Chapter Twenty-five

Howie picked up his answering machine and hurled it across the living room after Brian called. He was the last of his friends to call, followed by his parents and his brother. He didn’t want to hear them express how sorry they were, and he certainly didn’t want to talk to any of them.

Stinker cowered under a chair, afraid to go near her master. Howie couldn’t blame her. He took another swig from the wine bottle glued to his hand and let his head loll back against the couch.

It was over. Lori would never see him again, and there was nothing he could do about it. The game was over and he’d lost, bigtime.

“And why?” he wondered out loud. “All because you were afraid she couldn’t handle it? What kind of bullshit is that, huh, Howie?!”

The tears were threatening to fall again, only this time he wouldn’t let them. He wiped angrily at his eyes and stood up on shaky legs, making sure to keep a good grip on the wine bottle. Somehow he made it through the kitchen and let himself out onto the patio.

The pool water glistened in the early moonlight, beckoning to him. He remembered the evening he and Lori had spent playing in the pool. They’d stayed in the water until their skin had nearly shriveled beyond recognition.

He kicked off his shoes and grabbed hold of the railing, stepping into the water. He didn’t care that his pants were getting wet or that the water was cool. All he cared about was numbing the pain. The wine just wasn’t working.

He let the bottle slip from his fingers. It splashed and spilled its contents, making a pretty red swirl that went all the way to the bottom. He smiled, wondering if he could follow that swirl.