Page 67 of Present Tense

FLETCH: No. No. It’s both of them. Door’s open. Thanks, man.

Ethan is useless getting Ben to his feet. Ben has stopped puking. I rinse the can out in the bathroom and place it back under him. I can’t get them upstairs simultaneously, and I don’t want to leave them unattended.

I pick up all of their drunken paraphernalia. I swear they’ve housed through at least six bags of chips and his mom’s secret Oreo stash. Assholes. Morons. I would’ve taught him how to drink, but I guess it’s a rite of passage. He’s definitely going to Oreo puke.

Jake comes downstairs with his eighteen-month-old daughter babbling away. She’s adorable, and Jake loses a bit of authority with her hanging off the front of him. “Jesus, Ben. Ethan.” I hold up the nearly empty bottle of Scotch.

“Dad! Hi Dad! Hi, Mr. Fletcher. I had some drinks.”

“Ben, I can’t even begin to tell you the kind of trouble you just slid into. I’m only happy it happened here and not out in the world. Whose Scotch is this?”

“Mine, Mr. Turner.” Ethan puts his hand up. “I mean, I think it used to be Fletch’s.”

I turn toward Jake. “I’m sorry, man. I had no idea.”

He waves me off. “They would have gotten liquor somewhere.”

Ethan slurs out the following sentence with his head lolling back, pointing to me. “Well, Fletch, you weren’t supposed to be home until six-ish.”

I say, “Morons, it’s seven thirty.”

“Fuck,” Ethan hisses out.

Jake and I hiss in unison, “Language.”

I pull Ethan to standing and drag him up the stairs as he’s laughing. “If Mom knew, I’d be in so much trouble. I’m glad it’s you here so I can’t get in trouble. You can’t yell at me. I win.”

Jake winces, as do I. I’m not sure what to do. Jake hauls his son up behind us. I put Ethan on the living room couch. I help get Ben in the car with our garbage can. After Jake shuts the door, he turns to me. I have my hands in my khakis.

“Look, man. We don’t know each other that well, but I’d like to think we’re friends.”

I nod.

Jake glances into the car’s back seat, and Pearl is still babbling. He pushes his big thick black glasses up his nose, then runs his hand through his floppy hair. “This may be overstepping, but that boy needs a real dad moment out of you. You up for it? If not, no big deal, I’ll talk to him. I’ve stepped in before.”

“You have?” She let Jake talk to Ethan about dad-type stuff. Why the fuck am I so shut out of all of this? Well, I’m in it now.

“Yeah, sure, it takes a village and all that. But this is different. You’re the man in his life. You can’t let him step on you.” He puts his hand on my shoulder, and we both lean back on his car.

“Jillien’s not going to like any of this.”

“She’s not here. You are. And by addressing this in the moment, you are being there for both of them. If you need me, call, but I think in the long run, she’ll appreciate someone cared enough about her son to do something.”

I slap his shoulder. “Thank you. I feel the same, but it’s nice to hear what I’m thinking is the right thing.”

“I’m on your side. Let’s grab a beer soon. I’m out next week recording, but this week I got time to commiserate on what a pain in the ass thirteen-year-old boys can be.”

“I’ll hit you up. Thanks. Seriously. Thanks.”

“You got this.”

“No, I do not, but I’m good at faking it till I make it.”

Jake laughs and climbs into the car. I half-heartedly wave, then turn back toward the house. I scrub my face and feel my stubble starting to come in. I should schedule a shave. Or maybe I’ll grow it out for a month or so. I scratch at my cheeks. I am literally thinking of anything I have control over besides the mess waiting for me inside.

I check Northwestern’s film camp website, and it’s listed that I signed both boys out at lunch today. Fuck me. I think about my dad and hope I can live up to a man who gave everything to us and yet never gave an inch.

I slam the door when I see he’s passed out on the couch. He startles and almost falls off. He sits up and pushes his overgrown hair out of his face. I’ve known him for six months now, and he’s a good kid. This was something else. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he’s setting me up pretty fucking good.