Chapter 8
Dan never said he was going to try and sober up. Jonas didn’t see him drinking, but he knew he only ever saw a fraction of what Dan drank. He’d find hidden empty bottles in the flat and at work, or smell the vodka or whiskey in Dan’s coffee, but he let it go. He was no one to pass judgment on a healthy lifestyle. He assumed Dan was drinking on the down low, until the tremors started.
Dan had recently published, for pay, a feature article in Sugar Ape called “Rise of the Idiots.” It was a one-off deal, and Jonatton had paid him very, very well. Dan, in turn, paid for Jonas to record some professional-quality demos. The demos had led to Jonas landing an especially sweet regular gig, DJing at Stanley Knives. It was one of the trendiest places in Shoreditch and boasted some major movers and shakers as regular customers. Jonas had no idea who came in during his shifts, because when he was in his music, he was in his music and oblivious to all else, but he’d started getting business cards. He had to give up Sweet Pipes, because he was gigging days and nights, and his evenings were spent either in bed with Dan or sending out demos. Sometimes one, then the other.
When Dan started getting the DTs, Jonas worried about leaving him alone, but Dan resisted any doting. Dan was working a shift at Sweet Pipes when he had his first seizure.
Jonas was sleeping in the waiting room when a pair of Northern accents startled him awake.
He’d seen Dan’s parents from a distance the night Claire had been in the accident, but it was strange to see them up close. Dan had his father’s height and build, but his hair and eyes clearly came from his mother. Watching them interacting with the staff, Jonas could see Dan’s spiky shyness in his father and his opinionated verbosity in his mother. It was interesting to watch the couple work effectively as a team to get their questions answered and their needs met, while Dan usually struggled so ineffectively to balance his strong personality with a desire not to draw too much attention to himself.
“Jones?”
Jonas jumped, feeling oddly guilty. He dearly hoped she had no idea what he’d got up to with Dan in the men’s room nearly eight years ago. It was clear where Claire had gotten her ‘feisty’ personality. Jonas felt like he was being called to the dean’s office.
“It’s Jonas, actually. Dan calls me Jones…” because he doesn’t know my name, after living with me for months.
Dan’s mom gave him a hug, and Jonas began to cry. Then Dan’s mom started to cry. Then Dan’s dad said, “I’ll get some tea,” and scurried away from all the emotion.
Xxx
Dan had two more seizures in the hospital before he was released to a rehab facility. Jonas went to visit him and they talked about everything except for where they were and why. Dan had never talked to Jonas about wanting to be sober, and he probably had his reasons. Dan looked horrible, but his eyes were clear and his speech un-slurred. He brought his notebook with him and sometimes wrote notes as they talked. When Jonas asked what he was writing, Dan frowned, made a few inarticulate noises, and then hid the notebook under the table. Jonas took it as a sign to stop asking.
He was then surprised to find Dan’s mother sitting in the waiting room reading the notebook. She looked deep in thought and Jonas hesitated to approach her, but the room was small and it seemed a bit ridiculous not to acknowledge her presence.
“All right, Mrs. A?”
She jumped and swiped at the tears forming in her eyes. Jonas hadn’t realized she was crying, she’d looked so calm.
“Oh, Jonas,” she said in a voice strangled with emotion. She hugged him tightly and Jonas suddenly felt guilty for having sex with her son. She seemed to be under the impression they were a couple. Jonas never corrected her, because he wasn’t sure how to explain how he and Dan coexisted. On the surface, they were a picture of domesticity. They shared a bed and meals. Dan helped Jonas record and mail his demos. They had a shared datebook with their respective schedules. It was just like being in a relationship, except they never talked about anything but the most shallow of subjects. They were acquaintances sharing a life.
“It’s so… Oh, Jonas. Please, call me Elaine. Sit down, sit down,” Elaine said, physically pulling herself together. “It’s just hard to read some of this, I’m sure you know…”
“I’ve never seen what’s in there,” Jonas admitted. “I ask about his sometimes…”
Elaine fidgeted, suddenly looking very much like a sober Dan.
