Besties

"Wow, Bob, I had no idea anything was going on."

"Yes, she was very embarrassed to think of herself as mentally ill. I guess, maybe the reason she had sex with those men was she was having an episode?" Bob was crying again. "Why didn't I see that before? And telling her you two couldn't talk. It was just too much for her. I let my anger rule my thoughts." Bob was almost choking, "I let her down, I let my Nicole down." He covered his face with his hands and he laid his face on the table sobbing.

I waited until he calmed down a bit. "But I shouldn't have taken her to the swinger club. It was the stupidest thing I've ever done. What was I thinking? I let my pussy rule my brain. I was horny and thought Nicole would get a kick out of watching. I'm an idiot."

"She had a hand in it, too," Bob said. "I think she quit taking her meds a few weeks ago. That is why I was going to ask her about yesterday when I went to the house. She hated them. Said they made her groggy. I'll bet when I review her prescriptions and pills at home, she hasn't taken them in weeks. And then, of course, even if she was manic, she should not have fucked those guys. She knew doing something like that would be the end of our marriage. I'm not sure if I can ever forgive her for that. I've got to pick up her parents at the airport in about an hour. I need to be going."

"Ok, Bob. I hope you can forgive my part. We both lost our best friend and maybe we can help each other."

"Hannah, we both loved her. We will always have that in common."

****

Four days later, the funeral was like another knife to my heart. It was then that I finally realized my bestie was really gone. I was numb for weeks. I don't know how I got through work. Everyone at the hospital understood how close we were and did their best to help.

Bob and I, as much as we had lost the same best friend, never talked much. He may have never forgiven me for my part. Who could blame him? I didn't really want to connect with him because I knew it would just dredge up the pain. But, for me, the pain never really went away.

****

After about a year, I needed out of Seattle and accepted a job at a clinic in the Bay Area. The hours were more steady, ten hours a day, four days a week. I liked the area but didn't make many friends. I still have a high sex drive so I watched porn and used my toys. I started drinking more and with my set schedule, I started drinking on Thursday nights and would be drinking or downright drunk through Saturday night. I used Sundays to recover. It's sad to say but many times while I was out getting groceries or a bottle, I was drunk. I was driving drunk and didn't give a shit. I didn't give a shit about much, just living day-to-day.

The sex toys got old and I started going to bars on Saturday nights with the sole purpose of getting laid. If I couldn't find someone nice early in the evening, I would later end up with a loser. I'd typically go back to his disgusting place where I would proceed to do some pretty disgusting stuff. Most of the time we weren't using condoms unless he insisted. I don't know how I never got an STD.

About four years after moving south, my Jerry showed up. He looked every bit like the disgusting guys from the bar. I would have described him as a biker type, although I found out he wasn't into bikes. He was a mechanic. Jerry was a big guy with a big belly, full beard, boots, and yes, lots of tattoos. It was late in the bar and nobody seemed interested in me except one guy who, after accepting a couple of drinks from him, went on to tell me all the perverted things we were going to do together. I was really drunk at that point, but I decided he was too slimy and I wanted to get rid of the guy.

Jerry walked over to the table and started talking to me like we were old friends. I could tell Mr. Pervert was annoyed when Jerry asked if I minded if he sat down. I was more than happy to have him join us. Jerry and I started talking and ignoring Mr. P, who finally got snippy.

"Look guy," Pervert said, "I've got several drinks invested in this gal tonight, and we were about to leave." He looked at me like I should confirm what he was saying, but I didn't respond.

Jerry slowly stood up and looked down at Perv. I looked up at Jerry and he looked like a mountain standing there.

"Yep, that's what you're doing alright. Leaving." He paused looking down. He was about 6 inches taller and had about 75 pounds on Mr. P, who suddenly started feeling really uncomfortable.

"Well, if you two are old friends, I guess I can leave you alone," he said, trying to find away from the table without looking like too much of a pussy.

Even in my drunken stupor, I was impressed. This guy was manly and I wanted to fuck him.

"Can we get out of here?" I asked, smiling.

"Sure babe, where do you live, I'll take you home."

"Can we go to your place? I don't live close. I can catch a ride home in the morning." I was hoping I was sending the signal to Mr. Mountain that wanted to get laid.

"Sure, I'll take you to my place if that's what you want."

"By the way, what's your name," I asked.

