Virginia Beach, Virginia
December 26, 2017
Dan drove home on Christmas Eve and spent Christmas day drinking a bottle of bourbon that he consumed in the darkness of his quiet living room. Bright strings of light were strung everywhere in the neighborhood but he couldn’t pull himself out of the bleak funk that pulled him down. Waves of emotion seemed to crash down on him like those in a powerful surf zone. The next day, he drank cup after cup of coffee, feeling more miserable as the day went on. He couldn’t sleep or sit still. He had tortured his body with alcohol but that hadn’t touched the grief and anger and loneliness that he felt. His pounding head constantly reminded him of his bitter solitude. No tree, no decorations, not the gift he always hid on the tree for Jill. Just a deafening silence.
Dan suddenly woke and stared at the little light through puffy eyes and finally recognized his phone blinking. He’d missed a call. Still groggy, he felt his muscles involuntarily twitch when he saw the Washington, DC area code and hit the redial button. His mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and he wasn’t sure that he could even speak.
“Sandy Matthews,” crackled the familiar voice over the line.
“Hi. What’s up?”
“President Bowles called the Admiral and asked that the three of us come over for breakfast tomorrow morning to give him an update on where we stand on the investigation. No slides. No staff. Just a small breakfast roundtable with the Commander-in-Chief.”
“OK. I’ll drive up later tonight and see you in the morning.”
“How are you doing? You don’t sound like your usual energetic self.”
“I gave myself a real bad hangover for Christmas and feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.”
“I know it must be especially tough for you during this time of year. We’ll meet the Admiral in his office tomorrow at 07:00 a.m. and go over to the White House in his car. That way we can compare notes before we sit down. Breakfast at 08:30 a.m. Are you going to be able to make it?”
“I’ll be there.”
Despite the sudden rush of adrenaline flowing through his body, Dan wondered if he could recover enough from the alcohol poisoning and emotional whiplash to make it back to DC and be prepared for the meeting with the President the following morning. He headed to the health club in a nearby mall that offered both a steam bath and a sauna, determined to sober up and never again to repeat this approach for treating his depressed mental state. It hadn’t done anything to get him closer to finding his family’s killers.