“He asked me to look it over, as a writer. He has an offer for a book, and he wanted my suggestions on…” Elaine dissolved into tears. Jonas put his arms around her, feeling her soft, Dan-like hair against his cheek.
“S’all right, Mrs. A. Dan trusts you a lot. He says you’re well smart.”
“Not that smart,” Elaine sniffed. “Not smart enough to see what was in front of my eyes.”
“When Dan wants to keep a secret, there’s nothing you can do,” Jonas explained. “He just buries things so deep, there’s nothing to see.”
“He drowns it,” Elaine said softly. “It’s my side of the family. So many drinkers.”
“Glad he’s here, though,” Jonas offered, trying to be positive. “It’s a big step for him. He finally cares about himself a little.”
Elaine smiled and touched the side of Jonas’s face, stroking his cheek.
“You’ve been such a big part of this. I’m so glad he found you.”
Jonas didn’t want to argue with Dan’s mom. If it made her feel better to think Jonas was the wind beneath Dan’s wings, there didn’t seem to be a reason to argue.
“I’m glad I found him,” Jonas said, suppressing the ‘again’ that belonged in the sentence.
“It’s going to be a damn good book,” Elaine added with a rueful smile. “He’s got a voice. It’s a bitter, sad, and self-indulgent voice, but…”
“It’s fucking cool.” Jonas finished the thought for her. He felt bad swearing in front of Dan’s mum, but she had sworn first.
“Dan’s father and I are happy to help Dan in any way we can,” she said, holding up the notebook. “Despite anything he might say… We are so proud of our boy, and so glad…”
Jonas held Elaine as she cried. He wondered what kind of horrible things Dan had written and then handed to his mother, like she was a detached editor. Jonas could almost see Dan’s thoughts and how he thought so little of himself that he believed his mother would be unaffected by whatever it was he had to say, that her much-admired intellect would protect her from motherly worry. Dan couldn’t understand how much his parents loved him or how little they cared about his mistakes and flaws. He was their baby and now their only precious child.
“He said it was turning thirty-five last month that started him thinking…”
“Dan had a birthday last month?” Jonas asked, before thinking about how it would sound to Dan’s mum.
Elaine laughed. “That’s my Dan. Yes, he just turned thirty-five, and he thought it was time.”
“Time to write?” Jonas asked.
“Time to grow up.”
Xxx
Jonas went with Dan’s parents, who wanted to be called Tom and Elaine but Jonas couldn’t stomach it, to pick Dan up on his last day. Jonas felt like a child, strapped in the back seat. Elaine treated Jonas like a son-in-law, while Tom looked at him like he was an alien - but not in an unkind way. When Elaine went inside to get Dan, Tom and Jonas instinctively wandered to the designated smoking area.
“So… You work with Dan?” Tom said to his own shoes.
“I used to, but I’ve been working as a DJ… Steady gigs, steady pay and all. Dan was a big help with that.”
Jonas was not accustomed to worrying about other people’s opinions or trying to sound ‘normal.’ In his world, being a DJ was normal, and inspiring dislike in a buttoned-up Northern business type middle-aged man was a plus.
But Jonas wanted Dan’s parents to like him.
Tom nodded and lit up a cigarette. Jonas nearly took the fag Tom offered him, just to have something to do with his hands, but he had a tendency to cough until he puked when he smoked cigarettes, and that seemed a sure way to not make a good impression.
“Good he’s writing again,” Tom observed. He appeared to be talking to his cigarette, but Jonas responded anyway.
“Yeah. He’s well talented.”
Tom smiled. “Well talented. Just like his mother.”
Jonas was saved from more scintillating conversation by Dan and Elaine. Dan looked healthy for the first time since… Jonas had never seen Dan looking healthy. His father grumbled at Dan for lighting and smoking two fags at a time, but Jonas could tell he was equally surprised by Dan’s appearance.
