Hard to Hold On

chapter Four



Nolan



As the sun peeks through my curtains, I groan heavily. My head throbs with each sudden movement and I collapse against my bed again, feeling the urge to just fall back to sleep. To just give up.

Last night was awful.

After I’d told Mills the bad news, he left without a word. He didn’t say anything and it freaked me out until he arrived home again, but with two bottles of Jack Daniels. I figured, why the hell not? I wanted to forget just as much as he did. I didn’t want to think about anything at all but I’m sure the drinking made it worse.

My eyes are tight which means I had ended up crying sometime between. I hate crying but I know the tears were released. It was hard to control after having so much liquor in my system. Twisting my head, I glare at my phone that’s sitting on the night stand. I got a text from Natalie last night. She told me everything was going to be okay but it’s bullshit. She said she loved me as well but that caused even more pain to my troubled emotions.

I love Natalie to death but I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do when she arrives. I’ll need her help in getting things together. I’m going to be more than glad to hold her in my arms because it’s been four months. I’ve wanted to make love to her for what seems like decades but with my mother passing, it won’t feel right . . . especially while I’m still living in her home.

I continue my stare at my phone, figuring it’s too late to text back. I could start the day off with a “Good morning” text but right now I want time to myself. I don’t want to do shit but sleep but I have to work. Knowing I can’t miss out on the money, I hike myself up against my headboard with a heavy groan. As I press the soles of my feet on the floor, I hear scrambling in the kitchen. After being so accustomed to her early morning ramblings in the kitchen, the first thought is it’s my mother but the thought fades in almost an instant.

I shuffle through my drawer for a pair of shorts, slide them on, and then head for the kitchen. When I round the corner, I see Mills slouching over the sink. His head seems practically hidden beneath his large shoulders but once I catch a glimpse of something sharp and silver in his hand I rush for him.

“Mills, what the hell are you doing?” He doesn’t answer. He continues squeezing the knife between his palm and fingers and I watch as his blood drips into the sink. “Mills . . . stop. It’s alright.”

Grunting, he drops the knife into the sink to look at me. He glares into my eyes, his nostrils flaring. He’s not taking the bad news lightly. I can see it all over his face; the purple bruises beneath his eyes and his dry lips. “It’s not alright, Nolan,” he snarls through his teeth,

“Yes it is. Shit happens for a reason, right? It’s what you always said to me about Dad? Shit happens.”

“This isn’t shit!” He shoves me against my chest and I stumble backwards a few steps. I gaze down at the blood from his hand that’s on my chest before looking up at him again. Panting heavily, he turns around and knocks everything off of the counter. Glass shatters and plugs become undone and I want to stop him just to slap the shit out of him. I want to tell him to quit being stupid and to cool down but I know I shouldn’t. I don’t stop him because I’ve wanted to do the same exact thing. I just want to flip shit over. “She’s f*cking dead, Nolan. What’s the point in living without her? She’s all we had, man. We came back for her because she was supposed to survive. She was doing so good . . . she was literally smiling at us before going in. Now she’s dead? I just—it doesn’t feel real. It can’t be real . . . she can’t be gone.”

His glistening eyes turn on me and I feel the dryness scratching at my throat. The rims of my eyes burn but I force myself to keep strong. Mills finally slumps down in a chair at the table, suddenly weak at the knees. His bloodshot, teary eyes drift from mine to the glass table and he stares at it while I sigh, sitting across from him.

“We have to work today, Mills.”

“F*ck work.”

“We need the money,” I snap.

“F*ck the money, Nolan. F*ck everything.” He shoves away from the table and storms out of the kitchen. Keys jingle and then the front door slams shut behind him, letting me know he’s run off.

I flinch from the heavy sound, bringing my hands up and running them through my hair. I never would have thought shit would turn this bad. Never. I tried so hard as a kid to let my father go in peace and after a while I did but now that my mother’s dead it just seems so unreal. It seems as if I’m living in a nightmare that I need to be shaken out of. The misery just isn’t supposed to be happening again.

I don’t understand what I did to deserve this. I couldn’t have been that bad—in fact I know I wasn’t bad. I was good. I did everything I was supposed to do. My childhood was fatherless for the most part but I didn’t turn into one of the bad-ass kids in school. I was still Nolan . . . just a lost one. A hurt one.

Groaning, I push back in my chair to get to my room. Mills may not want to work but I have to. Someone has to make money and without Mom here, this shit is only going to get tougher. We have to pay the bills now. Getting rid of her house is something she never would have wanted but we can’t continue to stay in it. After a few months we’ll have to sell it. We’ll have to get rid of it and everything we’ve wanted to hold onto.

