Authors: Claire Adams
Finally, she broke
the connection as she turned and opened her office door. I nodded and moved
past her, slightly brushing against her as I made my exit. I was two steps out
the door when I turned and ran right into her.
"Oof!"
she cried as my hand hit her midsection causing her to double over. "What
did you do that for?"
"Payback for
the bloody nose," I grinned as I put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you
okay?"
"Yeah, fine
now that the score is even, you big oaf!" she laughed as she stood up and
tried to take a deep breath. "Damn, you hit hard!"
"Sorry, I
really didn't mean to," I said, trying to look properly chastised. Leah
burst out laughing, and the sound made me want to wrap my arms around her waist
and pull her off the ground.
"What did you
want to say?" she asked as I stood silently, staring at her.
"Oh, just
that I really do want to keep this company running smoothly," I said.
"I'm not trying to be the Big Bad Wolf."
"All right,
well, I'll take you at your word and try not to treat you like the enemy,"
she said with a small smile that made me want to kiss her even more than I had
when I first walked down to the warehouse.
"I'd
appreciate that," I nodded as I fought back the urge, and turned and
walked away.
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
It
wasn't until Jack was safely out of view that I finally exhaled. Being that
close to him put all of my senses on high alert and made it incredibly
difficult to focus on anything but how much I wanted to feel his arms around me
again.
"What are
you, some kind of silly high school girl?" I muttered to myself as I
walked back into my office and sat down in front of the computer.
I punched the keyboard as I continued
chastising myself, "Quit being an idiot! Whatever happened was obviously a
mistake, and he has zero interest in you. Stop acting like a lovesick teenager.
Ridiculous!"
"What's
ridiculous?" Burt asked as he tapped on my door. "You okay,
Leah?"
"Yeah, I'm
fine, just thinking out loud," I said turning to face him. I was
immediately alarmed by how pale Burt looked. "Are you okay?"
"I think I
ate something bad at lunch," he said waving me off. "I'll be fine
with a little Pepto and rest."
"Are you
sure?" I asked eyeing him warily. Burt was one of the best warehouse guys,
and I couldn't afford to have him out sick right now. "We need you,
man."
"I know, I
know," he grinned as he kept one arm wrapped around his midsection.
"I'm going to cut out a little early and go to Urgent Care just to make
sure."
"Go,
go!" I said waving him away. "And call me to let me know if you're
okay or if we need to start collecting for Gloria's widow fund!"
"Ha, ha, very
funny," Burt said rolling his eyes. "I'm fine. I'll be in tomorrow
morning."
"Take care of
yourself, Burt," I said seriously. "We really do need you. Jack's got
plans for upgrading the warehouse, and I can't afford to lose even one of you
guys when they start this crazy renovation."
"I'm going to
be here, boss," Burt assured me yet again. "No worries!"
I sat at my desk
for a long time, thinking about all the changes that had happened and all the
ones that were about to follow it. I didn't like the fact that we were being
run by someone who had no idea how the business had been run, nor did he seem
to care about the traditions we held dear. He was intent on turning the
business into a competitor with all the other online baby product suppliers,
and I had some serious doubts about whether his plan would work.
"A hundred
thousand products?" I said, shaking my head as I powered off my computer
and began packing up to go home. Riley would be waiting for me to make dinner,
if my mother hadn't already hauled her down to the bodega and stuffed her full
of junk. That reminded me: I needed to pick up chicken and tortillas for
dinner, and stop by Gordy's for the dry cleaning. I sighed as I ran a hand
through my hair and wished that I didn't have to do all of this alone.
"Dammit,
Molly, where are you?" I whispered as I grabbed my things and headed to
the train.
*
By
the time I got home, it was almost dark, and Riley was waiting for me on the
front steps. I waved at her as I came up the walk, but she didn't smile.
"What's up,
buttercup?" I asked as I climbed the stairs and looked down at her.