“You look great,” Jonas observed, gently patting Dan on the arm. Dan gave him a quick, one-armed hug and said, “Cheers.” It was the most physically demonstrative Dan had ever been with Jonas in public, and Jonas felt suddenly shy.
“Let’s get something to eat,” Elaine suggested, in a forced cheery voice. “What would you like Dan? Jonas?”
“Jones,” Dan corrected her.
“It’s Jonas,” Elaine snapped. “For chrissake, Dan.”
Dan shot Jonas a questioning look.
“Everyone calls me Jones,” Jonas explained as he climbed into the back of the car. It was true enough; he’d been going by Jones since his first tryst with Dan.
“Are you called Jonas Jones?” Dan asked, clearly not reading the atmosphere of the car. Dan was as oblivious as ever. Apparently that couldn’t be blamed on the drink.
“It’s Jonas Smith,” Jonas whispered, knowing it was silly but unable to stop himself.
“Daniel Percival Ashcroft!” Elaine yelled. “What is wrong with you?”
“You just picked me up from rehab. Is that a real question?” Dan pointed out. Jonas prepared himself to see Dan getting yelled at by his mother, but Dan’s father broke the tension by laughing out loud.
Elaine turned her wrath to Tom, who was wiping tears from his eyes, and Dan put his hand over Jonas’s. Jonas was again hit with the feeling that he was misbehaving, but he wouldn’t have pulled his hand away for all the free takeaway in the world.
Xxx
Dan had a plan for being sober. Boredom was the enemy of sobriety, so he structured his days. He picked up extra shifts at the shop, and he set alarms for when he would write. His mother had given him her “old” laptop that was clearly almost new. He wrote and he worked and he cleaned and he had sex with Jonas “Jones” Smith. Lots and lots and lots of sex. He usually greeted Jones at the door half-hard. After a few days, Jonas started coming home horny, admitting he was properly trained in the Pavlonian manner.
Dan had started drinking pretty heavily at university, so being sober day and night was an utterly alien experience. He thought about drinking all the time. There wasn’t a thing on the planet he didn’t somehow associate with being drunk.
And being sober was total shite. Dan felt old and sad and useless. He’d never felt closer to dying than when he was detoxing, and he’d been told repeatedly that he’d come pretty close a few times. That his body nearly shut down because he’d given up booze seemed like a sign from a higher power to keep drinking. That thought helped Dan to stay sober. If there was one thing that Dan liked about himself, it was that he was relentlessly difficult to like. If some god wanted to love Dan unconditionally, Dan was going to put that love to the test.
But Dan didn’t believe in a higher power. Sometimes, he thought it was possible, but there wasn’t room in his world for fantasies of loving creators and protectors. If there was a god, he was surely as disappointed in Dan as his earthly makers. The only thing Dan had done in the past eight years to make his parents happy was get sober and have sex with Jones.
Jonas.
In one of the many, many, many groups Dan had attended in rehab, he’d been asked to talk about why he wanted to be sober. Other people talked about their goals, their wants, their dreams, but all Dan could think of was, “I’m tired of being that guy.”
Maybe it was shallow, but it was true. Dan was tired of being defined by his addiction. There was no rock bottom for Dan, because he’d been an utter fuck-up from the beginning, but Dan had hit a wall. He had managed to carve out a little patch of normality, and it was just enough to make him hate what his life had become. It had been easier on the streets, with no one to answer to.
Jones never asked about his drinking; he just kept looking happy to see Dan like a dog who didn’t know his master was a fuckwad. If Jones had a tail, it would have always wagged at the sight of Dan Ashcroft. Both his parents had made it clear they felt very strongly that Dan needed to hang on to Jones. His father had encouraged him to buy Jones things and give him lots of compliments. Nearly forty years of being married to an accomplished author of feminist literature, and that was the best Tom could understand relationships.
Dan was glad he could tell his father about the DJ setup. It was ridiculous, but for a moment, his father looked not quite proud, but considerably less disappointed in his only living spawn.
