Page 74 of Four Letter Feelings

Chapter 29

Chelsea: How is he?

Jeremy: He’s ok, he’s been home for a few hours now. He’s doing all the right things, daily therapy sessions, he’s back on his meds, he’s sleeping, he’s just… quiet.

Chelsea: I’m glad he’s ok, you’re a really good friend, Jer. You stayed so calm, it was impressive.

Jeremy: You were incredible. Can I send you flowers? Chocolate? Anything to say thank you for being there for both of us that night.

Chelsea: I’m not giving you my address, creeper.

She added a winky emoji. Jeremy smiled. It had been a couple of days since the night neither of the men would talk about, and other than a daily ‘How is he?’ followed by a ‘How are you?’ message from Chelsea, she’d given him space to take care of his friend.

Chelsea: How are you holding up?

They’d kept AJ in hospital for observation and assessment for a couple days before allowing him to go home. Between school, hockey and spending time with AJ, Jeremy found himself exhausted. He’d picked up some groceries earlier that morning before collecting AJ from the hospital to bring him home and his plan was to do some batch cooking. He hadn’t cooked in what felt like months and when he actually thought about it, he realized he hadn’t really cooked since Christmas. He was going to fix that today and set the two of them up for an easier life for a few days.

Jeremy: To be honest, I’m exhausted. But I’ll get there. I feel like I’m coming out of a really long sleep, yet I’m still dog-tired. I have to use my brain again, trying to help both myself and AJ find reason and strength to fight is hard.

Chelsea: Depression does that to you. Be gentle with yourself, Jer. He’s not your responsibility either, there are people to help him. Take care of you.

He stopped and re-read the message, wondering to himself if that’s what he’d actually been going through this whole time. Depression. As far as he knew he was firmly in the ‘anger’ stage of his grieving and had depression to ‘look forward’ to.

AJ had gone for a nap and as Jeremy mixed and kneaded dough for a double batch of cinnamon rolls, he gave it some further thought.

She can’t be right, can she? I’m not depressed. There are stages to grief, right? And I haven’t even got beyond feeling pissed that they’re gone. He sighed. Some days it feels like I’ll be angry forever.

But the more he considered the idea that he was depressed, the more things started to make sense.

You know the signs. You did the research for AJ… Pushing everyone away, mood swings, sleeping a lot, not eating, over-eating… shit. She might be right.

While the dough was proving, he made some homemade pasta, and started the tomato sauce base in a large pot on the stove. He was making lasagna, potato and Italian sausage soup and salsa verde shredded chicken for tacos. All things he’d made countless times before and things he knew would freeze well, comfort food that felt like home. He decided to add a batch of bacon mac and cheese to the list while he pulled ingredients out of the fridge and got to work.

He called his therapist as the sauce was simmering, expecting to leave her a message. When she answered, he started to splutter, not really sure what to say.

“Jeremy? Jeremy, is that you?” he heard her say, as he bumbled around the kitchen.

“Yes ma’am, it’s me. Hi, Sheila.”

“It’s been a while. How are you, Jeremy?”

He wasn’t entirely sure how to answer her, but he knew that lying to her wouldn’t help him in the slightest and he’d already spent entirely too long lying to himself.

“I don’t want to keep you, I know you’re busy.”

“You let me handle my schedule, thank you,” she chided softly. “How are you?”

He took a breath and shrugged, knowing she couldn’t see it.

“I haven’t been great,” he answered, truthfully. “It’s been,” he paused and attempted to compose himself, “hard.”

“I imagine that’s an understatement, I saw the news.”

“Do you have a sec? I’m cooking for the first time in months or I’d cross town to see you, but I could really do with a chat. I think I’m ready to come back.”

“I do. I have some time, what are you cooking? I didn’t know you cooked.”

“Yeah,” he smiled sadly. “My mom taught me the basics when I was younger. She’d involve me in everything she made, no matter how messy the kitchen got. As I got older, I developed a curiosity for food, so when I went to Europe and had the opportunity to learn more about food, I took it. I don’t publicize it much 'cause, y’know, it’s not cool to cook.”

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