Blast From the Past

He decided he wouldn't mention it at all to Abbie the next time she called. Doing so wouldn't change anything, and unless he could actually do something, talk really was cheap. And after churning it over several times, he realized there was nothing he could do.

So he put on his running gear and went outside and tore it up for five miles, pushing himself to his limit, and by the time he was done, he had a mildly-pleasant endorphin rush that replaced the frustration of the last few hours.

A week passed and while both Jeff and Emily occasionally recalled their brief reunion, neither of them gave it all that much thought. She had a full-time job, two kids to raise, and daycare costs breathing down her neck. Her neighbor had agreed to watch them until the end of the month, for $50 a week, but that only bought her a little more time. He, of course, had no job and nothing to really do, and then there was the realization it was out of his hands anyway.

The following week, Emily narrowed her search for daycare down to two places, and needed time to talk with the women that ran each one of them. She was able to see one of them during her lunch break, but had to make an evening appointment with the other. Against her better judgment, she asked her dad if he could watch the girls for an hour that night.

She thought about taking them with her, but she felt like she really needed to talk to the owner/manager face to face and alone that first time. Only after deciding which one to go with would she feel comfortable bringing the girls. Besides, she hadn't had even an hour out alone in so long she couldn't remember and it was only one hour.

After her meeting the woman, Emily felt good about her and told her she'd be back with the required paperwork later that week. She was really enjoying her brief alone time and was in a very upbeat mood when she got back to her apartment.

Until she found her father passed out drunk on the couch with a glass of bourbon sitting on the coffee table and an empty bottle next to it. Ava was asleep on the floor and Charlotte was watching something on television.

"Mommy, what are they doing?" she asked, pointing to the screen.

Emily glanced at the screen and nearly fainted. There was an adult movie running and the 'stars' were doing what people paid to watch porn actors them do. She grabbed the remote, turned it off, then said, "Um...they're exercising, sweetie."

"Oh, okay," her five-year old said. "Grandpa snores really loud."

Emily looked at the train wreck she called 'dad' and shook her head.

"Grandpa's medicine makes him very tired," she said before telling Charlotte to get ready for bed.

It was after midnight before she finally laid down, and even then, all she could hear was the chainsaw sounds coming from her father. She pulled the pillow around her head trying to drown out the noise, but it was no use.

At some point sheer exhaustion won out and mercifully, Emily fell asleep.

The only good news was her dad was up and gone by the time she woke up the next morning, but there was no time to celebrate as she had to get breakfast ready for the girls, shower, eat something herself, then get to work.

It was a little after 10am when the phone rang—again.

"Meadowland Apartments, this is Emily. How may I help you?"

"Emily? Hi. It's Jeff. Crisler."

Her anxiety lifted and her frustration melted away when she heard his voice.

"What a pleasant surprise!" she said in her normal, cheerful voice.

"I wanted to call to apologize for the way I behaved the other day. I regret walking out like that and I shouldn't have done it. I wanted to start with you then tell your dad. Is he in?"

"No. He's...out," she said, knowing he hadn't come in that morning yet. It wasn't unusual for him to be late or even very late, and at 10 o'clock, she wasn't overly concerned.

"Do you know when he might be back?" Jeff asked.

"I'm not really sure, Jeff. I'd offer to leave him a message, but something tells me you'll want to tell him yourself."

"I do."

"Listen. You don't owe me an apology, Jeff. I was the one who wanted to apologize to you. My dad...well, he has some problems, and I know he can be very hard to take."

"That's still no excuse for my behavior. Yes, he said some things I found pretty offensive, but I still shouldn't have stormed off like that."

"If that was 'storming off' you haven't seen my dad on any given day of the week," she said sweetly.

He vacillated for a moment then said what he was thinking.

"Emily? If things ever get...if you ever need a safe place...."

"That's very sweet of you, Jeff. It's not that bad around here," she said, wondering whom she was trying to convince.

"Well, if for any reason it ever does, I have a guest house. It's nothing fancy but it's clean and warm and you'd be welcome to it."

"You see. That is why I always loved you so much growing up," she said with an obvious smile.

"Your beautiful wife, too," she added, as she recalled the horrific comment her dad made at the office a few days ago.