So Dan wrote, and every night he sent his work to his mother on the pretense that she would give him professional feedback. Really, it was just a way of holding Dan accountable. His mother often gave excellent and insightful feedback. Other times he just got a call from his dad asking why he kept making his mother cry.
Dan had recently published, for pay, a feature article in Sugar Ape called “Rise of the Idiots.” It was a one-off deal, and Jonatton had paid him very, very well. Dan, in turn, paid for Jonas to record some professional-quality demos. The demos had led to Jonas landing an especially sweet regular gig, DJing at Stanley Knives. It was one of the trendiest places in Shoreditch and boasted some major movers and shakers as regular customers. Jonas had no idea who came in during his shifts, because when he was in his music, he was in his music and oblivious to all else, but he’d started getting business cards. He had to give up Sweet Pipes, because he was gigging days and nights, and his evenings were spent either in bed with Dan or sending out demos. Sometimes one, then the other.
When Dan started getting the DTs, Jonas worried about leaving him alone, but Dan resisted any doting. Dan was working a shift at Sweet Pipes when he had his first seizure.
Jonas was sleeping in the waiting room when a pair of Northern accents startled him awake.
He’d seen Dan’s parents from a distance the night Claire had been in the accident, but it was strange to see them up close. Dan had his father’s height and build, but his hair and eyes clearly came from his mother. Watching them interacting with the staff, Jonas could see Dan’s spiky shyness in his father and his opinionated verbosity in his mother. It was interesting to watch the couple work effectively as a team to get their questions answered and their needs met, while Dan usually struggled so ineffectively to balance his strong personality with a desire not to draw too much attention to himself.
“Jones?”
Jonas jumped, feeling oddly guilty. He dearly hoped she had no idea what he’d got up to with Dan in the men’s room nearly eight years ago. It was clear where Claire had gotten her ‘feisty’ personality. Jonas felt like he was being called to the dean’s office.
“It’s Jonas, actually. Dan calls me Jones…” because he doesn’t know my name, after living with me for months.
Dan’s mom gave him a hug, and Jonas began to cry. Then Dan’s mom started to cry. Then Dan’s dad said, “I’ll get some tea,” and scurried away from all the emotion.
Xxx
Dan had two more seizures in the hospital before he was released to a rehab facility. Jonas went to visit him and they talked about everything except for where they were and why. Dan had never talked to Jonas about wanting to be sober, and he probably had his reasons. Dan looked horrible, but his eyes were clear and his speech un-slurred. He brought his notebook with him and sometimes wrote notes as they talked. When Jonas asked what he was writing, Dan frowned, made a few inarticulate noises, and then hid the notebook under the table. Jonas took it as a sign to stop asking.
He was then surprised to find Dan’s mother sitting in the waiting room reading the notebook. She looked deep in thought and Jonas hesitated to approach her, but the room was small and it seemed a bit ridiculous not to acknowledge her presence.
“All right, Mrs. A?”
She jumped and swiped at the tears forming in her eyes. Jonas hadn’t realized she was crying, she’d looked so calm.
“Oh, Jonas,” she said in a voice strangled with emotion. She hugged him tightly and Jonas suddenly felt guilty for having sex with her son. She seemed to be under the impression they were a couple. Jonas never corrected her, because he wasn’t sure how to explain how he and Dan coexisted. On the surface, they were a picture of domesticity. They shared a bed and meals. Dan helped Jonas record and mail his demos. They had a shared datebook with their respective schedules. It was just like being in a relationship, except they never talked about anything but the most shallow of subjects. They were acquaintances sharing a life.
“It’s so… Oh, Jonas. Please, call me Elaine. Sit down, sit down,” Elaine said, physically pulling herself together. “It’s just hard to read some of this, I’m sure you know…”
“I’ve never seen what’s in there,” Jonas admitted. “I ask about his sometimes…”
Elaine fidgeted, suddenly looking very much like a sober Dan.
“He asked me to look it over, as a writer. He has an offer for a book, and he wanted my suggestions on…” Elaine dissolved into tears. Jonas put his arms around her, feeling her soft, Dan-like hair against his cheek.
