Healing Together

Trigger warning: Substance abuse, death, mental health, and language

“I don’t G-GET IT!” Brooke yelled, digging her nails into her scalp. “Why didn’t h-he tell me he r-relapsed?! He was doing s-so well!” 

Brooke fell back onto her pillow and wept. She alternated between yelling and crying. It was 10 p.m.—five hours after Brian’s funeral ended. 

“I’m so sorry,” Abby said, hugging Brooke after she briefly calmed down. “I wish I had a time machine to stop Brian from drinking. But you know what? He loved you so much! And even though it’s hard now, you’re going to get through this.” 

Brooke wiped the tears from her bloodshot eyes, wishing she could have one more drink. Then she lay back down on her bed covered in cookie crumbs that had accumulated over the week. Abby lay down beside her, ignoring the filthy bed and cluttered floor. 

“I d-don’t believe that,” Brooke sobbed, rubbing her throbbing temples. “He was my f-first real love, you know? Th-the only guy who really understood me. He stuck with me through my mother’s d-death and my anxiety attacks. We were together for s-so long!” 

Abby stroked Brooke’s hair. Then she grabbed Brooke’s water bottle from her nightstand and handed it to her. 

“Th-thanks,” Brooke said, sipping the cold, cleansing water. It eased her scratchy throat. 

“Of course. It’s been a really long day. But I’m here for you. I’ll stay with you for a few days...if that’s okay.” 

“I would l-love that. But d-doesn’t your flight leave in a few hours? You have s-school, right?” 

Abby shrugged and rolled her eyes, leaning back on her pillow. “I’ll book another flight. My professors will understand. Plus, I hate chemistry!” 

Brooke laughed and then cried tears of gratitude. Abby had been there for her through thick and thin since they were in kindergarten. Even though they had lived several states away for five years, they talked every night and saw each other on Christmas break and their birthdays in the summer. 

“Do you want another piece of lasagna…or maybe chocolate cake?” Abby suggested. 

Brooke laughed again. Then she rolled her eyes and stood up unsteadily. “We’ll be eating c-cake and lasagna f-for months!” 

Although she was grateful for all the food from the funeral guests, the quantity was overwhelming. It was a good thing she had a huge appetite. 

Abby supported Brooke on their way to the kitchen. Before the ladies could get to the fridge, the doorbell rang. 

“Ugh! T-Tell them to leave!” Brooke snapped. She plopped in a chair and ran her hands through her messy blonde curls. She imagined Brian walking through the door, clean-shaven in a sexy blue plaid shirt and smelling like Kenneth Cole cologne. 

Instead, Brooke smelled the stench of her breath of pasta, fries, wine, cake, broccoli casserole, and cigarettes. And her favorite black dress was wrinkled and full of wine stains, her hair as frazzled as her mind. A shock wave rushed through her, and she felt like she was suffocating in quicksand. She craved one more glass of wine, but she couldn’t find the energy to move. 

As Abby walked to the front door, she silently rehearsed her calm and polite request for the guest to leave. On the front porch, Brian’s cousin, Kevin, held out a chopped salad. 

“Um...I’m sorry to just drop by like this,” Kevin said wearily. “I know you need time with Brooke. The funeral was pretty…overwhelming.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Abby whispered. “She will LOVE the salad. Thank you!” 

“Yeah, of course. I figured Brooke would have enough cake, lasagna, and pizza for a while. How are you two holding up?” 

“I’m okay, considering. Brooke’s…doing better than I expected,” Abby lied, not wanting to worry Kevin. 

“Okay. Well, I’ll let you girls get back to what you were doing. Call me if you need anything. Good night.” 

Kevin gave Abby an awkward hug and left. Right after Abby returned to the kitchen, she found Brooke with her head in her hands, crying loudly and hyperventilating. Abby put the salad on the table. Then she sat next to Brooke and rubbed her back. She didn’t know what to say. 

After a few more minutes, Brooke calmed down again. She finally held her head up, still slouching in the chair. 

“Do you want to go to your bedroom? It would probably be more comfortable there,” Abby suggested. 

