Chapter 13 - Hitting Rock Bottom
It was a cold December night. Snow littered the ground as Gavin treaded up the steps into the apartment. His boots were dark brown with moisture as he moved to the second floor. With his thick brown coat on and his thermos in his left hand, he stuck his key in the door. When it opened the sounds of Faith's soft crying filled his ears. He quickly removed all his winter gear and headed into the nursery. Faith was in her crib, but Ray was not in sight. He warmed his hands by rubbing them together and breathing on them, before he picked her up. The rest of him was warm from his heavy coat. With her cradled in his arms, he placed a binky in her mouth and she looked at him with her lively eyes, glistening with moisture. "It's okay," he told her softly, kissing the top of her forehead beneath her pink beanie.
He then knocked lightly on the closed bathroom door. "Ray?" he called her name. Without an answer he pushed open the door to find her in the bathtub. Her head was slumped against wall. He came to stand before her. "Come get some rest," his voice was soft and comforting. She peered at him from the corner of her eyes. When he saw that she made no effort to get up, he went back to the nursery. "Please be good. Just give me five minutes," he told Faith, placing her back in her crib.
She continued to suck on her binky compliantly with her glistening eyes, as if she understood him. He hated leaving her when her eyes were wet. Back in the bathroom, he offered his hand to Ray. She took it in her left. The ring on her finger shimmered as she stood. He then helped her step out and wrapped her in a towel and his arms. "Don't worry about the water, don't worry about getting dressed. Just come get some sleep," he coaxed her into the room. He removed the towel from her and wrapped her in the blanket instead. She laid down and curled into a ball. "I love you," he told her, kissing her on the forehead.
He then rolled Faith's basinet out into the living room from the nursery. It was across from their room. He retrieved her from her crib and brought her into the living room next to his pallet on the couch. He noticed that she was sucking on her binky much harder than when he first gave it to her. In the freezer he found bags of milk that Ray had pumped. He took one out and brought a pan of water to the stove to heat it up.
When at last he felt it was the right temperature, he placed the bag in to thaw it. While he did this in silence, he heard her begin to fuss. Gavin returned to the living room and looked at her in her basinet. Her lip had curled into a pout and he found his own lip doing the same. "Hey," he said quietly. "I'm working on it," he then grabbed the binky that had fallen out of her mouth and put it back in. She sucked on it for a few more seconds and spit it back out. He moved back into the kitchen.
When he returned, he had a burp rag over his shoulder and the bottle in his hand. He sat on the couch and drew her into his arms. Once the nipple was in her mouth she began to suckle, looking up at him with her big glistening eyes. She had lots of dark hair beneath her beanie and even if she wasn't wearing pink, her cry was so girly anyone could've guessed she was his daughter. He watched the measurement on the side of the bottle while she ate. Simultaneously he kept an eye on her legs, feet, and toes.
Unknowingly, his mouth had curled into a smile. When he felt she had enough for the moment, he drew the bottle away and stood. He paced around the room and began to burp her. After a small burp he said, "Someday you'll be as good as me."
He then took her to her nursery to change her. When at last they returned to the living room, he laid on his side and put her between him and the back of the couch. He wiggled his fingers slowly above her and she watched as if in a trance. Once her attention was lost, he knew she was sleepy again. He saw that her eyes were teetering open and shut.
Although Ray's bath water was cold, he used it to prevent any extra noise that would wake Faith. He washed quickly and no sooner than he got out did his own stomach growl. He still hadn't made dinner for himself. To make the least amount of noise possible, he ate a giant bowl of cereal. He poured it in quietly, followed by half a gallon of milk. While he ate, he finished some paper work as requested by his father. Preceding such tasks, he went to check on both Faith and Ray before he laid down for the night. Faith was fast asleep in her basinet, but Ray was still awake. Her eyes were open when he walked in. Her gaze followed him as he moved to the edge of the bed. "What are you still doing awake?" he asked.