“S’all right, Mrs. A. Dan trusts you a lot. He says you’re well smart.”
“Not that smart,” Elaine sniffed. “Not smart enough to see what was in front of my eyes.”
“When Dan wants to keep a secret, there’s nothing you can do,” Jonas explained. “He just buries things so deep, there’s nothing to see.”
“He drowns it,” Elaine said softly. “It’s my side of the family. So many drinkers.”
“Glad he’s here, though,” Jonas offered, trying to be positive. “It’s a big step for him. He finally cares about himself a little.”
Elaine smiled and touched the side of Jonas’s face, stroking his cheek.
“You’ve been such a big part of this. I’m so glad he found you.”
Jonas didn’t want to argue with Dan’s mom. If it made her feel better to think Jonas was the wind beneath Dan’s wings, there didn’t seem to be a reason to argue.
“I’m glad I found him,” Jonas said, suppressing the ‘again’ that belonged in the sentence.
“It’s going to be a damn good book,” Elaine added with a rueful smile. “He’s got a voice. It’s a bitter, sad, and self-indulgent voice, but…”
“It’s fucking cool.” Jonas finished the thought for her. He felt bad swearing in front of Dan’s mum, but she had sworn first.
“Dan’s father and I are happy to help Dan in any way we can,” she said, holding up the notebook. “Despite anything he might say… We are so proud of our boy, and so glad…”
Jonas held Elaine as she cried. He wondered what kind of horrible things Dan had written and then handed to his mother, like she was a detached editor. Jonas could almost see Dan’s thoughts and how he thought so little of himself that he believed his mother would be unaffected by whatever it was he had to say, that her much-admired intellect would protect her from motherly worry. Dan couldn’t understand how much his parents loved him or how little they cared about his mistakes and flaws. He was their baby and now their only precious child.
“He said it was turning thirty-five last month that started him thinking…”
“Dan had a birthday last month?” Jonas asked, before thinking about how it would sound to Dan’s mum.
Elaine laughed. “That’s my Dan. Yes, he just turned thirty-five, and he thought it was time.”
“Time to write?” Jonas asked.
“Time to grow up.”
Xxx
Jonas went with Dan’s parents, who wanted to be called Tom and Elaine but Jonas couldn’t stomach it, to pick Dan up on his last day. Jonas felt like a child, strapped in the back seat. Elaine treated Jonas like a son-in-law, while Tom looked at him like he was an alien - but not in an unkind way. When Elaine went inside to get Dan, Tom and Jonas instinctively wandered to the designated smoking area.
“So… You work with Dan?” Tom said to his own shoes.
“I used to, but I’ve been working as a DJ… Steady gigs, steady pay and all. Dan was a big help with that.”
Jonas was not accustomed to worrying about other people’s opinions or trying to sound ‘normal.’ In his world, being a DJ was normal, and inspiring dislike in a buttoned-up Northern business type middle-aged man was a plus.
But Jonas wanted Dan’s parents to like him.
Tom nodded and lit up a cigarette. Jonas nearly took the fag Tom offered him, just to have something to do with his hands, but he had a tendency to cough until he puked when he smoked cigarettes, and that seemed a sure way to not make a good impression.
“Good he’s writing again,” Tom observed. He appeared to be talking to his cigarette, but Jonas responded anyway.
“Yeah. He’s well talented.”
Tom smiled. “Well talented. Just like his mother.”
Jonas was saved from more scintillating conversation by Dan and Elaine. Dan looked healthy for the first time since… Jonas had never seen Dan looking healthy. His father grumbled at Dan for lighting and smoking two fags at a time, but Jonas could tell he was equally surprised by Dan’s appearance.
“You look great,” Jonas observed, gently patting Dan on the arm. Dan gave him a quick, one-armed hug and said, “Cheers.” It was the most physically demonstrative Dan had ever been with Jonas in public, and Jonas felt suddenly shy.
