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“Yeah, sure,” I replied. I didn’t want to worry him, but I was feeling run down and the bout of vomiting did nothing to curb my nausea. Joe and I both got ready in our rooms. When I looked in the mirror, I realized how pale I looked. I wasn’t hungry but I didn’t want to worry him more. My phone began to ring and I was hoping it would be Luc, but Bryce’s name lit up the screen.

“Hello,” I whispered.

“Hi, Vicky, I just wanted to make sure you got home safely and that everything was okay.”

“Yes, Bryce thank you so much for letting me use your jet, you were right I made it back quickly. Now I won’t miss anything, the wake begins tomorrow and the funeral is on Saturday,” I explained sadly. Saying the words hit home and made everything seem more real.

“I’m sorry I am not there with you, Vicky, I wish I could be,” he sighed.

“It’s okay, Bryce, I appreciate your kindness.” I smiled and I really meant those words.

“Ah, Vicky? Have you heard from Luc? I know you guys work closely together….”

“No, I haven’t,” I lied. It made me feel bad that I was lying to him. Bryce knew about Luc’s past, but it didn’t feel right to tell him now that I had found Luc in a drunken mess.

“Alright then, you take care.”

“Thanks, bye.”

“Bye, Vicky,” he replied and the conversation ended.

I couldn’t help but worry about Luc. Something was very wrong to push him over the edge. I raked my brain considering what could have pushed him over the edge that way, when a light went off in my head. He told me that he began to fall apart in the past when his family put him under pressure, and that’s when he started to drink. Was it the case now? His family must have contacted him. I wondered what they wanted, and why he couldn’t be open with me, instead of pushing me away. Maybe my suspicions were only that, maybe he didn’t care about me and I was trying to make excuses for him. I wasn’t sure. I felt tired, nauseous, and overwhelmed.

I met Joe at the front door. “What are you in the mood for?” he asked.

“Um, I don’t know,” I replied as we made our way to the old Tracker sitting in the driveway. I hoped it had gas in it. “Fast food works for me, how about McDonald’s?” I suggested.

As Joe backed out of the driveway, he stopped the car and scrunched his nose. “You are going to eat McDonald’s?” he asked with surprise.

“Yeah, I feel like a Big Mac,” I replied, surprising myself. Maybe this was me needing to do some emotional eating. It was either a Big Mac or drowning myself in toffee ice cream.

“McDick’s it is,” Joe replied with a grin and shaking his head.

***

The drive to McDonald’s was quiet and we both sat quietly eating our meal. I devoured the Big Mac in less than five minutes as Joe stared at me wide eyed. I had never been a big eater and never a big meat eater, so the fact that I was indulging in a double burger was definitely odd, but I was sad and this was what I felt like doing. In the past, I would head to Ed’s a bar at the edge of town where I met Nessa. I would either drown myself in a cheap form of liquor or we would hit the party scene in Toronto. None of those options appealed to me now.

On the drive back home, I started to feel that same burning sensation making its way up my throat.

“Joe, pull over,” I demanded.

“What?” He looked at me as if I lost it.

“Joe, pull over I think I am going to be sick,” I said holding my hand over my mouth. The thought of puking in the car didn’t sit well with me.

As Joe swerved the car off to the side of the road; I threw my door open and jumped out of the car, hurling my guts out. “Shit, Vick, what the hell is wrong with you?” Joe asked with the same brotherly concern he had earlier.

“I must have a stomach bug or maybe it’s my nerves eating away at me over the wake tomorrow. I’m dreading it. Isn’t the thought of going back to that funeral home driving you crazy?” As I let out a breath I realized that my voice was shrill. I was coming undone and the thought alone terrified me.

“Shit, Vicky, calm down. Let me get you home.” Joe put his arm around my shoulder and guided me back to the car. I was falling apart. I needed Luc; I was alone again, abandoned again. I sat with my head against the headrest looking quietly out the window for the rest of the ride home while Joe periodically gazed my way with concern. I didn’t mean to show him this side of me. The side that wasn’t strong, the side that was falling apart but I had no control over my emotions and every part of me felt completely out of whack.

As we pulled into the driveway, Joe pulled the key from the ignition and with his shoulders hunched over he said, “Let’s go inside. You should get some rest for tomorrow.”

I followed him inside the house and as I was ready to climb the stairs for the second floor Joe called me back, “Vick, I really am sorry for leaving you alone all this time. I was a selfish bastard, only thinking of myself,” he said bowing his head.

“It’s okay, just tell me you will stick around from here on out, please Joe. Even if you don’t want to stay in Thunder Bay, I need you to stay in touch with me and talk to me, I need to know you are safe,” I practically begged him as if my life depended on it.

“Yeah, Vick, I promise,” he said, then he gripped me into one of his infamous bear hugs, squeezing me too tight before releasing me. I didn’t know what was going on inside his head or where he had been, but I knew he was a guy that was all heart like my papa had been before life got shot to hell. The smell of vomit whiffed up my nose, reminding me how badly I needed to shower.

“I’m going to shower,” I cringed looking at Joe apologetically. The bitter smell of vomit permeated from my mouth and probably my clothes. He gave me a kind smile.

“Go ahead.” He nodded to the stairs. As I climbed the stairs I was relieved to have my brother back. I noticed Joe went to sit outside. He wasn’t a very talkative guy, but I knew something heavy was weighing on him.

I let the steamy water roll over my achy body. It had been a long day with too many revelations. I mostly wondered why I felt sick to my stomach most of the time. I worried that I was getting myself into a deep depression.

After the shower I climbed into bed, then checked my phone hoping there was a text or call from Luc. My stomach dropped when I saw Luc missed call. He had tried to contact me. Bryce probably told him about my papa. It took everything inside me not to call him. He had been a big asshole, getting drunk and pushing me away like that, I wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily. Just as I was thinking to let him eat dirt for a while, my cell phone dinged and his name popped up on the screen.

Vicky please call me we need to talk.

I was surprised he hadn’t mentioned a 'sorry for your loss' along with his message. Thinking about him got me worked up. I didn’t want a relationship, but I was drawn to him. I couldn’t deny the attraction between us, and he was so persuasive in making me believe in him and myself. He got to me; he made me soft. He made me fall for him, dammit! Now my heart was hurting when he pushed me away. I didn’t want to be having thoughts about him at all, not when my focus should be on my poor papa and the shitty hand he was dealt in life. He clearly couldn’t handle things well, that’s for sure. It concerns me that Joe is the same, holding everything inside until one day something will have to give. The thoughts scared me and I was pulled back into the dark place I had been not too long ago.

The next day I would be standing beside Joe as family and friends entered the funeral home for the wake. The thought of standing there solemnly, while people passed us by telling us how sorry they were, made my stomach turn all over again. It made me feel like I wanted to run away and go anywhere but that funeral home tomorrow. I was sick of the apologetic looks and sick of all the bad. I wanted to throw my blanket off and head over to Ed’s, but if I got drunk I wouldn’t even have Nessa there to spew my negative thoughts to. Suddenly the idea of drinking alcohol nauseated me. I chose to go to sleep instead. I heard my phone beep again but I ignored it. Sleep was more enticing, maybe I could dream up a fairy tale or maybe I will realize that the nightmare that had become my life wasn’t real.