When You Least Expect It

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UPDATED: 7/18/2019. Rewritten.

They say a person experiences stages of grief. The first, denial, which was a very short stage for me. Probably lasted a second, because there's no way to deny the scene I walked into that night. It's unfortunately ingrained in my brain. 

The second stage, anger, is currently taken precedence in my life. The last couple weeks have blurred into a repeating cycle.

Wake. Drink. Fuck. Repeat.

I wake everyday with a hangover and chase it away with more alcohol. It numbs me. I welcome it. It's freeing to not feel anything. I know I'm beginning to scare my family, especially V, she has a front row seat to my self destruction.

I roll onto my back, thankful to find the futon empty beside me. The blinds are closed and yet the sliver of light hurts my eyes. I throw my arm over my face just as a knock sounds on the door. I don't make a sound in hopes they'll leave me alone. I hear door crack open, so much for that thought.

The smell of bacon fills the room and I peek under my arm to see V poke her head pass the door, "Oh good, you're awake." I grunt in response and drop my arm back onto my face. I feel the bed dip to my left.

"What time is it?" my voice comes out gravelly, and I have cotton mouth.

"Seven thirty."

"Fuck V, why are you waking me up at seven thirty on a weekend?"

"It's Monday." she responds quietly.

It's Monday? What the hell..

"Victor, I love you, but this has gone on long enough." I open my mouth to respond when she continues to speak, "No, listen. What happened to you was shitty, really shitty and we've let you be. You need time to process and grieve the end of your marriage, which I don't think you've done properly, you're just running away from your feelings. Drowning in booze and vaginas. You need to get your life together."

She's right. I hate that my little sister is lecturing me on life. "Alright mom." 

She laughs, " You so owe me. I've been covering for your stupid ass. If mom knew about your heavy drinking and constant revolving door of hoes, she'd beat you!"

I clear my throat, "As you can see, I didn't bring one home last night."

"She left early this morning." V deadpans.

"Damn." I whisper.

"Get up, shower cause you smell like a bar. Come eat, Chase has a proposition for you." She pats my arm and leaves the room.

I move at a snails path, but think over her words and allow them to take root. My life is a mess and I've allowed myself to fall into this sad depressed state. I talk myself into getting my life in order, taking control, and begin to truly move forward.

I enter the kitchen where Vance, Chase and V are all sitting at the table. Portions of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and sausage are set out upon the table in dishes. I make myself a dish, and break the silence. "So I hear you have a proposition for me?"

"Yeah, my dad's looking for a new accountant." Chase responds.

"I'll take it." I immediately reply.

"It's already yours."

"How's that?" I ask.

"I told my dad you were looking for a new job, and he didn't hesitate to scoop you up, especially knowing you work, or worked, for Greg. He was almost giddy, his long time accountant is retiring earlier than expected."

"Thanks man." I say and the relief must be apparent in my voice, V looks at me across the table and smiles.

"Sure thing. They require a piss test, and they want you to come in to fill out some paperwork, along with a background check." Chase informs me.

"So that gives you time to take care of what you need to do." V implies. I nod knowingly, because I do have a lot to do.

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