“Let’s get something to eat,” Elaine suggested, in a forced cheery voice. “What would you like Dan? Jonas?”
“Jones,” Dan corrected her.
“It’s Jonas,” Elaine snapped. “For chrissake, Dan.”
Dan shot Jonas a questioning look.
“Everyone calls me Jones,” Jonas explained as he climbed into the back of the car. It was true enough; he’d been going by Jones since his first tryst with Dan.
“Are you called Jonas Jones?” Dan asked, clearly not reading the atmosphere of the car. Dan was as oblivious as ever. Apparently that couldn’t be blamed on the drink.
“It’s Jonas Smith,” Jonas whispered, knowing it was silly but unable to stop himself.
“Daniel Percival Ashcroft!” Elaine yelled. “What is wrong with you?”
“You just picked me up from rehab. Is that a real question?” Dan pointed out. Jonas prepared himself to see Dan getting yelled at by his mother, but Dan’s father broke the tension by laughing out loud.
Elaine turned her wrath to Tom, who was wiping tears from his eyes, and Dan put his hand over Jonas’s. Jonas was again hit with the feeling that he was misbehaving, but he wouldn’t have pulled his hand away for all the free takeaway in the world.
Xxx
Dan had a plan for being sober. Boredom was the enemy of sobriety, so he structured his days. He picked up extra shifts at the shop, and he set alarms for when he would write. His mother had given him her “old” laptop that was clearly almost new. He wrote and he worked and he cleaned and he had sex with Jonas “Jones” Smith. Lots and lots and lots of sex. He usually greeted Jones at the door half-hard. After a few days, Jonas started coming home horny, admitting he was properly trained in the Pavlonian manner.
Dan had started drinking pretty heavily at university, so being sober day and night was an utterly alien experience. He thought about drinking all the time. There wasn’t a thing on the planet he didn’t somehow associate with being drunk.
And being sober was total shite. Dan felt old and sad and useless. He’d never felt closer to dying than when he was detoxing, and he’d been told repeatedly that he’d come pretty close a few times. That his body nearly shut down because he’d given up booze seemed like a sign from a higher power to keep drinking. That thought helped Dan to stay sober. If there was one thing that Dan liked about himself, it was that he was relentlessly difficult to like. If some god wanted to love Dan unconditionally, Dan was going to put that love to the test.
But Dan didn’t believe in a higher power. Sometimes, he thought it was possible, but there wasn’t room in his world for fantasies of loving creators and protectors. If there was a god, he was surely as disappointed in Dan as his earthly makers. The only thing Dan had done in the past eight years to make his parents happy was get sober and have sex with Jones.
Jonas.
In one of the many, many, many groups Dan had attended in rehab, he’d been asked to talk about why he wanted to be sober. Other people talked about their goals, their wants, their dreams, but all Dan could think of was, “I’m tired of being that guy.”
Maybe it was shallow, but it was true. Dan was tired of being defined by his addiction. There was no rock bottom for Dan, because he’d been an utter fuck-up from the beginning, but Dan had hit a wall. He had managed to carve out a little patch of normality, and it was just enough to make him hate what his life had become. It had been easier on the streets, with no one to answer to.
Jones never asked about his drinking; he just kept looking happy to see Dan like a dog who didn’t know his master was a fuckwad. If Jones had a tail, it would have always wagged at the sight of Dan Ashcroft. Both his parents had made it clear they felt very strongly that Dan needed to hang on to Jones. His father had encouraged him to buy Jones things and give him lots of compliments. Nearly forty years of being married to an accomplished author of feminist literature, and that was the best Tom could understand relationships.
Dan was glad he could tell his father about the DJ setup. It was ridiculous, but for a moment, his father looked not quite proud, but considerably less disappointed in his only living spawn.
So Dan wrote, and every night he sent his work to his mother on the pretense that she would give him professional feedback. Really, it was just a way of holding Dan accountable. His mother often gave excellent and insightful feedback. Other times he just got a call from his dad asking why he kept making his mother cry.