She was laying on her stomach with her head facing the door. In her silence, he kissed her cheek and began to rub her back. After her eyes closed and her light breaths filled the air, Gavin retreated back into the living room to his pallet on the couch. It was two in the morning and he had to be up in four hours for work. Such was life.
That same winter, just two months later deep into February, the weather relentlessly remained bitterly cold. With the truck quiet, Gavin looked at Faith in her car seat. She was sound asleep amid a winter so gripping. Frost coated Gavin's side mirrors. He made sure she was bundled up before removing her to carry her in. The air bit at his nose as he strode across the parking lot to his apartment. He carried her, the diaper bag, and his own duffle bag up the stairs. His core was hot from exertion, but his fingers and toes still felt frozen. He could feel the sweat on his back as his shirt felt plastered to his skin.
When he reached the door, he stuck his key in and turned the knob. The living room was slightly chilled. Light from a nearby open window blind illuminated the space as he set his things down. He slid off his boots and then turned up the thermostat.
"Ray?" he called out to her softly. He unbuttoned the front of heavy coat and drew his hands to his lips, rubbing them together for warmth. He found himself in the bathroom looking in at the darkness. When he flipped the switch, he saw the medicine cabinet had been left open. It contents had been dumped and scattered across the floor. Just an inch from his foot was a prescription bottle of antidepressant medication.
He quickly turned and placed his hand against the doorknob to their bedroom. "Ray!" he shouted, finding that it was locked. "Ray! Open the damn door!" His voice sounded frantic. At his loud outburst he could hear Faith begin to cry in the background. With one shove of his broad shoulder, he slammed his weight against the door. It swung open and he scrambled to the end of the bed.
He fell to his knees and grabbed her forearms attempting to disarm her. The more pressure he exerted, the harder it became for her to keep a hold of the handle. "Drop it!" he yelled, squeezing tighter. He saw his reflection on the blade, shaking as they fought for control. She began to kick her feet wildly in protest, straining against him. Realizing that she wasn't going to release the item from her grasp, he twisted her around until her back pressed against his chest. He forced her arms into a crossed position against her torso and held them there, the blade facing away from her.
In a moment of stillness, he listened to her weep, staining his memories and his clothes, soaking through his thoughts. It was a hushed, yet high pitched cry comparable to the sound a tea kettle made just before it was removed from an open flame. He felt her simmer down in his grasp as the energy and will to defy him began to drain away. Once he was sure he could keep her locked in position with a single hand, he reached in his back pocket for his cell phone. His bicep flexed preventing her from further destruction, but the damage was already far too great. With the phone in his hand, he began to dial nine-one-one. His fingers slipped across the buttons smearing blood with his thumb over the dial pad.
Valerie had her short brown hair barrel curled to her shoulders. She wore a thigh high tan dress with white gladiators. In her arms was her four-year-old son, Garin. His long brown wavy hair fell past his shoulders. Beside her stood her daughter Alex, who had a strong hold on the hem of her dress. Grant held his beloved niece's hand. Faith looked up to them with envy as they smiled and laughed, talking about how wonderful the preacher's sermon was this morning.
Once they were out in the parking lot, they met Graham, Rose, their children, Leah, and Mike. All were dressed formally. "We couldn't find you, where were you guys sitting?" Grant asked.
"We showed up late, we were sitting in the back, sorry." Mike apologized. "You know how your mother is getting ready in the morning."
"Sure," Grant said, holding his tie in place as a breeze picked up. "So, are we going to stop by Gavin's on our way to brunch and see if he's coming? I think his cell phone is on silent."
Mike shrugged, "Sounds like a plan. Leah and I are going to go ahead and take the kids to the restaurant and just meet you there. By the time we get seated and get the kids settled, everyone will be there."
"Aw, you don't have to do that," Valerie smiled.
"No, we insist!" Leah said, taking Garin from her hands. The little boy fussed for a moment and then stuck his thumb in his mouth.
"Are you sure you can handle five kids?" Graham asked his parents.