"Gram is
really sick, Leah," Riley said as she picked at her right hand.
"She's been lying on the couch all afternoon and she won't talk to me
anymore."
"What? She
what?" I said, suddenly feeling sick in the pit of my stomach. I turned
and went into the house calling, "Mama? Mama! Talk to me, Mama!"
My mother was
lying on the couch with one arm draped over her forehead and the other across
her stomach. I couldn't tell if she was breathing. I dropped the grocery bags
and ran to her side, shaking her as I called her name again and again. When she
didn't respond, I shook her harder.
"Mama! Mama!
WAKE UP!" I shouted into her ear. That got a slight response, so I kept
yelling until she somehow pushed her way out of her drunken stupor and opened
her eyes.
"Why the fuck
are you screaming in my ear?" she mumbled in a drunken voice that I
recognized as having had way too much vodka in entirely too short a time
period. "Knock it off, Leah. You're being a nag."
"Mama, you
scared Riley and me half to death," I said in a calm voice. "You
cannot keep doing this."
"It's my
house. I can do whatever the hell I please," she replied as she covered
her eyes again and shifted slightly to keep me out of her view. "Back off,
girl. I don't need your nagging."
"This isn't
healthy, Mama," I pleaded. "Your drinking is out of control. You need
help."
Out of nowhere, my
mother's hand rose up and smacked me so hard I lost my balance and fell
backward onto the living room floor. I cried out as my head knocked against the
coffee table, and my mother turned slightly and eyed me before saying,
"That'll teach you to get all high and mighty with your mother. It's my
goddamn house, and I'll do what I like in it. Do you understand?"
"Yes,
Mama," I said, rubbing the back of my head as I scooted far enough away to
be out of her reach. "But you need help."
"Fuck you,
Leah," she said. "If you don't like it, there's the door. Don't let
it hit you on the ass on the way out."
I picked up the
grocery bags and walked to the kitchen where Riley sat with her back against
the wall, staring out the window.
"She has a
serious problem," she observed. "She really needs to get some help
for it."
"Indeed she
does, but there's no way we can make her do something she doesn't want to
do," I said as I unpacked the groceries and prepared to make dinner. For a
moment, I leaned against the counter and wondered how we'd gotten to this point
and why it was so hard to change things.
"What are we
going to do, Leah?" Riley asked as she stopped picking at her hand and
looked up at me with a worried expression. The creases in her forehead were far
too deep for someone so young, but she'd been forced to grow up more quickly
than most kids her age.
"I don't
know, Riley," I sighed as I stood up and continued unpacking the bags.
"She really needs help, but I can't force her to do anything. I talked to
Patrick last night. I'm hoping that he'll show up and talk some sense into
her."
"Uncle
Patrick's coming over?" Riley said, perking up.
"Father
Patrick," I replied.
"Oh, right,
Father Patrick," she repeated, rolling her eyes the way only a
twelve-year-old could. "When is he coming, Leah?"
"He said I'm
supposed to bring her to Mass, and he'll take care of the rest," I said.
"But I can't see how we're going to get her to Mass like this."
"Tell her she
doesn't have a choice," Riley said in a sullen tone. "Like you do
with me."
"That's not
fair, and you know it," I said.
"I love how
adults always say that, but when kids do it, then it's always something about
how life's not fair," she said. "Leah, I'm sick and tired of her
always doing something to ruin things. I can't have friends over because it's
embarrassing. And you never go anywhere or do anything, either."
"That's
because I'm busy with work, young lady," I said trying to keep my voice
from cracking.
I didn't want her to know
how right she actually was.
"Oh,
bullshit, Leah," she shot back as she slapped the table. "All of this
is such bullshit!"
"Riley! You
are not to use that kind of language in this house!" I yelled as I turned
and looked at her. "I know this is hard. I know Gram isn't easy to deal
with, but we're all doing the best we can, okay?"
