Freeing Carter (13 page)

"
There
'
s pizza in the kitchen for you
,
Carter. Sorry I didn
'
t have time to cook.
"
Her voice is tight
,
but normal. Sara
'
s here
,
so of course
it doesn't smell like a bar in here
. Mom
'
s voice doesn
'
t hold a shadow of her drinking voice.

"
Thanks. How
'
d it go?
"

She waves her hand like she doesn
'
t want to talk about it.
"
You know how he is
,
Carter.
"

Which means he was an ass. Surprise
,
surprise.

"
What did he say to you?
"
I remember the first time I heard
Grandpa
call her names. I was six. He wasn
'
t in the nursing home yet.
Grandma
had just died and
she would
go over to his house every day to check on him. Those were the only times I ever remember Mom and Dad fighting—when it came to grandpa. He didn
'
t like her going over alone. He didn
'
t like her going at all
,
but she did anyway.

That day she
'
d told me to wait in the car—which she did a lot
,
but I had to go to the bathroom so bad
,
I couldn
'
t hold it. As soon as I walked in the door
,
I heard it.

"
I don
'
t need your help
,
you bitch. Go away and leave me alone.
"

"
Dad
...
please don
'
t call me names. How much have you had to drink today?
"
At the time
,
I was lucky enough not to know what kind of drink she meant.

"
Oh
,
you
'
re the boss now? You have that fancy husband and you get to come into my house and tell me what to do?
"

"
It
'
s fine
,
Carter. Everything
'
s fine. I just had a long day.
"

No
,
it
'
s not fine at all. It
'
s no wonder where I got my ability to lie from.
"
It
'
s not right.
"
My hands open and close into tight fist
s
.
"
He doesn
'
t deserve you.
"

Her chin quivers and I automatically feel like a jerk. She already has to be upset enough. The last thing she needs is me pushing her about him.

"
Mom
,
I—
"

"
Carter! Carter! Look! Look!
"
Then Sara starts mumbling
,
excitement overtaking her. Sometimes she gets so happy—so ecstatic her words get all jumbled up. She
'
s waving a sheet of paper at me.

"
Slow down
,
Twig. What
'
cha got there?
"
I grab the paper out of her hand. It
'
s a drawing of Barney. Yes
,
Barney the dinosaur
,
but I
'
m there too. It
'
s me playing basketball with a purple dinosaur. I don
'
t know what to say so I keep looking at it. It
'
s perfect. The hair matches mine. You can tell I
'
m dribbling the ball as it floats above the ground. Yes
,
I
'
m being guarded by a purple dinosaur
,
but still.

Mom steps closer
,
close enough I smell her vanilla perfume.
"
Oh my God.
"
Mom
'
s voice shakes.
"
Before you came yesterday
,
I got busy with a customer and Kira sat with Sara. I heard them talking and she asked Sara what her favorite things were and she said Barney and her brother. She did an amazing job on it
,
didn
'
t she?
"

I
'
m embarrassed to admit
,
there
'
s something in my throat keeping me from speaking. I can
'
t stop looking at the picture. I can
'
t stop concentrating on how I feel.
Good.
Good like I haven
'
t felt in a long time. Better than I did at practice. Better than I do with Mel. Which is stupid and makes me feel like sort of a wuss
,
but yeah
...
this girl drew me. Perfectly. And my sister
...
Who knew I ranked up there with the purple dinosaur?

"
Mine!
"
Sara yanks the picture out of my hand and runs away. I
'
m still in a frozen state that I
'
ve never experienced before.

Mom sighs.
"
So much energy. I
'
m never going to get her to bed tonight.
"
She pats my cheek and follows after Sara.

I need air. Need to play ball.

The whole time I
'
m running and jumping and shooting in my driveway
, I
think about
Kira. About Mel and Trav and Trina. I ignore the sweat in my eyes and play harder
,
clearing my head. Maybe Travis is right. I
'
m not feeling it with Mel anymore. I haven
'
t for a while. Being honest
,
I
'
m not sure she has
,
either.

