With my luck that would be the moment she’d wake up and catch me standing over her.
Ducking my head, I step out of her room, pulling the door shut behind me.
I have places to go and someone important to me who needs me right now. I don’t have time to get caught up in the thoughts and feelings swirling around in my head. The drive over to my mom’s leaves me with plenty of time to stew over them, though.
Parking in front of the small blue house, I spot my mom’s broken-down Saturn. It reminds me of the old rust bucket Ivy drives. I have tried hundreds of times to get her to invest in something more reliable, but she fights me on it at every turn.
Travis steps out onto the front porch stoop, pulling a pack of cigarettes from the pocket on his button-up Miller’s Auto shirt.
“She alright?”
“She’s gonna be, but she needs to get help. I’m talkin’ serious help, B.”
“Fuck, bro. I don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll look into it for you, but I’m talking an inpatient facility. She’s gonna have to go away for a while. This can’t be on you or me to help her fix it. She has to want it, and she’s gonna have to do the work.”
I nod. He’s right. We’ve been trying to help her on our own for far too long. I’m beyond exhausted, and I don’t know where to turn anymore.
I can’t keep being the parent she should’ve been to me growing up. As much as I love her, I miss the mom she was to me before the divorce.
Shouldering past him, I open the screen door and step inside the house. Beer cans litter the coffee table and floor throughout the living room. Empty vodka bottles are lined up in a row on the TV stand as if being displayed like some sort of trophy.
“Brix,” she slurs, holding her hand up to wave at me. “My sweet, handsome son.” Her words come out like they are tied to each other. “I missed you, honey. C’mere.”
She moves to sit up, holding her arms out toward me to give me a hug. Not able to say no to her, I wrap my arms around her. The strong smell of alcohol on her breath is enough to leave me drunk. I squeeze my eyes shut at the sadness that creeps over me witnessing her like this.
When is enough going to be enough?
Pulling back, she gives me a sad smile before she slumps against the couch. Her shirt is pulled up awkwardly, but she’s still so drunk she doesn’t even notice or maybe she doesn’t care.
I grab an empty garbage bag from the kitchen, tossing empty fast food wrappers in the bag as I make my way back into the living room to pick up the stray cans on the floor and table.
“Oh, honey, you don’t have to do that.” She waves her hand at the mess before patting the seat next to her. “Just come sit with me, will ya?”
“Mom, you can’t keep living like this.”
Shoving cans into the bag, I grab the other bag I shoved into my back pocket and start filling it with the empty glass bottles, careful not to let them break as I do.
“Like what?” she asks defensively, her tone growing louder.
“You know what I’m talking about, Mom. Don’t act like you don’t.”
“Why don’t you tell me, Brix? What is the problem?”
“Look at this place!” I yell back, dropping the bag on the floor next to my feet. I hold up my arms in frustration, motioning to the mess scattered around her. “Look at the cans, bottles, fucking cigarette butts. Who the hell wants to live like this? You’re drunk, and it’s not even eight o’clock in the morning. Don’t you see how this could be a problem?”
Rolling her eyes, she shakes her head, like she can’t begin to understand how I could be upset right now.
“I’m sick of worrying whether this is going to be the time where you’ve gone too far. Do you want me to have to come over here and find you dead on that stupid fucking couch? Is that what you want me to have to deal with?”
Tears fill her eyes, and for a second, I wonder if maybe I’ve finally broken through to her.
“Of course, I don’t, Brix. How could you even say that to me?”
“How could I say that? Mom, how could you do this to yourself? How could you choose this life? I’ve been trying to get you help for years. YEARS! What’s it going to take before you finally fucking listen and accept the help?”
“Well, I’m sorry I’m such a burden to you. Okay? I’m sorry you have to deal with me and all my fucking problems. Not all of us can be as happy and perfect as your dear fucking dad.”