"Bullshit,"
she said as she got up and walked across the kitchen. She stood face to face
with me, and my heart cracked a little as I realized how much she looked like
her mother at that age.
"Riley,
please," I said, shaking my head. I didn't want to have this conversation
with her.
"This family
is so incredibly screwed up, it's not even funny, Leah," she began as she
crossed her arms over her chest and stared at me. "I'm sick and tired of
all the secrets and lies and all the bullshit that goes on as we try to cover
up all of the terrible things that have happened. Why did my mother leave? Why
is Gram drinking herself to death? Why are you the one stuck taking care of us
all?"
"Because
that's what family does, Riley!" I shouted. "We take care of each
other! We look out for each other!"
"Right,"
she scoffed as she turned away. "Like everyone else is looking out for us?
Is that what you're saying?"
"Sometimes
you have to shoulder the burden until it's someone else's turn, Riley," I
said. "Not everything is equal."
"Oh, I
know," she said as she walked out the kitchen door. "Believe me, I
know."
As I cooked
dinner, I turned the problem over in my head and felt guilty that Riley had a
better understanding of the problem than I did, or at least she was the one who
was facing it head on. I should have mapped out a plan, but the truth was that
I was just too damn tired after dealing with all of the changes at work; and I
didn't have anything left when I got home. I'd been taking care of everything
for the past three years, and I was running on empty.
The guilt and
shame washed over me as I thought about all of the things I should be doing. I
should be looking for Molly. I should be taking better care of Mama. I should
be letting Riley be a kid. Should. Should. Should.
"I can't do
this all by myself, dammit." I muttered as I stirred the meat in the pan
and warmed tortillas. "I need help."
A half an hour
later, I called Riley to the table for supper, and she came in, dragging Mama
behind her.
"Where's my
drink?" she muttered as she pulled up a chair and sat down. "I want
my drink!"
I shoved a glass
of tea at her and watched as she drank it down without stopping. I refilled the
glass and put a plate in front of her. She definitely looked and acted more
with it than she had when I'd arrived home, so I thought I'd take a chance.
"Mama,
Patrick asked us to come to Mass," I said trying to sound like this was an
everyday occurrence.
"Who?"
she replied as she wrinkled her nose and picked at the food on her plate.
"Patrick,"
I repeated. "Father Patrick, your son?"
"I don't have
a son," she said in a flat voice. "I had two daughters, but one ran
off with a good for nothing loser and left me with you. And why the hell would
I want to go to church? What good would it do me?"
"Patrick is
your son. He went into the seminary," I said trying to jog her memory. I
knew that the alcohol had wreaked havoc on her brain, but part of me wondered
if she wasn't just being stubborn. "He's a priest over at Queen of Peace
Parish. You used to love going to Mass when we were growing up. You were proud
of Patrick when he joined the priesthood, Mama."
"I don't have
a son," she said stubbornly before shoving her mouth full of burrito and
chewing loudly. I shrugged and shook my head as she added, "And I
definitely don't need a damn church telling me what to do."
Mama ate little
more than a few bites of food, and halfway through the meal, she fell asleep,
leaning on the wall next to the table. I shook her gently, but she was out.
"How did you
get her up?" I asked.
"I told her
that there was vodka at the table," Riley said grimly. "She got right
up and headed in."
"This has to
stop," I said, shaking my head as I stood up. I put my mother's arm over
my shoulder and, with Riley's help, managed to get her on her feet and back to
the bedroom.
Later, after all
the dishes had been washed, and I'd packed lunches for the next day, I laid
down on own my bed and tried to summon up the courage to face my mother and
force her to get the help she needed. But all that kept popping up was the
feeling of Jack's strong arms wrapped tightly around me, holding me to his
chest, and the brief whisper of a kiss that we'd shared.
I felt the ache of
longing running from my head to between my legs and surrendered to the fantasy
for a brief time before finally falling into a deep sleep.