Unavoidable Confrontations: Day 2

Word Count: 12,021

Summary of Events:

Axel finished working late and had a late supper during which he checked his social media account; in his feed were photos of the girlfriend he'd left in Denmark with an unfamiliar man who, it appeared was her replacement for him. Madeleine made breakfast for Erik, over which she told him about Nellie's call the day before and Erik expressed confidence that Madeleine — and Alina — would be able to participate in the wedding. Axel woke up with a headache and realised he'd gotten drunk the night before; once he'd cleaned up the mess he'd made he went outside for some fresh air and saw his uncle sitting out by the fire pit . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Leaning on the railing, he glanced at Uncle Morten again and this time ended up making eye contact with his uncle, which he’d been hoping not to do. He didn’t feel like talking with his head pounding like this, and Uncle Morten was the sort who always liked to talk.

“You look like you slept in your clothes,” Uncle Morten called across the ten metres from the fire pit to his deck.

He nodded, dropping his gaze to his hands.

“Are you alright Axel?” Uncle Morten asked.

With a reluctant sigh, Axel shook his head, not looking up at first, but when no comment came from Uncle Morten he raised his head to see his uncle heading toward him, his body pitching from side to side somewhat because of the stockiness of his figure.

Like most farmers in the area — from what Axel had seen in a little over four years — Uncle Morten was not really fit. There were other farmers who carried more weight, and whose ability to get into and out of the big equipment they drove baffled Axel, but overall, Axel was the slimmest farm operator he knew.

“Euh, I can smell it from here, how much did you drink Axel?” Uncle Morten asked as he mounted the stairs, which offered a creak of protest to his weight.

“More than I thought,” Axel mumbled.

“Oh, Uncle Morten said, his tone both jovial and disappointed; Axel wasn’t surprised.

He didn’t turn to face Uncle Morten, who eventually placed a hand on the railing.

“What was your meaning of getting drunk Axel?” Uncle Morten asked in that tone that sounded like Father — except in English. “You are needed to drive the silage truck again. You should know better.”

Axel sighed his lungs empty and shook his head. “I didn’t expect to.”

“Well,” Uncle Morten said, the expected finality to his voice. “Then no driving today, just the little jobs.”

Although Axel wanted to groan in disappointment, he didn’t let himself, because he’d known it was coming, and it was what he’d expected anyways.

Uncle Morten was committed to safety, and he had done all the research to determine about how long after drinking a man was really sober; and as a result, it would be unsafe — maybe even illegal — for Axel to drive until he’d done all the little jobs.

There was a disappointed-sounding sigh from Uncle Morten before he walked off the deck without another word and headed back toward the fire pit, where he discarded his cigarette end on his way to the back deck which Axel could only just see, as it was on the far corner of the house; he looked at the kitchen window and wondered if Cheryl was staring disapprovingly out of it at him.