There was a quiet pause before Jeff said, "Anyway, the offer stands, and I'll give your dad a call later on and try and make things right."

"That's just one of the many things I respect about...most people who serve in the military. They're honest to a fault and have real character. That stuff is very hard to find out here in the civilian world."

Jeff understand the emphasis on 'most' and didn't mention it.

"I miss the camaraderie most of all. I really enjoyed military law, too, but it was the young Marines that kept me going. Even the bad ones."

Emily laughed politely and said, "You're one of the good guys, Jeff Crisler. Or should I call you 'captain'?"

Now Jeff laughed and said, "I loved being a captain. But I retired as a lieutenant colonel. I'll answer to pretty much anything, though."

"Oh. Colonel. Well, excuse me—sir!" she teased playfully.

Jeff laughed, too, then said, "You are such a pleasure to talk to, Emily."

"Yeah, you, too," she said sincerely.

"I guess I'll talk to you later then."

"I'd like that," she said with that same, sweet tone of voice.

"Bye, Emily."

"Bye, Jeff. Take care."

Both of them were kind of basking in some sort of 'afterglow' after hanging up. Each of them really had enjoyed talking to the other person.

"Why can't I find someone like that my age?" Jeff said out loud to himself a couple of minutes later after reflecting on just how pleasant their short chat had been.

A moment later he answered his own question by saying, "Because you don't put yourself out there to meet anyone like that, your age or otherwise."

In addition to calling back to apologize to John, he made a promise to himself to make a real, no-kidding effort to get back in the game. As much as he hated the idea he thought one of those dating sites might be the place to get started. And updating his wardrobe couldn't hurt. He couldn't remember the last time he bought anything for himself to wear that wasn't socks or underwear, but then, he didn't go anywhere or do anything, so why would he need anything but his favorite pair of jeans and a couple of dated shirts?

Emily fielded several more calls, and each time she got off the phone, she, too, thought about the very enjoyable conversation she'd had with Jeff. He was still just as kind, caring, and polite as she remembered him from so many years ago. And although she didn't think of him 'like that' she had to admit he was a very good looking man who looked closer to her age than most guys that were her age.

"Why can't I find someone like him?" she thought to herself. "Someone who'll not only be kind and caring, but who'll treat me with respect, and love me? Only me."

She wasn't even divorced yet, so really, seriously looking wasn't all that important to her. Besides, she had so many other things on her plate, a plate that included two beautiful girls this new mystery man, were she to ever find him, would have to love, that looking wasn't really even an option. But whenever she was finally able to start doing so, finding a guy who had the kinds of character traits Jeff Crisler had would at the top of her list.

By lunchtime, Emily had a half dozen maintenance requests for her dad who still hadn't shown up. She called his number and got no answer so she walked to the far end of the complex where his two-bedroom unit was located and knocked.

She knocked several times, then got out her master key and opened the door.

"Dad? I'm coming in," Emily said as the smell of alcohol and vomit hit her.

When she stepped inside, she nearly retched but kept walking. She'd been there once before since returning, and yet she was still amazed at the mess. There were dirty clothes, dirty dishes, wrappers, and empty beer cans everywhere. She made her way to the back bedroom as she continued to call his name.

"Dad?" she said as she tapped on the bedroom door.

She carefully pushed it open and peeked in. There, passed out on the floor, laying face down in a pool of vomit, was her father. She was initially afraid he might be dead as she walked over and knelt down. She could hear him breathing and in turn, Emily breathed a sigh of relief.

"Dad? Dad. Wake up. Dad!"

He stirred, coughed, then said, "What? What's wrong?"

He was still very drunk and Emily was on the verge of losing it.

"Dad, we need to get you up and in the shower. Come on."

"I don't need a shower," he slurred. "I just need a drink. Just one drink."

"I'm gonna go make you some coffee, then we're gonna get you in the shower. I'll come back and clean this mess up later."

She gently pushed his shoulder then said again, "Dad, please. You've got to get up. We've had several people call with some really important...."

"Fuck 'em," her dad slurred, his face laying in his own mess.

Not sure what else to say or do, Emily asked if she could help him at least sit up.

"Fuck you, too," he said.

