Self-Proclaimed

It had been several weeks since my stay in the cabin. Winter was passing and it was beginning to get warmer again. I was now walking with a cane everywhere I went. Without it I’d lose my balance within only a couple of feet. It was just something I would have to get used too. Sofia and I began packing the house; we were trying to take as little as we could; the rest we would leave behind for the next owners. We were looking for a house with a couple hundred acres of land. It took us only nine days to find a place way out in the country. The home was on a ranch, although all the cattle and other animals had already been transported somewhere else. The home had five bedrooms, a dining room, and a fairly decent sized kitchen. It was also a lot cheaper than any home you would find in the city. Sofia figured it would be a wonderful place to pick up her photography again and with my disability and VA loans, the house was will in our price range. We took it. The house was a fixer-upper we soon discovered. The realtor failed to show us its deviancies that the average human eye would miss. It was a work in progress for the both of us. It gave me something productive to do with my time other than sit around all day and wait for night to come. After we had settled in, Sofia started reconnecting with some of her friends from high school. Every night before we went to bed, she would have side conversations with various friends. She asked me if it would be alright to have some company stay over for some time. The visit would be more than a few days because the drive from California was more than thirty-six hours long. At the time, I was enjoying our peace and quiet among each other and not having another house within two miles of us. We were living as adults and didn’t have the potential drama that the city brings. I could only dodge her question for so long. I eventually gave in and told her it would be fine. I began clearing out a spare room for Emma and Brad Foster, a couple who had been together since high school. They both went to NYU and graduated with a degree in business. They both had high paying jobs and lived in luxury in the upper class part of Manhattan. I was curious as to see their expressions when they saw our middle class home in the middle of nowhere. However, I wasn’t worried about impressing them much either. This visit seemed out of the ordinary for Sofia, but she insisted she wanted to get back in touch with her old friends. She made a few last minute stops at the store to buy some wine and whiskey. These days I wasn’t drinking much, maybe once every month but no more than that. I was no longer battling my addiction with pills. For the first time in a while, Sofia and I actually had a healthy relationship. Emma and Brad took a cab from the airport to our home. We offered to come pick them up, but they refused. It came by surprise when a six year old boy came out of the taxi with them. Sofia never informed me they had any kids or were bringing a kid. This meant I had to situate the house a little more. Thankfully, we had so many bedrooms; it was easy for me to put in a blow up mattress in a room right next to Brad and Emma’s. I shook hands with Brad, who didn’t look like he was aging to well, and Sofia gave Emma a rather long hug. I honestly never hung around Brad too much in high school; he played sports and I didn’t. The way Sofia described him; he was the perfect husband for Emma. Brad brought a case of Budweiser beer with him and we stuck it in the fridge. It had been a long time since I had drunk beer; I had always preferred hard alcohol. Sofia had meat loaf in the oven and was cutting up lettuce for the salad when I came up right behind her. “You didn’t tell me they had a child.” “I know isn’t he so cute?” Sofia obviously missed my point, when I tried to help her cut up the vegetables she shrugged me away. “Go watch the game honey.” Emma entered the kitchen with an apron on. “Yeah we’ve got this. You and Brad go do whatever it is you boys do.” I gave a decent smile and walked into the living room. In the living room, Brad was playing with his son. He had action figures laid all across the carpet. Brad looked genuinely happy to be a father and to interact with his son. I couldn’t help but think that somewhere along the line it had cost him. I saw a man that sacrificed his real ambitions in life. Brad could have played for any college football team he wanted back in his prime, but instead, he was playing with toys. I wondered if it was by choice or if the child was unexpected. “Brad, you want a beer?” Brad looked up and nodded his head. “Sure I’ll take a cold one.” I went into the fridge and grabbed of couple beers; I couldn’t help but notice Sofia and Emma in the kitchen. She looked so happy to have a conversation with someone else. I thought to myself, “Whose decision was it to live out here, more of mine or hers?” I left the two of them alone and walked back into the living room to watch the game. The meat loaf came out a little over cooked, but Brad and Emma did their very best to complement Sofia on her cooking. I think somewhere between the several bottles of wine Sofia and Emma had lost track of time. It was strange to see Sofia drinking; it had been since high school, the last time I saw her take a sip of anything. Brad came out of the kitchen with a bottle of my Johnny Walker that was barely open. “So you still keep it on top of the refrigerator I see. You mind if we have something a little heavier?” I was confused as to why he knew where I kept my whiskey. It didn’t take long for me to put two and two together and realize Sofia must have said something to them about my problem. “Why not? Pour me one as well.” Sofia looked at me not knowing whether to be worried or not. She knew it had been awhile since I had agreed to have a drink with anyone. After a moment, she turned around and pretended she didn’t see anything. If she had told Brad and Emma about my drinking, I questioned what else she told them about me. A lot of things had gone on since we decided to get back together. Things I wouldn’t want anyone else to know. I wasn’t as worried as what they might think of me; I was worried of anything that could damage our relationship. We didn’t need anyone else putting in their two cents. While I poured myself another drink, I sat back at the table and watched Brad and Emma: the way their hands moved, the tones of their voices, how close they sat next to each other at the dinner table. It seemed like every other second he was smiling and she was laughing or vice versa. I stared down at my plate and looked at the meatloaf; it wasn’t cooked how I liked it. It was cold and falling apart, the longer I proceeded to look at it, the sicker I became. The thought alone of biting into it made my stomach turn. Sofia put her hand on top of mine. “Are you alright?” I looked up at her; all conversation began to die down. “Do you not like it?” I snapped back into reality and regained my focus. “It’s lovely, babe.” I reached for the Johnny Walker and poured myself another drink; I was already on my fourth one. Sofia seemed concerned every time I took a drink but she was too embarrassed to say anything to me about it. After dinner, I had stepped outside with Brad to have a cigarette. Sofia and Emma were both washing the dishes together in the kitchen. Brad and I were standing on the front porch I hadn’t quite finished building yet. A tiny lamp above us was our only light. “Sofia tells me you’re putting some work into this place. “Just little things here and there.” I had a drag of my cigarette followed by a sip of my whiskey. “There’s not much to journal about out here.” I sighed and took another drag. “I gave up on writing a long time ago.” Brad looked out north and watched the wind blow through the trees. “I guess everyone has to grow up sometime.” Bra