Not saying I like Kira either. Really
,
I don
'
t even know the girl; she
'
s strange compared to other girls I know
,
but I like how she makes me feel. Mel used to help me feel better and now
...
now she makes me feel worse. Plus with Mom
,
Sara
,
basketball
,
and English
,
I have enough on my plate and hate having the gnawing feeling in my gut that Mel
'
s off flirting with other guys. I think it might finally be time to let one of my stress-factors go.

My stomach growls
,
reminding me I didn
'
t eat dinner. Putting my ball under my arm
,
I head back inside. The house is quiet. There are three pieces of pizza on a plate for me. After warming them up
,
I head upstairs. One peek in Sara
'
s room shows me she
'
s asleep
,
the picture of me and Barney in her hand.

Before going to my room
,
I stop by Mom
'
s to tell her goodnight. After a quiet knock
,
I push her door open and freeze. She
'
s coming out of the closet
,
a glass in her hand. A full glass
,
and I know exactly what
'
s in it.

All my muscles pinch. My heart thumps so hard it hurts. Or maybe it
'
s her; maybe she
'
s putting the ache in my chest and not the organ.

Sara
'
s here. My little fucking sister who has nightmares and needs help when she gets up to go to the bathroom is in her room sleeping and Mom
'
s going to drink. It might be because of Grandpa or maybe it
'
s me
,
because I don
'
t keep my mouth shut about him
,
but it doesn
'
t matter. Suddenly I
'
m pissed. So pissed I want to scream at her to stop. Ask her what the hell she
'
s doing. She doesn
'
t drink when Sara
'
s home! That
'
s always been what made it manageable. That
'
s the way things go. The way they
'
ve gone since Bill left and she started to drink. Who said she could switch up the rules?

Her eyes don
'
t leave mine and mine hers. She knows she
'
s been caught. My plate shakes in my hand
,
but I can
'
t speak. What if Sara has one of her nightmares and Mom is drunk? What if Sara needs her and she
'
s too out of it to know? How can she do this? What am I going to do now?

Without a word
,
I turn and walk out of the room. Tossing the plate on my desk
,
I fall into my chair knowing I won
'
t sleep tonight. Knowing I have to listen for her. Sara wouldn
'
t know what
'
s going on if she catches Mom stumbling around
,
but I
'
m her
brother—
I
'
m one of Sara
'
s favorite things and I
'
ll be damned if I
'
ll let her see Mom like that
,
whether she understands or not.

Chapter Six

There are a few clues to look for when you
'
re curious how much someone drank. Now these aren
'
t foolproof
,
but I pay attention to them anyway. They can help judge how the night was
,
how your day
'
s going to be
...
how upset you need to be.

One of them makes my day hell because it calls for a whole lot of caffeine and video games all night to stay awake. How late does the light slide out from the under the other door at night? Does the TV stay on all night or go off at some time? In other words
,
do they pass out or actually
go
to bed. This is a pretty good indicator
,
but let me tell
ya
,
sucks for the school day. Staying up at night
,
watching someone
'
s door
,
isn
'
t high on my list of things I like to do. Been there
,
done that
,
had the messy-morning hair to piss Mel off to show for it.

The other one is how early do they wake up? Late? The last minute before they
'
re going to be late
,
or bright and early
,
whistling at the coffee pot and setting out the Cookie Crunch?

The TV went out last night
...
the light only on for a couple hours after we parted
,
but this morning—this morning she
'
s up late. Hangover or guilt? I
'
m not sure. I
'
ll have to wait until I see her to know.

You can
always
tell how much someone drank the night before by how they wake up. Out of it? Eyes kind of swollen? Sluggish like they didn
'
t get any sleep or they
'
re sick? There are even those times where you can tell the difference in speech. There
'
s still that slight slur that says it hasn
'
t even worn off yet.