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“Watch your language. I’m your mother, you can’t speak to me like that.” She pushed her chair back and stood sloppily, her body like a rag doll.
It used to hurt to see her like this, but I was hardened to it now.
“You’re drunk. Go sleep it off.”
“I will not. I’ll have you know”—she poked her finger in my direction—“I’m going out.”
“Sure you are.”
“Got myself a date.”
“Enjoy your date, Mom. He’s a lucky man.” I couldn’t help myself. She was sick, but she didn’t even try to help herself. I’d tried, and Mellie had tried. Even her doctor tried talking to her once, but it all fell on deaf ears.
Maybe I should have begged her to stay, to sober up and spend time with Eli, but being around her like this was toxic. It sucked me dry and left me bitter.
“Don’t walk away from me, Evan. Don’t you dare…”
But I was already gone. Because a little boy next door needed me. Needed someone to keep him safe and show him the world wasn’t all bad.
And he was the only thing that mattered right now.
* * *
I woke to Eli plastered against me, a line of drool trailing over my t-shirt. It was gross, but when I’d fetched him from Mellie’s and told him Mom had gone out, he’d got upset and asked to sleep with me.
“E, buddy, wake up. I need my arm back.”
“Huh? I’m tired, Ev. Lemme sleeps some more.”
“Roll over, okay?” I helped him move, wiggling my dead arm free.
After tucking him back in, I went to the bathroom and then in search of coffee. The house was quiet, and I soaked it up. Living with a drunk and a toddler, I didn’t often experience silence. It was nice even if it felt unfamiliar.
As the coffeemaker whirred to life, I leaned back against the counter, stretching my arms that were stiff from sharing with my little bed invader.
Mom’s purse was on the table, so at least she was home. I’d heard her stumble through the front door in the middle of the night. Thankfully, there had only been one set of footsteps. She’d gotten a drink and gone straight to bed. Our place was small, and the walls were thin, so there wasn’t much room for privacy, but at least it gave me peace of mind when I heard her arrive home.
When the coffee was ready, I made an extra cup. I was still angry, but I knew she’d need it more than I did. Mom’s room was at the back of the house, separate from our rooms. I knocked and listened for any sign of life.
Nothing.
“Mom, I made coffee.”
Silence.
It wasn’t uncommon for her to be passed out for hours after a heavy night, so I pushed the door ajar and peeked inside. My eyes landed on her bruised face.
“Mom, what the hell?” I rushed to her side and placed the coffee on the nightstand beside her bed.
“Mom? Mom, can you hear me?”
Her face was a mess. Angry and red, she had swelling around her left eye and a split in her bottom lip, dried blood crusted to her skin.
“Mom?”
She murmured. A pained groan seemed lodged in her throat. It wasn’t the first time I’d found her this way, but it hadn’t happened in a while.
“Morning, Mommy!” Eli’s voice said from behind me, and I spun around to find him rubbing his half-closed eyes. I scooped him up, rushed into the living room, and deposited him on the couch.
