The Best Laid Plans

…bringing you Sunday City News at Noon…

BZZZT-BZZZT-BZZZT-BZZZT

…a major traffic accident is causing delays; we’ll have live updates soon…

Jack felt the vibration of his phone against his cheek on the sticky linoleum. Groaning, his eyes still closed, he propped himself up on one arm. With a sigh he pried open his swollen, burning eyes, and stared as Channel 42’s red and blue "on-the-scene" sirens flashed across the screen.

BZZZZZT

Knocking aside an empty beer can, Jack jerked his hand towards the phone buzzing on the filthy kitchen floor and hit play on the new message.

…city crisis teams stretched thin after a spike in emergency calls…

“Hey, it's Eddie. Again. I am coming over. And look man I get it. I know you think you are just like that drunk driver that hit your brother. Punishing yourself won’t bring him back. I’m coming over.”

…one man is dead after a drunk driver ran a red light…

Now standing, Jack leaned against the kitchen table, moving a plate of old pizza out of the way. Jack glanced at the apartment door, heart racing as he scanned the small apartment, dreading Eddie’s visit. With a sigh, Jack looked down at his shirt, damp vomit stains on clothes.

Heaving himself up, Jack staggered across the kitchen. He paused, leaning against the wall to stare out the third-story window at the traffic speeding below. Then, he picked up the kitchen chair that was turned sideways on the floor where he had passed out and stumbled the rest of the way to the bathroom.

…authorities warn of a dangerous batch of street opioids circulating downtown…

Jack returned a few minutes later, his face washed, hair brushed and clean clothes. He paused as he walked across the living room to lean against the couch and stare unseeing at the television screen. Sighing, Jack shook his head and slowly scanned the small two-bedroom apartment, his eyes settling on the crushed pizza box and empty beer cans on the couch, before walking the rest of the way to the desk in the corner by the window.

He dropped into the old worn leather desk chair and clicked the mouse. A sailboat, with white sails that glared sharply against a blue sky, slicing through an even bluer ocean, filled the screen. Taped to the corner of the monitor was an old photograph of a smiling boy sitting in a fishing boat, holding a fish and an older man beaming with pride with his arm around him.

…today’s spotlight, states reporting increasing crime related to untreated addiction…

Annoyed, Jack leaned forward to touch his dead brother’s boyhood face, then ripped off the picture with a disgusted sigh and tossed it across the old wood desk without looking at it.

Jack clicked on Grace, the only icon on the desktop, and melted into the back of the chair.

The screen turned white and a text box appeared, as a soothing voice poured from the speakers, “Welcome back, Jack. I am still here. You are not alone today. Would you like me to open your audio journal?”

Jack rubbed his eyes and snapped, “Start the damn journal, Grace.”

“Of course. Audio Journal entry 257 is ready to begin.”

…addiction experts cite insurance gaps as key to mental health crisis…

Jack leaned back until the old chair creaked and stared at the ceiling, listening to the faint sounds of the busy city traffic outside his apartment.

“Remember how I said I’d never end up on a ledge? Yeah, well, it was close this time." Jack laughed bitterly, before admitting, "But you win again, brother, your code saved me.”

…mental health experts warned prolonged isolation is driving record levels of anxiety…

“All I kept thinking about was who would take care of Grace?” Jack glanced at the picture, face down against the wall

“Well, I hope you are fucking happy, now. I’m still alive in this shithole life with my dead brother’s AI.”

Sitting up straighter, he rolled the tension from his neck, “I found a picture of you and Dad."

…new city initiative aims to reduce stigma around seeking treatment…

“The one I took of you holding that giant catfish when we were kids. I thought Grace might like it if I got a frame for it for your desk. She misses you.”

Jack laid his head on his arms on the desk and stared at the screen silently copying his words into a text box. “I remember the first time you introduced me to Grace and I laughed at you.” Jack stared at the pens scattered across the floor, his face burning with shame again, suddenly.

“I could not understand how one of your codes could save me from the same fate as Dad, let alone help with the depression I inherited from mom.”

Jack reached across the desk and grabbed the picture and stared at his brother’s childhood smile. “How Grace could help us get that sailboat,” he choked.

…researchers explore promising therapies for treatment-resistant depression…

THUD.THUD.

Jack froze in his chair.

“Jack, It’s Eddie, open up…”

Jack sat motionless, only his heart racing in his chest and shame burning his face once more.