****

I stumbled into Jerry's place. Not a bad place for a biker dude, I thought. Not fancy, but well kept.

I sat on the couch, and Jerry came back with my drink. Water. I wasn't ready for that. He got up and was gone for a few minutes then came back with some blankets and a pillow.

"You can sleep here on the couch," he said.

He sat the blankets down, and I jumped up and wrapped my arms around the big guy. Most Saturday nights I was just scratching my horny itch, but I liked this guy and was feeling especially randy for him. I raised up on my toes to reach his face and started kissing him.

He kissed me back for a second then reached around and took my arms and put them at my side.

"Not tonight, sweetheart," he said in his deep voice.

"What do you mean not tonight?", I asked, annoyed at being rejected.

"I mean, you are too drunk."

"Too drunk? A girl can get too drunk to fuck?" I was definitely angry now.

"Yes, they can, and, you are."

"I've never heard that shit in my life. I'm horny, take me to bed," I spat, still slurring my words.

Jerry's voice became quiet and steady, like he wanted to clearly communicate his message. "Look, Hannah. You are a beautiful woman and even drunk, I can tell you are educated. Probably a teacher or something."

"Nurse," I quipped.

"I don't know why you were at that bar, but you're only here with me because you're drunk. Come sunup, you'll be sober. You'll see who you're with and want to sneak away. Then, the next time we see each other, if we ever did, you'll act like you don't recognize me.

"If you still want to have sex in the morning, after seeing me through sober eyes, I will be here for you."

I wanted to slap him. Hell, I wanted to fuck him, that wasn't going anywhere so I slept it off on Jerry's couch.

****

The next morning he was up cooking as I tried to shake off my hangover-induced fog. Last night was kind of a blur, but I remembered what happened. Mr. Pervert trying to get me drunk enough and Mr. Mountain telling me I was too drunk. The irony made me smile.

Jerry stuck his head around the door, "You up? What are you smiling about? Come and eat."

As I walked into the kitchen, he turned with a skillet of eggs in his hand. This guy really was a mountain. He had to be 6 foot 5 with a large frame and big belly out front.

We filled our plates without much talk. I needed something in my stomach. He poured milk into my glass.

Jerry looked over at me, and now he was smiling, "So, you still wanna fuck?" Then he laughed, knowing just how hungover I felt.

I laughed. "Maybe next time, huh? Next time, I won't drink so much."

"Yeah, next time," he smiled.

"Hey, thanks for rescuing me from that slimeball last night."

"Sure, my lady. Always willing to rescue a beautiful woman such as yourself."

Damn, he called me beautiful again, and I'm sure I wasn't very beautiful last night, stumbling and slurring my words, and I sure didn't feel beautiful this morning.

I suddenly realized I had a hair appointment at noon. I looked at my phone. I needed time to get cleaned up.

"Look, I'm sorry to rush off, but I have a hair appointment later."

Jerry just smiled.

A few minutes later I was headed out the door. "I want to thank you again. You were a gentleman. I haven't met many of those lately." I kissed him on the cheek.

I stepped through the door, and he was about to close it behind me when I stopped it with my hand.

"Aren't you going to ask me out? You said I was beautiful, about 5 times if I remember correctly. I promise to stay sober."

He looked at me for a second and smiled. "Would you like to go out sometime?"

****

Jerry was my savior. He rescued me that first night but saving me came later, and it was anything but easy.

We dated regularly after that first night and didn't have sex until after our third date. That night he asked me if I had any boyfriends. I realized later that he wanted to make sure we could be exclusive. He wasn't going to have sex with me if he was one of many. He asked about us being exclusive after our fourth date, and I told him he was more than enough man for me.

We got along great except I could tell my drinking bothered him. He wouldn't say anything but the more I drank, the quieter he became. And if I drank too much, he wouldn't have sex with me. He didn't drink. Pretty strange for a man you met at a bar. When I asked him about it, he told me he had a drinking problem, in fact, he said he was an alcoholic and hadn't drank for five years.

"Then what were you doing at the bar when we met?"

"I was there with friends, drinking my usual, water."

"But you were alone when you came to my table."

"Yes, I stayed after they left."

"Why stay after they left? You need to finish your water?" I knew something didn't add up.

"I was watching you."

"But you didn't know me, why were you watching me? We didn't even have sex after we ended up at your place."

