Crazy (BoyxBoy)

Fired

Mom was in the middle of bringing the dinner she half burned to the table as Farrah and I sat at the table already when the door opened and dad stormed in the house slamming the door. He stomped into the dinning room, his face red, his eyes blood shot. I had never seen him like this and when mom saw him she frowned. 

"Why are you home so early?" She asked him. He didn't move to speak, he just took a seat on the table and pulled my mom close, hugging her. She set down the plates she had in her hands and wrapped her arms around her husband, too, holding him, running her hands through his hair. She looked at me then. 

"Cam, will you take your sister into the other room for a minute? Just so we can talk?" I nodded and stood, taking Farrah from the highchair and taking her into the living room where I could still hear them if I stood by the doorway and strained my ears. Something was about to go down. 

"What's wrong?" Mom asked, sounding concerned and frightened. "I got fired." dad muttered, slurring his words. "Jordan, what the fuck--what did you do?" She asked accusingly.

"I don't know, I got a call from corporate, they made me drive an hour and a half back and forth from the office just to tell me they were letting me go, Hanna, I didn't do anything else, I did my fucking job." His words ran together. 

"You're drunk. What did you do? Why did you do this?" 

"I just had a few beers. I wanted to take the edge off." 

"A few beers? Jordan, you're pissed. You don't know what a few beers is, you're an alcoholic, you fucking know better. Don't touch me!" She was trying to keep her voice down, but whether she wanted it to or not, it carried through out the house. I hadn't known dad had a drinking problem. He'd never had a drink, not that I could even remember. We didn't even keep alcohol in the house. Maybe that was why. 

"I fucked up. I'm sorry, but it was a one time thing, I swear. I'm better, this is the first time I've had a slip up in over a decade, baby girl. The only time. Trust me,"

"Trust you? Really? Jordan, what the fuck is happening to you? Is this a midlife crisis, is this when you start making me hate you? Because we don't have to do this, I can take the kids to dads until you figure it the fuck out, because you're supposed to be providing for us, not screwing us over."

"I made a mistake, Hanna!" 

"It's a pretty big and selfish mistake to make, though, Jordan. We had one rule. One. Don't. Drink. You broke it. Give me one good reason not to leave you. Nothing's been the same lately, you've been working late, coming home in the middle of the night, you don't spend time with the kids, I told you I was unhappy and you just acted like everything was normal and nothing was wrong, and now this?" 

"Don't leave me, Hanna, please." he begged her. 

"I'm not...I would never leave you, Jordan, I love you. Fucked up and all, I just...I'm tired, I guess. I'm drained from picking up your slack, I haven't left the house in two weeks. I mean, you must've seen this coming, Jordan." 

"No. I did not fucking see this coming, otherwise I would have prepared for it. I was going on business trip after business trip meeting with buyers and drawing up blueprints, spending 72 hours awake each time, missing my fucking family, jetlagged and exhausted. I put everything into this job, I was lined up for a promotion, corporate just told me they had to downsize and they were starting with me." 

"So at what point did you end up at the bar?" She asked cruelly. "A half hour later." 

"That's it? You didn't call me, you didn't tell anyone, you just went to the bar and got drunk and drove home like that couldn't get you killed? What if something had happened? What if you crashed and didn't make it home to me? What if you got so drunk you got in a fight and ended up in jail? I mean, fuck, what if someone robbed you and left you for dead? Why doesn't anyone tell me where they are anymore."