"Oh please, we dealt with three for well over eighteen years." Leah joked.
"She's got a point…" Graham said.
Grant exchanged looks with his brother as if they were proud of their rambunctious youth. "Alright, well, we'll meet you there." Grant told them. The families then loaded up in the two vehicles. The suburban seated the five children in the back and two adults in the front, while Grant, Graham, Valerie, and Rose got into the Black Chevy Tahoe. On the way to Gavin's the two men argued about Chevy versus Ford.
"I'm just saying," Graham argued from the passenger seat. The two women were looking at each other shaking their heads. They had heard this argument well over five times.
"Chevy may not have been around for as long, but the only thing Ford has going for it are the Mustangs. Their trucks just aren't very good in my opinion. They always seem to have engine problems."
"All vehicles need service eventually. I just think that because you are biased maybe while you owned your Ford, you only remembered the issues you had and forgot the times between when it was running fine." Graham said. "I've only had one issue with my Equinox."
"Sure," Grant busted into laughter.
When they pulled up to the house, Grant put the vehicle in park and took his seat belt off. "Let's go mess with him like old times until he comes with us," Grant told his brother with a mischievous smile.
"Let's not piss him off," Graham reminded him.
"We just got out of church!" Rose said to her husband.
"Oh hush, woman. We'll be right back." The two men then abandoned their seats. Once they were in the house, they searched the downstairs before the upstairs. They came to stand before Gavin's bedroom door which was locked.
The two men whispered jokingly to one another, "Next door neighbor time maybe?"
"I'm going to knock," Grant said.
"No! Between kids and work, you know how it is. Leave him alone…" Graham argued. Just as Grant went to knock anyway, they heard the sound of his cell phone on the other side. They waited in silence for him to answer, but it continued to ring until it went to voicemail.
"You think he's still sleeping?" Graham asked in the silence.
"Maybe," Grant suddenly began to bang on the door. "Police!" he shouted in a deep voice. The two brothers then waited, snickering to one another like children.
"Good God, he can sleep through anything." Graham shook his head.
"I got it," Grant put his finger in the air. He then reached in his wallet for an old ID and swiped it along the seam of the door closest to the lock. After they heard a soft click, Grant pushed the door open slowly, and stared vexingly into the empty room. "Maybe we're checking the wrong sheets?" Grant asked Graham. The joking had settled to a more serious tone as they stepped in inspecting the rather empty room. Why did he lock his door if he wasn't in?
As if time had skipped, the reaction happened so fast that Graham barely had time to make sense of it. It was as if Grant had been at his side one moment and was gone the next, having disappeared into the bathroom. "Gavin!" Grant fell to his knees, shouting. He placed his index finger and middle finger against his brother's neck, feeling for a pulse. Gavin's body was cold upon the floor of the bathroom. "Gavin!" he shouted again. He proceeded to plug his bloody nose and press his lips against his brother's to begin CPR. The horrifying image was burned into Graham's mind.
"Call 911 idiot!" Grant shouted gravely in a voice that resembled their father's the day Grant had nearly beat Gavin to death.
Faith sat at table with the other children around her. While they colored and played with one another, her eyes remained intent on Leah's face. The woman waited for her husband to return to his seat. It seemed a good long while until he did. Mike's pepper hair fell above his thick grey brows and he brushed them back. Leah continued to stare at him. "Really guys, did you eat all the pancakes before I could make it back?" he asked, focusing completely on them, and nothing else.
"Yeah!" Garin said excitedly, believing that he could actually trick Mike into thinking they could all eat so much pancakes in such little amount of time. The other children seemed just as eager to trick him, all except for Faith who remained speechless and vigilant.
He drew his brows together, "How rude!" he accused them. "Did you get to eat any pancakes yet, Faith, or did they beat you up and take your food?"