"Cause I could tell you were drunk, and I could see that guy might take advantage."

I think I fell in love with Jerry at that moment. This mountain of a man, who looked like a biker, had so much compassion that he stayed behind to watch over a drunk stranger. A stranger that he didn't take advantage of and felt was out of his league. He all but told me I would never have the time for him once I was sober.

****

We were getting along well and one night we were at his place. I was expecting to watch a movie and cuddle. After a light dinner, Jerry had a serious look on his face. I knew something was different and he was out of sorts.

"What is it Jerry, is something wrong?"

"Hannah, I really like you, and we have been getting closer haven't we."

"Of course we have, what's wrong?"

"Well, we need to talk about our pasts. I know a few things but we haven't told each other everything."

"Everything, Jerry? What do you mean, everything?"

"You're in pain, Hannah. You haven't told me about why you are in so much pain."

"My pain? My pain- well there was something, but I'm happy being with you. My pain is in the past."

"No it isn't Hannah, or I wouldn't be feeling it in you." He paused. "I think it's why you drink so much, you know."

"That's bull Jerry. I like drinking. I enjoy it."

"You don't just drink Hannah, you get falling-down drunk. Did you drink like that before the accident, or whatever it was?"

"No, I guess not, but that's not why I drink."

"Hannah, you know I go to AA every Tuesday night. What you don't know is I still call my mentor when I feel like drinking and, even after five years, that still happens often. I went through a traumatic event and thought I could drink it out of my head."

Jerry shook his head. "Hannah, it doesn't work that way. I had to face what I had done and also face the fact that I had become an alcoholic?"

I just stared at Jerry without saying a word.

"Do you want to talk about it, Hannah?"

I didn't speak, just continued to stare at him. I just couldn't tell Jerry the horrible thing that I had done to my best friend or her resulting death.

Jerry dropped it that night and didn't mention 'my accident' afterward. I knew I needed to talk to him about it but I just couldn't.

Now, after our talk, I couldn't stop thinking about all that had happened. And now that I associated my drinking with Nicole's suicide, so I drank more. I would start drinking and would think of Nicole, then I needed to drink even more to get her out of my head.

About a month later Jerry indicated he wanted to end our relationship. He took me out to dinner and told me he thought our relationship had gone about as far as it could. I knew he'd given me the opportunity to tell him my story but I just couldn't. I couldn't bring Nicole and that pain to the Bay Area. I thought I had left it in Seattle. Now things were getting worse. I had to drink to keep her out of my head and Jerry, being an alcoholic, couldn't live with an alcoholic.

I couldn't confront it that night and his confrontation about my 'pain' pissed me off as much as him dumping me.

"I'm not an alcoholic, Jerry," I spat. "Fine, it's over," I yelled loud enough so everyone in the place knew what was happening as I stormed towards the door.

****

"My name is Nicole and I am an alcoholic," I said from the door of the large conference room. Jerry turned with a look of shock on his face. He jumped up and escorted me to his seat then got another chair and sat beside me. He held my hand that first night. No, I didn't tell everyone my story that first night. I just sat quietly and listened to others.

I did tell Jerry the whole story at his place later that night. I cried through most of it, but I began to realize that I couldn't run from the pain and god, how I still missed Nicole.

Jerry told me his story. He was drunk driving and t-boned a guy. They weren't sure the guy would live at first and he had three kids. But he did make it and his only long-term physical injury was a limp. Jerry got four years and served almost two. Jerry, like me, tried to use alcohol to get past the pain.

Therapy and AA helped me. Eventually, I reconnected with Bob and found out he had remarried and now had two kids. That helped too.

I can't say I ever got over it. The pain of missing Nicole is still with me. I think about her most days. I put pictures of her in our house and believe she is with me every day. She's still my bestie, and I will meet with her again in the hereafter. I firmly believe that.

Yes, Jerry and I got married. We never had kids, got too late of a start. With Jerry, I know I've found real love. We may look like a strange pair, but we're two lost souls that had found each other for the remainder of our journey. I thank God regularly for that. We have a comfortable love, and I try to be there for Jerry as much as he is here for me.

We're in our seventies now, so it won't be long before I'm back with Nicole and Jerry will be there at some point, too. I still miss her every day and wish things had been different, that I had made different decisions.

So be careful of your choices. Time is a one-way road, and you can't go back.

The End