beside him and began rubbing circles on his brother's back in a feeble attempt to provide some comfort.
"I'm dying." Andy moaned, still maintaining his death grip on the side of the toilet.
"You're not dying." Tony replied, pulling the hair back from his brother's face.
"I'm never drinking again."
Tony laughed.
"Yeah…You say that now."
Tony stood up and grabbed a washcloth from rack on the wall. He soaked it with cool water, rung it out and handed it to his brother who had finally released his grip on the toilet and was now seated on the floor looking completely drained.
"Here. Wipe your face."
Andy did as his brother instructed. Tony turned the tap back on and let the water run cold before taking a glass from the sink and filling it.
"You need to drink lots of water." He said, handing the glass to his brother.
Andy took a sip of the water, swished it in his mouth two or three times and then spat into the toilet. He repeated that two or three more times, before actually drinking any of the water. When he finished the half a glass that remained, Tony took the glass from him, refilled it and set it down on the sink.
"You should try to get some more sleep. We have at least two or three hours before Dad wakes up." Tony said, leaning down to take his brother's arm. "Come on. Get up."
"Why do I have to get up when dad gets up?" Andy asked, as he allowed himself to be hoisted up by his brother.
Andy had clearly forgotten the conversation with their dad the night before. And seeing as their father seemed to go out of his way to have as little interaction with his youngest son was possible, it was a fair question.
"Because we have been recruited for yard work. Did you forget?"
"Oh shit." Andy moaned, running his hands through his hair in frustration. As he did this, he pulled his long sandy hair back from his neck which revealed a dark purple bruise.
"Wow!" Tony said, reaching out and gently rubbing his finger across the bruise. "She got you good."
Andy must have forgotten about the hickey because when Tony pointed it out, he looked shocked and whipped around to inspect his neck in the mirror.
"Oh no! Do you think Mom and Dad will notice?"
All the excitement Andy had expressed the previous night about the little love bite was clearly gone. He frantically used his fingers to comb his hair down over his neck, trying to cover the mark, but he knew it was hopeless. While his hair was long enough to cover the mark somewhat, one quick turn of his head or a gust of wind and the bruise would be visible again.
"I am so dead." He added without giving Tony a chance to reply to his question.
"Well maybe not." Tony offered and started rummaging through the top drawer of the bathroom vanity.
"What are you looking for?" Andy asked him.
"Something that's hopefully going to cover that bruise if it's still in here." Tony replied, reaching to the far back of the drawer.
"Ah yes! Found it." He exclaimed, pulling his hand from the drawer.
Andy tilted his head quizzically and looked at what his brother was holding in his hand.
"Is that lipstick?"
"No, you dope! It's a makeup stick. Girls use it to cover their zits and shit."
"And why exactly do you have makeup?" Andy asked him.
Tony laughed.
"One of my ex-girlfriends gave it to me to use after she left a love bite of her own on my neck."
"How thoughtful of her." Andy commented.
"Come here and stand in the light."
Andy did as instructed as Tony removed the cap from the makeup stick.
"Hold your hair back and tilt your head a little bit."
Tony attempted rub the stick directly on his brother's bruised neck but the make-up was old and slightly dried out causing it to catch and pull on Andy's skin.
"Ow!" Andy complained.
"Sorry. This shit is so old."
He took the stick and rubbed it vigorously on the back of his own hand which seemed to help soften it up. Once he was able to get a bit of color on the bruise, he placed the stick down and used his finger to blend it in.
"You're in luck." Tony informed him. "This stuff matches you skin tone pretty good. You just gotta make sure you blend it in really good."
When he was finished, Tony stood back to admire his work.
"Not bad. You can hardly see it."
Andy turned to inspect his neck in the mirror.
"Wow! That is pretty good. You should be a cosmonaut instead of a doctor."
Tony, who had been washing the makeup off his hands, stopped and turned to his brother.
"A what?"
"A cosmonaut. You know…those people that do make-up for a living."
Tony bust out laughing. His brother was so adorably clueless sometimes.
"That's a cosmetologist you dummy!"
"Oh. What did I say?"
Tony shook his head.
"Never mind." He grabbed the washcloth again and handed it his brother. "Now wipe that shit off and get back to bed."
To Be Continued