Discretely he whispered to Leah, "Woman, stop staring at me this instant." He then forced a smile and it wasn't soon after that that the sirens of an ambulance filled the air over the hustle and bustle of the restaurant. It zipped past the building followed by a black Tahoe. Leah burst into hysterics before Mike even had time to react. He did not stop her from leaving the table however.
Mike then folded his hands beneath his chin, closed his eyes, and the children were now quiet as they watched him pray in silence. When he had finished, he took a deep breath, and took a crayon up in his grasp from beside Garin's paper place mat. He then began to draw the picture. "What is this?" he asked them. The younger children pointed and told him in was a clown.
"What's this?" he pointed to the large red ball on its face.
"A nose!" Alex replied.
Faith remained apathetic, curious as to where Leah had gone and Mike took to tickling her underarm claiming that the nose was there. Out of reflex, she smiled, and squirmed away from him. "Faith, I think you have a clown nose under your arm. Could you let me see it? Please? I know it's there!"
The little girl giggled and it wasn't too long after that that the waitress returned with a plateful of blueberry pancakes on the table. They were smothered in syrup.
The following morning, Mike stood in the lobby of the hospital. His eyes were dark with exhaustion for he had stayed overnight beside his son's hospital bed. "Can I see him? Is Faith okay?" Bailey wept hoarsely as she came through the front doors. Before answering her questions, he drew her into a much-needed hug to calm her down. "Mike, this is my fault…" Bailey drew herself away from him. He saw the tortured expression on her wrinkled face.
"No Bailey, it's not your fault, not at all,"
"I knew, and I have known for a long time, but I did nothing about it. I could've done something," she sobbed.
"We should find some place private to talk," he suggested looking around the lobby. Several eyes were upon them.
In Gavin's room, she came to stand beside his hospital bed. He was nearly unrecognizable with his face so pale. "I'm so sorry…" she wept. "I'm so sorry."
"Stop blaming yourself, Bailey" Mike repeated. He pulled up a seat next to hers and coaxed her to calm down. While he sat with his back straight, she was hunched forward wiping the tears from her cheeks.
"This is not your fault. You had nothing to do with this, believe me. He had several chances to change his ways long before he even met you. And if you think you're guilty for not taking enough initiative to put this man back on his own two feet, then I'm guilty too." Mike gave her peace of mind, letting her know that she wasn't alone.
Leah sat with a book in her hand. Her reading glasses hung on her nose near the tip. Mike laid in bed beside her with a pillow covering his head. "Woman, I have to be up tomorrow at five. Could you please shut the light out?" he asked grumpily.
"I'm reading about family therapy for the sake of our son," she responded matter-of-factly.
"Leah, he's already receiving counseling. I'm warning you. He just needs time and space on the road to figure things out. Put the book away. Go to sleep. We can talk more about it tomorrow."
"Really Michael? Could you stop thinking about your damn company for five minutes! Keep Gavin out of that truck! He shouldn't be out there alone!" she raised her voice at him.
Mike threw the pillow off his face and removed himself from the bed. Out in the living room, he curled up on the couch with a throw pillow, but no blanket. Soon after, he heard Leah walk past and head out the back door. He sprung from the couch and shot across the lawn to the shop. He found Leah in Gavin's semi with the driver's side door open. He climbed the steps and looked in on her. She was searching his semi.
"What are you doing?" his voice boomed at her. "Look at this!" Leah shouted at him, throwing the pill bottles in his direction. He caught some out self-defense and deflected others. He didn't bother to read the labels, nor did he want to. He refused to invade his son's privacy as Leah had, especially the confines of another man's semi. Mike then grabbed her by her arm and began to pull her towards the front of the cab.
"Tell me!" she shouted.
He stepped down with her squirming in his grasp. He removed her from the driver's side of Gavin's semi nearly dropping her in the process. She clung to him to keep from falling.
"Tell me, what's happening to our baby boy?" she wept.
He held her close and responded, "Life, and he's a grown man. Just let him get through the bereavement process. He'll come out of it."
"You're wrong!" she yelled. "I know my Gavin. He's meaner than a rattlesnake, but when it comes right down to it he's the most sensitive guy I know."