He'd said some awful things to her before, and that was by no means the worst, but for some reason it hurt more than anything else he'd ever said to her.

She blinked away tears as she tried to stand up. She looked down at the man who was her father and she felt many things. Pity, shame, anger, disgust. What she didn't feel, what she couldn't feel, was sympathy. She was fresh out of that commodity.

"If you don't want my help, fine," she said. "I'll be in the office if you decide to get up and come to work today."

She turned around to leave when she heard her dad say something else.

"What was that?" she said, unable to believe what he'd just said.

"You heard me."

"I deserved what I got? Mike's infidelity was my fault?" she said, still reeling from his comment.

"You're just like your whore of a mother. You have no idea how to make a man happy or keep one. It's no wonder he was fucking someone else."

Emily knew her father was drunk and that he was a barely-functional alcoholic. But she also knew alcohol lowered inhibitions and allowed people to say what they were really thinking. The pity she'd felt just moments before evaporated as anger replaced it completely.

Emily hated the way anger made her feel, and she'd done everything humanly possible not to hate Mike for what he'd done. Anger ruined everything. But as she stood there looking at her father, a man who'd just said something horrific about his own daughter, a man who'd said innumerable hurtful things to her and her mother over the years, she'd had enough.

"Fine. Just stay here. Have another drink. Have another bottle for all I care. Just stay the hell away from me and my girls, you understand me?"

"I'll do any goddamn thing I please," he slurred angrily as he raised his head slightly. "Your my daughter and I'm their grandfather so don't ever threaten me. You understand that?"

His words were so heavily slurred she could barely understand them, but they were just clear enough that she could.

Emily shook her head in disgust and went back to the office. Too upset to even eat, she began calling back the people who'd requested help and tried to explain that her father was too sick to work. One of the long-term residents knew what was really going on.

"Too sick my ass," the woman said. "He's probably drunk on his sorry ass again."

She hung up before Emily could respond, and yet, what would she say? No, he's not? He really is sick?

By the end of the day, the worst day by far she'd had there, she was emotionally wiped out. All she wanted to do was see her girls, get something to eat, and maybe watch a kid's movie with them. A glass of wine would be amazing, but wine was a luxury she couldn't afford, and after seeing her father like that today, alcohol had lost its appeal.

The DVD ended just before 8pm, and Emily told the girls it was bath time. She let Charlotte go first because she was old enough to play in the tub unsupervised. When she finished, she could quickly bathe Ava then call it a night and be in bed herself by nine.

Emily could hear Charlotte singing in the tub and splashing her toys around, and for the first time that day, she finally felt relaxed.

And then, as if on cue, she heard a noise so loud it caused her to freeze in place and stop breathing. Ava was so startled she began crying and just as Emily went to pick her up, the door burst open and her father came staggering in in a drunken rage.

She picked Ava up then ran for the bathroom as her father hollered, "NO ONE tells me what to do!"

She shut the door behind them, locked it, then heard Charlotte asking, "What's going on Mommy?"

Emily was shaking. Ava was screaming, and Charlotte was scared.

"Get out here you worthless bitch!" her father yelled. "I wanna see my grandkids! Right fucking NOW!"

The unmistakable sound of gunshot rang out and scared Emily to the point where she began shaking uncontrollably. Moments later, she heard him hit the door, causing her to wonder if he'd just killed himself.

That yelling, the gunshot, and the crashing sound against the door caused Charlotte to start crying, too. Emily sat Ava down, grabbed a towel and told Charlotte to stand up. She wrapped her daughter up tight, tied off the towel, then listened the best she could as her two girls cried out of fear.

She heard nothing from the other side of the door, but didn't know if her dad was still standing there waiting or if he'd maybe passed out again—or worse. She glanced at her girls and a sense of panic washed over her as she feared what might happen if she opened the door. But there was no other way out and they either had to wait him out or try and get away.

If was still there and awake, he could also easily bust the door down, so Emily's only real option was to try and get her girls to safety.

Her heart was pounding like crazy as she turned the lock and opened the door a tiny crack. Her father was splayed out on the floor with his head next to the door and the gun laying next to his right hand.

She pushed it open as far as she could then grabbed Ava, and said to Charlotte, "Go to your room and get dressed as fast as you can. Can you do that for Mommy?"

