"Great men are like eagles, and build their nest on some lofty solitude."

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𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔

The house is a mess. Dishes fill the sink, the trash needs to be taken out. My laundry isn't done. I need a haircut. My shoes are scattered all over the floor.

I'm a mess.

I roll out of bed around noon. I meant to sleep in for once. What reason did I have to get up any earlier?

Work called, I told them I'm sick. Again. It's not a complete lie, I do feel like shit.

With a tickle in my throat, I walk to the bathroom, scratching my balls, to spit in the sink.

Ding-dong!

I look in the mirror and scowl.

Who the fuck is at the door?

Anyway, I don't want company unless it's Morgan.

I ignore it and go to the kitchen upstairs to grab some OJ but there's only a sip left.
I curse myself because I know this is my doing, but it's Morgan's job to go shopping.

Well, Morgan's not here, I mentally kick myself.

The chattering voices of sports commentators serve as background noise. It helps to drain out the voices in my head - the guilty ones that are telling me I'm wrong and need to get my girl back.

I'm scrolling on my phone to find breakfast that I can have ordered when the doorbells rings again.

My footsteps carry to the door where I open it and see Kelsey - Morgan's maker.

Her eager grin quickly turns into a frown.

"Where's Morgan?" She asks.

"Why would you not ask her before just popping up?"

She pushes her way in and clutches her purse close to her body.

Her heels click along the floor as she walks fast, not acknowledging the barking dogs.

"I wanted to surprise my daughter, is that okay with you?" She snarks back, standing in the middle of the family room floor. That's just our dynamic.

"What do you want, Kelsey?" I have to ask plainly.

The sound of me cracking open a can of beer makes her watch me in silence with her lips parted.

"Since we're asking questions," she gripes, "why are you drinking at twelve o'clock on a Tuesday."

~

"—She left me because she wants me to stop drinking, that doesn't make any sense. I fucking need her, why would she leave me, it's not going to help o-or change anything?" I conclude my rant to Kelsey. Surprisingly, she's been a great listener. I thought it would be weird to sit with her alone and just talk, but she's told me her story and even had a beer or two herself.

Kelsey was a sorority girl who made a name for herself as "Kegstand Kels" in college. When she found out she was pregnant with Callie, she stopped drinking... a month later.
Owen never cared for alcohol much, he always dabbled in "light" drugs such as shrooms or ecstasy, all experimental. He came from a family that didn't drink at all due to their strict religious upbringing, so he never understood why the so called love of his love had this addiction. She beat it, though, Kelsey.

What I'm trying to say here is that my future mother-in-law understands that a drink or two can take the edge off. Shit, I need more than an edge.
She also doesn't judge my father for his past which is nice because most people are kind of condescending about that shit.

We're sitting at the picnic table in my backyard, listening to the wind blow and the hustling sounds of the city around us. It's actually kind of peaceful.

When I offer my blunt to Kelsey, she eyes me like "don't push it, kid." I guess drinking with my future mother-in-law is acceptable, smoking weed is not. Noted.

Her head tilts. "Well, if she left you, it's because your drinking is a problem and she wants you to change the behavior or you'll lose her-"

"I don't have a drinking problem." I reply so fast, it wasn't even a thought in my mind, the words just spilled out.

Kelsey's eyes are blue, partially like her daughter. What they do have in common about them, though, is how inquisitive they are. They see everything all of the time, like how Kelsey notices my leg shaking and contributes my rapid body language to what she believes is me being dishonest.

"Hm," she hums before pausing for another beat. "How do you think your parents feel about your drinking, Chris? Morgan noticed, your friends did, I did, I'm sure they have..."

I don't say anything back, only swallow and stop my leg from it's sporadic movement.

"On second thought," Kelsey exhales, "I will take a hit." She reaches for the blunt.

"This conversation can stay between us, if you'd like. And the weed, too." She suggests, choking, as she hands it back to me.
~~~

It wasn't easy, but I got the hookup from a friend of a friend to score a last minute roundtrip ticket to Colorado.

Of course I owe him one, but it's not like the plane was fucking packed.

Actually, the whole process of checking in, going through security, and everything reminded me how much I don't like flying. It's just annoying, I don't hate it but it's not a preference or some fucking magical experience like others make it seem. Maybe I just hate flying alone, that's what it is. Morgan loves the airport. She loves packing days ahead and going shopping for miniature travel necessities. She enjoys waking up at three in the morning to get ready and then be at the airport two hours early. Why she likes early morning flights so much, I'll never know. I guess it is the best time to fly, though, it's quiet. Then she never sleeps on the plane, but I suppose that's because no flight we've ever been on together has been that long.

"Hi," a woman smiles with large teeth. "Are you alone, can I sit here?"

Removing my headphones, I almost say no and then I notice the draping over her chest isn't a fashion statement but a baby in a blanket instead.

"Yeah, yeah." I stammer, trying to agree.

I move my belongings and take up the next seat so she can have enough space.

"Thank you," She sounds tired but still smiles. "Are you traveling alone?"

"Uh, yeah," I say, looking up from my phone. "How old is your baby?"

"He's four months. Here." She offers a better view of her baby's face to me and he's actually precious.

I catch myself smiling and wave at the little guy when he cracks his eyes open.

"He's a good baby, quiet." I say, sitting back.

"Thank you." Her voice is kind, soft.

I get ready to offer her something to eat or drink, she seemed tired or winded, but the husband approaches with a little girl in pigtails.

"Hi there." He says to me, rushing.

"What took so long?" She asks the tall man in glasses and flip-flops.

"The line is outrageous and I spilled your drink so I had to get another." He talks fast in this animated voice that sounds like it belongs to a Disney character.

He sits down in the seat next to where I put my bag and says hello to me again. Squirrely guy.

"Where ya headed?" He wonders, pulling the daughter onto his lap as she plays with her tablet.

"Colorado, man." I tell him. "You?"

"The fam and I are headed back home to Tennessee. Ever been?" He asks me.

"Nah, I haven't." I turn my headphones off, seeing this guy won't shut up.

"Oh, great place," He exclaims, talking with his hands. "nice food, good music, great people. Awesome school districts, we love it there. I'm an engineer, actually-"

"Oh, nice. Architect." I tell him.

His blue eyes light up. "You don't say! Who're you working for, man?"

"Right now, Torro, but-"

"With, um, Shawn Bowie, yeah?"

I shut my eyes for a second at the mention of that name. "Uh, no, man. Tim Torro junior is the owner and Beck Jordan replaced Bowie as partner."

His mouth pulls down into a frown as he consumes this new information and bobs his head.

Suddenly, he snaps his fingers and gasps, "Pyro!"

"I'm sorry?" I wonder.

"You work with Russ Brown, right? I met him out here one night and he mentioned you. Strange guy, I don't care for him much, a bit too flashy for me. I like your work, though." He goes on.

"Thank you." I express humbly.

His wife stands to round up the kids and their things. "Hon', that's our flight. You ready?"

"Sure am," He affirms, springing onto his feet. "Nice to meet you, pal. Hey, if you're ever in Nashville..."

I shake his hand and stand as well, seeing my line start to grow with anxious passengers.

"Let's go, Miller's!" He rounds up his family and leads the way, marching and grinning all corny.

I'm giving him and his picture-perfect clan a hard time but it's actually kind of nice to see them excited to go back home.

I guess I'm a little excited to go home, too. I didn't mention to Morgan that I was coming, I want it to be a surprise. She'll appreciate the gesture.

I have a feeling this isn't going to be that easy, though, I think in my head. I need a drink.