Mike sighed heavily with exhaustion. "For Christ's sake, could you have more faith in him, woman?"
Bailey listened quietly as Mike finished his recollection. "I thought whatever Gavin was going through would pass or that he would get through it," Mike said in a low tone, "And I'm sure he would've had he not been alone. Unfortunately, he left the next morning. I guess he had heard Leah and I arguing that night. He told me he felt as if he was causing us too much trouble and that he would be gone by the end of the week. I didn't want to push too hard, so I let him go. Leah and I damn near got a divorce over it, but we had to be strong…"
With her hand beneath his, Bailey looked at the IV which had been inserted on the top of his. His skin appeared so rough she wondered how the needle hadn't broken when the nurses tried to put it in. Nurses periodically checked on him, each asking if she wanted to watch TV, but it would only serve as annoying background noise.
With her back arched, she rested her head against the edge of his bed. While her hand was warm, his was cool. With her head down and her eyes distant in thought, Gavin peered at her. He heard the heart monitor in the background, felt the crispness of the hospital covers, and the uncomfortable stiffness of the IV in his hand. His eyes then moved to the clock on the wall which read fifteen minutes after one. Beside the clock was a white board which the day had been written upon. It was two days after his daughter's birthday. He squeezed Bailey's hand gently and she looked up.
When Gavin's family arrived, Grant, Graham, Mike, and Leah all joined around his hospital bed with Bailey and Faith. The little girl stood beside his bed and held her arms up to give him a hug. He hoisted her onto the bed with help from Bailey. Once Faith was positioned comfortably at his side against his chest, he glared disapprovingly at his brother Grant. "How are you doing baby girl?" he asked her, now giving all his attention to her. He brushed her long black hair out of her face.
"Ok." Her response was curt. "I missed you."
He kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry for worrying you." "No more," she told him quietly. "Please."
"Alright, Faith, no more." "Promise?"
Gavin took a deep breath and pressed her head against his chest. "I promise, with everyone in this room as my witness. But Faith, you have to be strong, because I'm going to be away for a while. When I come back, it's going to be you and me, making up for lost time baby girl. Okay?" Faith wiped away the tears in her eyes.
"How long?"
"A month or so," he shrugged feeling the moisture upon his chest through the hospital gown. The little girl nodded her head.
Grant had to be the strong one to break them up. "Faith, we should probably get going. The doctor is going to come and check on Gavin soon."
Faith sat up and hopped down from the hospital bed carefully. "I love you," Gavin told her.
"I love you too daddy," she replied, taking Gavin's hand up in her own.
"Get better bro," Grant waved and left with Faith.
With Faith gone, Mike moved into a more adult conversation. "Son, Leah and I are going to fund your rehabilitation and make sure you get the help you need. Grant and Graham are going to maintain your duplex while you're away and keep Faith. They've agreed to let Bailey continue to see her on the weekends. We all care so much about you. The only thing you need to focus on is getting better, not for any of us, but for your own sake, son."
Gavin had brought his hand to his face with the IV side exposed, "I'm so sorry," he told them all. Graham had his hand on his mother's shoulder. He looked over at Bailey. She was staring at Gavin with glassy eyes.
After his release from the hospital, Bailey drove Gavin back to his duplex where she helped him pack his suit cases. Together they cleared his room of pill bottles and the refrigerator of alcohol and goods. They even cleaned out his truck. They then found themselves in front of the breaker box. Gavin's truck sat in the garage. She had left the door open, to provide some light for when the power was off.
"I'm ready," he told her. He began to flip the breakers one by one as if shutting off the negative thoughts in his life. While he did so, she saw the back of his platinum blonde haired head. When he had finished, the house was quiet and the garage was pitch black. The only light that illuminated the garage space was that of the open door. She offered him her hand. He took it and followed her back into the living room. The house was still and calm as if everything had stopped. He was rest assured though that life would continue, but not the same.