Brooke nodded, letting Abby lead her upstairs. Abby was relieved to be going back to the cozy bedroom. It had been one of the hardest days of her life as well. Brian was one of her first friends. Abby introduced him to Brooke on the playground in kindergarten. She helped them both realize they liked each other. She even helped both of them pick out what to wear on their first actual date in high school. Abby brought them together. Now, she watched Brooke unravel after death tore her and Brian apart. 

At midnight, Abby dressed in the soft pink and purple floral pajamas that Brooke gave her for her 16th birthday. While Brooke showered, she discarded the week-old fast food wrappers and cookie remnants from the carpet. She only allowed herself to cry as the shower continued running. 

When Brooke came out of the bathroom, she wore the blue, pink, and green tie-dye pajamas that Abby gave her for her 16th birthday as well.  

“Aww! You look so cute, Brooke!” 

“Th-thank you,” Brooke whispered weakly. “So do you.”  

“Do you want me to help you brush your hair?” 

It was a silly question, but the girls always brushed each other’s hair during sleepovers. They hadn’t had a sleepover in over a year. Life just got hectic since Brooke graduated from college. Abby wanted to remind her of the good times. 

“I see you remembered our 16th birthday party,” Abby laughed as she carefully brushed through Brooke’s knot. 

“How c-could I forget?” Brooke replied. “We always celebrated our birthdays together. That was honestly one of th-the best birthdays I ever had.” 

“Yeah!” Abby sighed. “We went to the Fall Out Boy concert followed by a camping trip.” 

“Then we went to your house...a-and your mom treated us to facials and massages,” Brooke recalled. 

“And now, we’re here, wearing the pajamas that we both got each other for our 16th birthday. I’ve missed you so much, girl! No matter what happens--” 

“We have e-each other’s backs,” Brooke added. 

“That’s right! How about we try to go to sleep? We can reminisce more tomorrow.” 

As the girls tried to close their eyes, their minds were on overdrive, recalling the entire day. 

Brian, come back, please! Brooke silently begged. We’ll go back in time. I’ll stop you from drinking. We’ll go to AA meetings together. I’ll tell you I love you, and we’ll talk about wedding plans. Hell, we’ll elope. Just come back! 

Rationally, she knew that she wouldn’t get an answer. But she ached for one. After struggling to sleep for 10 minutes, she crept to the bathroom. As she splashed cool water on her face, she heard Brian’s voice. 

I’m sorry, baby. I should have told you I relapsed. I love you so much! Please, take care of yourself. Open up to Abby. You need each other. You’ll be okay. I know you can’t see me, but I can see you. I’ll always be watching over you.

“W-What?!” Brooke gasped and looked around but got no response. Am I dead? Or still drunk? she wondered, feeling her body for a sign of existence. Then she realized it was just her imagination. But still, it somehow calmed her down. She believed that everything would be okay. 

Five minutes after she went back to bed, she was almost asleep. Then she heard loud, uneven whimpers beside her. As she turned to her side, the faint moonlight bleeding through the blinds revealed Abby’s tear-stained face. This was only the second time Brooke saw Abby weep. It was as though she hid all her tears from the world to be strong for others. 

Brooke had been grieving so much that day that she didn’t really think about how her best friend was doing. Even though Brian wasn’t Abby’s boyfriend, they were very close, like siblings. 

Abby was the yin to Brian and Brooke’s yang—the matchmaker and peacemaker simultaneously. So, of course, she understood Brooke’s grief a little bit. 

Talk to Abby, my love, Brian’s voice whispered. Help each other heal. You’ll be okay.

Before Brooke had a chance to react, Abby’s eyes snapped open. “I can’t do this anymore!” she wailed. 

She told Brooke all about how Brian’s death triggered the memories of her brother, who also died from alcohol poisoning. She also talked about all the things she wanted to say to Brian before he died. Then she apologized for unleashing all her emotions on Brooke, who needed her strength. 

“It’s okay,” Brooke said, wrapping her arms around Abby. “You were good friends. So, it’s okay to grieve. We’ll heal...together.” 

And that’s what they are doing now. Abby is living with Brooke and taking classes online. Every week, Brooke and Abby attend grief support groups and AA meetings together. It will be a long road to healing. There will be good times and bad times. But Brooke and Abby will never be alone.