The phone was ringing as we stepped out onto the garage floor. The dinner party lasted
about 45 minutes too long, though we did have a good time. Once he loosened up with a few
drinks, Michael told PGA golf stories that I could never have imagined on my own. Apparently,
Michael knew a home builder in Florida that he could hook Walt up with.
“Who the hell is calling us know?” I said to Susan. “Did you leave your purse at the
Sullivans?”
Susan held her purse up. “Nope, have it right here.”
I raced into the house to pick the phone up before it rolled to voice mail.
“Hello?” I said not sure if the voice mail had picked up.
“Nick, it's Larry Higgins. Your son Tom is over at our house and needs a ride home. He
can explain the mess that he has made.”
“Uh, okay,” I responded. “I'll be there in five minutes.” I hung the phone up and spun to
Susan who was now standing in our kitchen with a worried look on her face.
“Is Tom okay?” she whispered loudly.
“I think so,” I said. “It sounds like Tom got into a bit of trouble at Larry Higgins' house.”
“What?” Susan screamed.
I started walking back toward the garage. “I don't think you should come,” I told my
wife. “Let me get the facts and we'll all deal with this when we get home.”
Susan rushed up behind me. “Well, you apologize like there is no tomorrow to Larry and
Gail.”
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I really thought Susan would put up more of a fight to go along with me, so it must have
been the alcohol and the hour of the night talking for her.
All the different ways to make a mess at a party ran through my mind. Tom must have
gotten way drunk – Larry's voice sounded very pissed off - so it had to be big. Maybe he threw
up in their living room or something. Maybe he broke some china. Too many maybe's. That got
my heart racing to unhealthy levels for that hour.
“Oh man.” I rubbed my forehead and drove the car out of our neighborhood. The Higgins
lived about a ¼ mile to the north on Midland Drive. It was starting to snow lightly with the wind
picking up quite a bit. I had always heard that most every high school student got into some kind
of alcohol related trouble at least once. Was this Tom's time? I didn't know Larry that well, but I had a feeling that I was about to get to know him a whole lot more. I just hoped he was somewhat
rational and calm.
I pulled up to the Higgins house…everything seemed quiet - no police or ambulance –
which was a good sign. I re-entered the freezing night after parking my car as close to the front
walk as possible. About halfway up the walk, Larry came storming out of the house with Tom
close behind and looking at the ground the whole way. There was a 25 mile per hour wind racing
up the front yard and smacking us as we met.
“My wife is too hysterical,” Larry shouted over the wind. “That's why we're out here.”
“Okay…”
Larry glanced over at Tom. “I don't know how to say this gently, but your son somehow
managed to throw up all over our king sized bed in our master bedroom.”
I let this sink in for a few seconds, giving a Larry a chance to mention any other problems
Tom had caused that night. Nothing more came out of his mouth.
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“Well, we will replace any damaged items and I'll have to find a good punishment for my
son.” What else could I say because I just told him that I was going to buy a new mattress and
linens as well as whatever else they needed?
The front door flew open and Gail poked her head outside. She was still crying. The spit
wrapped words flying out of her mouth were illuminated by the floodlights shining on this
frazzled woman. “Nick, we'll have to spend the night at the Headquarters Plaza hotel and get a
cleaning crew in here tomorrow morning! This is unbelievable…did Larry tell you that I'm sick?”
Gail quickly pulled her head back inside the house, clearly not interested in an apology
from me just then.
Standing there shivering, I decided to get a little bold. “Larry, let me ask you…where
were you and Gail tonight?”
Larry looked at me like I had no right to be asking snooping questions. Maybe I didn't
but I still didn't understand how this party happened. And, this close to midnight in the howling
wind, I needed to put all of this into context.
“Gail and I were in the city for some Broadway shows, but Gail fell ill and we decided to
cancel the trip and return home this evening.”
I glanced over at Tom who was still staring at the ground.
“And you two returned home to find a party in your house.”
“That's right.” Larry sniffed loudly. He was trying mightily to not show that he was
freezing his ass off. I had no so much ambition.
“Tom, get into the car,” I said. “Larry, I will contact you tomorrow and pay for all
damages and hassles like your hotel and cleaning service costs.”
“Alright, that sounds fair.” Larry turned and started walking back to the house. He
quickly pulled his jacket tighter.
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I got back into the car where Tom was humming a song and apparently still quite drunk.
Susan and I weren't stupid - we knew there would be parties, but not like this.
“Dad, I'm really sorry,” Tom pleaded. “I don't know how this happened.”
“How much have you had to drink?” I realized that he likely threw most of it up onto
Larry and Gail's bed. How he ended up there I didn't think I'd ever know.
“I don't know, several beers and a couple shots.”
Susan rarely raised her voice at Tom but tonight was going to be different, possibly. I'd
always been the yeller in the house and, if Tom were more sober, yelling might have been more
effective.
I figured I had to give him some bombastic wisdom right then, so I launched into.
“Well, I hope you got that out of your system,” I said to start. “Look, I remember getting
drunk with my high school buddies, so I could sort of relate. But I never caused the kind of
problem that you caused tonight, which is forcing Jenny's parents to buy a new mattress for their
bed, actually, we're paying for it, which means you will be paying us in due time.”
As I was saying these words, I knew they were just that, words. I was a fraud at that
moment because I wouldn't be around to see any of his punishment through. There shouldn't
have been any self hate over my predicament, yet it was horribly difficult not to at this moment.
Tom needed solid parents right then, and he had six days of that left.
Tom and I didn't say anything else for the rest of the short ride, giving my mind a chance
to race. It was no longer snowing. I'd have to bring my checkbook over to Larry's the next day,
though it wasn't about the money. I just couldn't believe Tom had pulled this stunt less than a
week before my crime scene act.
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I rubbed my eyes and wondered how I was going to get any sleep that night. Maybe
Susan had gone to bed.
As we pulled into the garage, Susan opened the door. “I called Gail and asked her what
happened. How could you Tom?”
Tom slinked out of the car, no longer humming a song.
“Hon, let's all go to bed and talk about in the morning,” I said to Susan. “Tom could use
some sobering up.”
Susan kinked her head to the side. “Are you sure?”
Nodding my head, I firmed my lips in affirmation. Susan had her night gown on and
exhaustion was quickly embracing me.
When we all got back into the house, Tom scampered up the stairs to his room without
saying a word. Susan and I embraced in the front foyer.
“We'll come up with the right punishment,” I informed my wife.
Susan gave me peck on the cheek. “I know, but this is so embarrassing…I mean, I didn't
know Gail all that well, but she is pretty connected.”
We kissed for a few seconds. I could taste the white wine.
I looked deeply into Susan's eyes, and saw that she was not exactly sober, either.
“Hmmm…well, we're going to make it right the best we can, okay?
“I sure hope that you're right.” Susan put her head on my right shoulder.
With that, we strolled upstairs and made love. I wondered if that was going to be our last
time for a long while.
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Saturday, January 11th
7:15am