Trying to be brave, her older daughter, who was trying so hard to stop crying nodded and said, "Yes."

"Okay. Good girl. Now go."

As they filed out, Charlotte asked, "What's wrong with Grandpa, Mommy?"

"He's...he's very tired, honey," she told her, her voice shaky with fear. "Just hurry, okay?"

Emily helped Charlotte with one hand while holding Ava, who was still crying uncontrollably.

"Is Grandpa sick?" Charlotte asked as she pulled on a shirt.

"Yes. Yes, he is, honey. But we can't take care of him right now. We...we just need to leave."

"Where are we going?" Charlotte asked as she struggled with a pair of pants.

"I...I don't know, sweetie. We'll figure that out once we're out of here, okay?"

The five minutes it took to get ready seemed like an hour. Emily kept looking over her shoulder to see if her dad was up, but he was still out cold.

She told Charlotte to grab two stuffed animals before grabbing a bag herself. She threw a few things in it she knew the girls and her would need then picked up her purse and said, "Okay. Let's go for a drive."

Charlotte stopped crying and held Ava's hand in the backseat as they got ready to leave.

Emily tried to tell herself to calm down but she still was very rattled. Somehow it occurred to her to stop by the office and check the phone. The car was right outside and she could see the girls as she dashed inside.

She quickly ran through the call log and found the number she was looking for. She entered it into her cell phone then closed up the office again and got back in the car.

As she left the complex she dialed the number.

Just hearing his voice called her.

"Jeff? Hi. It's Emily. I need a really big favor."

"Anything. Just ask," he told her.

Thirty minutes later she pulled into his driveway where he was outside waiting for them.

From the moment he hung up with her, Jeff was in the guest house doing his best to get things ready. He didn't have enough sheets or blankets, but he did have a couple of sleeping bags and an extra pillow. They could figure out the rest once Emily and the girls got there.

When she shut off the engine, Jeff was right there to open Emily's door. She'd been fine until she stood up and looked at him. When she did, she lost it. She'd been too strong for too long, and the anger and the frustration and all the pent-up hurt had to come out.

"Shhh. It's okay," he told her as he held her. Her body shook, racked with sobs. Deep, heavy sobs of anguish over the betrayal, her father's alcoholism and inability to love her or the girls, the constant struggle with money, and were she to admit it, her own deep sense of loneliness and need.

"Mommy? Can we get out?" she heard Charlotte ask after a full minute had passed.

"I'll get her," Jeff said, giving Emily time to dry her tears.

"Hey there!" he said with a smile. "May I help you get out?"

"No, thank you. I can do it all by myself," she informed him. "But Ava needs help. She's a baby."

"I no baby!" Ava said.

Jeff smiled as he went around the car. This time, he smiled again and asked the same question.

"Ava can't buckle," she said, mispronouncing 'buckle'.

"That's okay. I can," he told her as he unbuckled her and got her out.

He hadn't held a baby in forever then reminded himself of what Ava had just said. She wasn't a baby. But she was the cutest little two-year old he could remember since Abbie was that age.

"Come on. Let's get you all inside and try and get everyone settled in," he told Emily.

"Jeff? I can't thank you enough. We won't stay long. I just had to get out of that place tonight."

"I totally understand. I'd have come and dragged you out had I known and you tried to stay."

"I just need a day or two to figure things out," she said.

"You can stay as long as you need. I'll run to the store in the morning and pick up enough stuff for everyone, but right now we need to get the girls ready for bed."

"I can stay up late," Charlotte let him know. "I'm five years old."

Jeff smiled again then said, "Wow. I knew you were big. I just didn't know you were that big!"

"I big, too!" Ava said, causing Emily to laugh for the first time that day.

"Yes, you are, sweetie," Emily told her as they walked into the house.

"We can just cut through here and head out back. Unless you need to use the restroom or anything."

"No, we're good," Emily told him. "This place is huge, by the way."

"Yeah, it was supposed to be my retirement project, but my eyes were bigger than my ambition."

"I'm sure you'll get around to it soon enough," Emily said, her cheerfulness returning.

Jeff led them outside to the guest house where the lights were already on. He opened the door and let Emily and Charlotte in before carrying Ava behind them.