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I eyed the half-empty box on the counter and shot Mom a cold look. If she noticed, she didn’t let on as she came to us.
“We wondered when you’d be home.” The smell of alcohol filled the air. She’d promised. She’d fucking promised not to drink around Eli.
My body shook with anger as I scooped up Eli. “Hey, buddy.” I moved farther into the living portion of the room. “Shall we see if Mellie’s in? Maybe you could go and play with Deacon.”
Deacon, Mellie’s grandson, stayed over on the weekends. He was a couple of years older than Eli, but as long as cars or trucks or superhero pups were involved, they usually played well together.
“Evan, I wanted us to spend the evening together as a family.” Mom hiccoughed, and I glared at her.
“Eli wants to play over at Mellie’s. Right, E?”
He cheered and said, “Can I, Mom? Pleeease?”
“Oh, okay, baby, but come home soon so I can tuck you in, yeah?”
More cheers filled the room, and I dug my cell phone out my pocket dialing Mellie. She said to bring him right over. She knew the drill by now because I always tried to get Eli out of the house when Mom was drunk. If it came to it, she’d keep him overnight.
“Let’s go, buddy.”
I ignored Mom’s look of disapproval as we left and headed next door. Mellie was waiting.
“Eli, Deacon is inside, and he can’t wait to see you.” She patted his head as he disappeared inside.
“Thank you,” I said. “She’s okay, but I don’t want him around when she’s like this.”
“I know, Evan, and you know I’m always here, but maybe it’s time to—”
“I have to get back.” I couldn’t meet her eyes. “Thanks again. I’ll come by for him in a bit, okay?”
Mellie let out a resigned sigh. “Sure, of course.”
Jogging back to the house, I braced myself for the shitstorm headed my way. It was quiet, too quiet, as I closed the door behind me and made my way through the house.
“He’s not your son.” The venom in her words stung. But I was more angry at the bottle in her hand.
“You’re right. He isn’t. He’s my little brother who doesn’t understand why his mom isn’t around to tuck him in or take him to pre-K or read books to him and play games.”
“He isn’t four yet.” Doubt crossed her face.
“I’m surprised you can remember.”
She slammed her hand down on the table. “How dare you disrespect me like that. I am your mother.”
“You haven’t been my mother for a long time, but that kid still needs his mom. He needs you to get clean andbe his mom.” I swallowed the lump in my throat while Mom watched me, her eyes glazed over from the effects of the vodka or whatever it was in the bottle she was clutching like it was her lifeline.
“I won’t let you take him away from me.”
My head tipped back, and I raked a hand over my face. Jesus. Didn’t she see what was staring her right in the face? I wasn’t the enemy.
“It’s not me you need to worry about, Mom.”
“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You know exactly what it means.”
“Your aunt and uncle have done nothing but help us.”
A bitter laugh spilled out. “Help us?” More like help fuel her addiction. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
