For Us (The Girl I Loved Duet 2)

That’s not the way she speaks. At least it’s not the way she speaks when she’s sober. There’s a knot in my stomach and I turn back to the grocery bags. She said she was going to get tampons and make-up remover, and that she forgot a couple of other toiletries. But that’s not what’s in the bag. What’s in the bag makes me dizzy, sending my mind flying backwards in time to the worst part of my life. In the bag are oranges, goldfish, some cheese sticks, and butterscotch candy. The other bag has a twelve-pack of beer.

Before I can think, I’m striding for the bathroom, making it only seconds before I’m retching over the toilet. Barely anything comes up, but it’s enough. Enough to have me swirling in memories and anger. The urge to empty myself doesn’t go away, my body trying to expel everything that has to do with this. I’m not sure how long it takes.

When I can finally keep myself from heaving, I flush and wash my face. And then I steady myself, because this is not going to be easy or fun. I walk back into the living room. “You’re high?”

“I’m not high,” my mother says dreamily, “I’m just really relaxed.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Mom. We’ve been here before. You don’t think I recognize those groceries? Those are the things you bought every single day before you found whatever local dealer you could and snorted away the rest of the money.” Only Amber knew that the smell of oranges still makes me nauseated.

Mom looks at me, and he eyes are glazed and bloodshot. I’m not sure how I missed it when she was coming up the stairs. “You know, Peter, for being my son you’re way too uptight.”

“Mom—”

“I’m so proud of everything you’re doing, but you need to relax. You’re too young to be so stressed out. You should be more like me. See? I’m not stressed out. I’m haaaaappyyyyyy.”

I feel something inside me snap. “I should be more like you? Really? Thanks mom, but I’ll pass.”

“That’s rude,” she says.

“It’s not rude. Not when I’m sure the rest of the money I gave you to buy the things you needed went to whatever you’re on, and you still don’t have the things you said you needed. I wasn’t lying when I said I forgave you for what you did, but I didn’t say that I was okay with you doing it again. You’re going have to leave. I’m not going to be a flophouse for you to get high. You have a house in Virginia, and if you want to get high, go there.”

“I don’t have a house in Virginia.”

I freeze. “What?”

“They kicked me out. Tony kicked me out. I don’t have a job, or money. Please, you’re my son. Just let me stay. I promise I’ll be good.”

It feels like an entire bucket of ice water has been dumped on my head. She lied. She lied about everything. “So you came here sober just so you would have a place to stay to do this again? I thought you were trying to get your life together. What about the salon?”

She grins at me. “What salon?”

That grin tells me everything I need to know, and I think that I’m going to throw up again. She made it all up. All the funny stories and the people she met. Tony is probably real but I know that she didn’t meet him cutting his hair. She may have even rehearsed what she was going to say to draw me in. “I’m not going to do this, Mom. I’m not going to watch you throw your life.”

She’s suddenly angry, on her feet and in my face, her voice vicious. “You know what? I don’t owe you shit, Peter. I gave birth to you. Without me you wouldn’t be alive, so it’s a little late to be so high and mighty. And you know what else? This is who I am. I’m not gonna change. You want me to change? That’s fucked up.”

I cross my arms and clench my jaw. “I don’t think it’s fucked up for me to want my mother to stay alive.”

But she doesn’t stop, her tirade is at full speed now. “You know who else wanted to change me? Your father. He wanted me to change me so much that he hurt me. He used me and hurt me and then he threw us away. Threw me away. You gonna be like that too? You’re going to throw me away?”

“I would never just throw you away, but I’m not going to let you destroy yourself in my house with my money. I’m happy to have you back in my life. But sober, looking forward. I can’t have you here like this.”

I can’t. It’ll kill me. I’m having a hard time concentrating because of all the memories that are surfacing. All the similarities. All the things I never told anyone, not even Amber. Like how the entire reason I decided to tell Amber’s mom about her condition was because my mother begged me not to call the police while she was overdosing and dying. I was seven. All the times she went out and didn’t come back for hours because she ‘just got carried away’ while she was high and having sex with people.