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“I don’t know, Kins. Running the company is a lot of responsibility. Are you sure you are up for that?”
“I don’t know.”
She laughs. “See? You can’t even honestly answer a simple question. How do you expect to run a huge company where you are going to have to answer, like, a million questions a minute?” She pauses. “I don’t know, Kins. But if I were you, I’d fuck the guy. That’s what I would do. It’s a lot more fun.”
“Thanks, Scar. You’re a real help,” I say sarcastically.
“Kinsley!” my mother screams from downstairs.
“That’s my cue to leave,” Scarlett says.
I nod. “I’ll tell you how it goes later.”
Scarlett quickly hugs me. “I know you are still sad about your dad. And I know you don’t want to deal with everything right now, but I’m always here for you if you need me.”
I nod, and then she slips out of my room.
I grab my purse, so I can get out of here as soon as I deal with my mother. I take the stairs down two at a time and find my mother in the kitchen.
She’s slumped over the bar. She’s not crying, but she doesn’t exactly look her best in my father’s old robe. Her hair is matted on her head. She’s a mess, but at least she left her room.
“Morning, Mom,” I say as I open the pantry to find a granola bar.
“Where’s the alcohol?”
I take a deep breath before answering, “What do you mean?”
“The alcohol that we always keep in the bar. Where is it?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, Mom. I think everybody drank it all after the funeral.” That’s not true. I know exactly where the alcohol is because I’m the one who took it.
It’s been years since my mother relapsed. She’s been sober for almost five years now since I made the biggest mistake of my life that almost destroyed the family.
Dad dying must have pushed her back to the alcohol. I don’t blame her. We all miss Dad. And we all deal with missing him in different ways. I just can’t handle the way she has chosen to deal with his death.
I glance at my phone. Her old therapist and AA sponsor should be here soon to help her since I can’t. I know from experience. I don’t have the patience to help her.
“I need the alcohol, damn it!”
I calmly walk over to my mother. “I’ll make sure to have someone pick you up some alcohol on their way in today. But, right now, I think you need to eat. Can I make you something?”
She grabs the closest vase of flowers and slams it to the floor. I jump at the sound of the glass breaking on the floor. I don’t react to her tantrum. Even though I’ve wanted to do the same thing to the stupid vases of flowers, I can’t show her that it’s okay.
“Hi, Mrs. Felton. Let me make you some breakfast,” Samantha, one of our cooks, says as she enters the kitchen, seeing the mess.
I go over and clean up the glass while Samantha has my mother’s attention.
When I’m finished, I whisper to Samantha, “Just keep an eye on her until Dennis and Kirsten get her. Half hour, max.”
She nods and smiles before going back to cooking my mother some pancakes. I walk out of the kitchen to the front door. I need to move out of here. I don’t know how much more of this I can handle.
“Where are you going?” Granddad asks as I try to leave.
“To the Felton Grand.”
He curiously looks at me even though it’s not that strange for me to go to the casino. I used to go all the time before I went off to college. It should be understandable that I would want to go mourn my father there.
“I’m sorry,” he says as he looks at me. For the first time since the funeral, I see tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry for blaming you. It’s not your fault. I need you to know that.”