THUD. THUD. THUD

“I know you are in there; I can hear your TV. And Grace would have called me if you were dead.”

Jack swallowed deeply, still frozen in his chair as he held his breath, the picture still gripped in his fist.

“I brought you that book you like. The one with the angry letters to God.”

Jack propped his elbows on the desk and buried his face in his palms, rubbing his red, puffy eyes, but stayed silent.

…state lawmakers debate expanding funding for crisis-response units…

“Alright, I am leaving it here. Answer my call or I am coming back and coming in.”

Jack leaned forward, his head in his hands as he listened to Eddie leave the book at the door and his fading footsteps before exhaling angrily.

“You want honesty? Fine.” Jack yelled, pounding his fist on the desk. “I was doing just fucking fine. A whole year since that car and I just got so mad. Or maybe it was just an excuse. I don’t know.”

Jack paused and unclenched his hand, dropping the picture and stretching his hand flat and breathing.

“So, I woke up on the floor this morning.”

…trial shows AI screening tools can help identify opioid-use disorder earlier…

“I know, it serves me right. Seven months this time.” Jack laughed, bitterly.

“God, I hate this, talking to you like this.” Sitting up straight in his chair, Jack taped the picture to the corner of the monitor.

Laughing sharply, he glanced at the coffee pot in the kitchen. “If Eddie showed up, I bet Cousin Lori isn’t far behind.” Jack declared emphatically, and then softened, with a sigh, “I better mop up that kitchen floor.”

Pushing his chair back, Jack returned to the kitchen, pausing to glance out the window at the afternoon traffic below. Then he shook his head and turned to the kitchen counter, and tucked his mug under the coffee maker dispenser, and pressed start.

Sighing, he threw the empty beer cans into the trash and mopped the kitchen floor as the mug slowly filled with hot coffee.

…Families speak out after losing loved ones to untreated addiction…

BZZT…BZZT

Coffee mug now in hand, Jack snatched the phone from the desk, “Hey, Frank.”

“Nah, I’m good…Yeah, I know, she worries.”

Leaving the mug on the desk, Jack opened his apartment door and picked up the book Eddie had left for him.

“I know she does. Tell Lori I ate all the banana bread and thank her for me again, will you, for the new coffee maker? Oh hey, can you tell her I need her help buying a picture frame?” He dropped into the chair once more, sliding the book across the desk.

Jack relaxed back into the chair and laughed, “Well, this apartment can use a feminine touch…”

He glanced back at the picture of his brother and father. “...Yep, I’ll be there tomorrow, Frank, I appreciate the opportunity... Seriously, looking forward to seeing you, too…Yep, new dreams.”

Jack stood and stretched, before tossing the empty pizza box on the coffee table and dropping onto the couch, closing his eyes.

…the City Council meets tomorrow to discuss the downtown parking expansion…

BZZ…

Answering the call quickly, his phone in his hand, Jack covered his face with his arm, “Hey Eddie…I know, I scared me, too…I got the book...I promise.”

Jack glanced at the paperback and sighed, “Thanks, Eddie, really…yeah, I know, I’d do the same for you…I start with Frank tomorrow...Yeah, he is a good guy…Yes, Lori is thrilled…”

…Next up, in college basketball, it’s good news for the underdog…

“After work tomorrow, though? Pizza and some pool…Yep, tomorrow, then...bye.”

Jack rolled off the couch, paused with his head between his knees as he sat, breathing, before he stood and returned to the desk. Taking a drink of coffee, he put his phone on the desk once more.

The afternoon sun streamed through the window, spilling across the desk. “Grace?” he called, his voice raw and quiet.

“Yes, Jack?” Grace’s soothing voice wrapping around him.

He spoke softly. “Thank you for being here,” he said, staring at his brother’s boyish face smiling back at him in the old photograph.

“You made it. For today, that’s enough.”

…A local man won thirty-five thousand dollars on a scratch-off ticket…

“I want him to be proud of me.” Jack sat up straight in the desk chair once more, looking out the window at the blue sky above the buildings.

“I know,” Grace's soothing voice whispered reassuringly.

“Set an alarm for tomorrow for me?”

“It’s already set.”

Jack minimized Grace’s screen and stared at the sailboat on the desktop. Finally, he pushed his chair back and muttered to himself, “One day at a time, right?” He grabbed the pizza box as he walked by the coffee table and threw it in the kitchen trash can.