****

“Nolan, you feeling alright?” Tike asks me before I step out the door. Tike is one of the tour managers and there’s one thing about him I can’t stand. He worries about others too much. He’s a great manager and a great boss but when it comes to the personal life he can get a little too personal sometimes.

“I’m good, Tike. Just having a rough day. Nothing I can’t handle.” I rub the back of my neck as he stands just to sit on the edge of his desk. He smacks and chomps on his gum as he looks me up and down from behind his thick-rimmed glasses.

“You don’t look so good. Where’s Mills? It’s never like him to miss a day of work.”

“He wasn’t feeling well,” I lie.

“Well you look worn. Go home and get some rest. Sorry about making you pick up Leon’s shift as well but the check will be worth it, huh?” Somehow I don’t find his joke funny.

“Yeah.”

Tike studies me once more before finally sighing and standing from his desk. “Well, have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I spot the concern behind his eyes but I refuse to leave him any time to try and ask me if I want to talk about it. I’ve been trying to ignore it but it’s killing me inside. I feel like my lungs have been punctured and I’m forcing myself to breathe. I thought I had found everything I was looking for but then it flips on me and I’m at square one again.

As I hop into the car I rest my head against the steering wheel, pulling my cell out from my back pocket. There are over a dozen text messages from Natalie and all of them say either “I miss you,” or “I hope everything is alright,” or even, “I love you”.

I love her, too, but I feel hopeless. I feel so worthless. This depression has happened once before and I couldn’t f*cking stand it. I don’t like the pain that’s been dragged upon me. I don’t like how it feels to be broken again.

My parents were my world but without them, it’s shattered. Without them it’s pointless. The only good thing I have left in my life is Natalie and I know she’ll make me smile again . . . at least, I hope she can.

Smiling hasn’t happened to me today. Not once. Not even towards the tourists who seemed a bit nervous around me and refused to ask me any questions. I admit I was being a total dick while escorting them around the exhibit but I just couldn’t come to grips with being happy.

****

As soon as I arrive home I see Mills laid out on the sofa with a bottle of vodka in his right hand. I lock the door behind me before going for him and taking it away. “Mills, get up and go to bed.”

He perks up slowly, his eyes still bloodshot. Snatching his bottle of vodka back, he staggers to his feet. He almost face-plants but I catch him before he can hit the floor. Chuckling, he slams the bottle of vodka down on the coffee table then stands up as straight as he can.

“Don’t be a fag,” he says, blowing his intoxicated breath into my face. “Mom isn’t here. We can drink as much as we want to now, right?”

My chest tightens from him calling me a “fag” and from him making fun of Mom’s house rules. “Alright. Time for bed.” I tuck my shoulders beneath his heavy arm and drag him towards his bedroom. I practically toss him onto his bed and he lets out another hysterical chuckle before falling onto his side and burying his face into one of his pillows.

I wait, hoping he won’t get up, but after only a minute he begins to snore. I shut his door behind me, turning for my room exhaustedly. I kick my shoes off, peel my khaki’s away, and toss my shirt into the hamper beside my closet before settling into my bed.

It ticks me off how Mills is acting like the younger brother instead of the older brother but I can’t act like I didn’t see this coming. When our father died, he broke every rule in the book. He got suspended way too many times from school for fighting kids who talked about our family and he had even smoked marijuana for a short period of time before he finally realized there was something better out there for him. He stopped completely when we’d moved to Miami and his girlfriend Lorie came into his life. When our mother found her boyfriend, Mills realized it was time for him to man up.

I still hate how she chose her worthless boyfriend over us. She should have kept her boys close to her because we would have taken better care of her than he did. He knew she was sick but he hardly did anything about it. What hurts me most is I didn’t get to hug her one last time. I thought she would come out alive and maybe I could hug her a million times. I seriously thought she was going to make it. My hopes were so high and I guess it’s why I feel so terrible. My hopes were crushed and shattered completely.

I turn on my side and stare at the white wall. Tears threaten to spill and I try to bite them back but it’s merely impossible. It’s only been a day but I miss her like hell. I miss everything about my mom and even though she did us wrong, I forgave her. She was someone to hold onto and someone who made us realize that life goes on. She was devastated when Dad died which is why I think she chose her boyfriend Derrick over us. She didn’t want to let the love for another man go but at the end of it all, he was the one who’d let her go. He was the one who f*cked her over.

When our dad died she told me every day it was in God’s plan . . . but what was his plan for taking both of my parents away from me? What did he want from me? I couldn’t figure out why my life had to be so miserable. I’ve done some minor things in the past—things most people would look over—but I never thought it would amount to this. Pain. Grief. Heartache. I can’t believe I’m experiencing another death of someone so close to my heart—my mother, of all people.

I feel like a p-ssy for weeping but I can’t stop. I can’t seem to get over the reality of it. Both of my parents are gone and they’re never coming back.