Rock Star Billionaire

"I'm going to be here, boss," Burt assured me yet again. "No worries!"

I sat at my desk for a long time, thinking about all the changes that had happened and all the ones that were about to follow it. I didn't like the fact that we were being run by someone who had no idea how the business had been run, nor did he seem to care about the traditions we held dear. He was intent on turning the business into a competitor with all the other online baby product suppliers, and I had some serious doubts about whether his plan would work.

"A hundred thousand products?" I said, shaking my head as I powered off my computer and began packing up to go home. Riley would be waiting for me to make dinner, if my mother hadn't already hauled her down to the bodega and stuffed her full of junk. That reminded me: I needed to pick up chicken and tortillas for dinner, and stop by Gordy's for the dry cleaning. I sighed as I ran a hand through my hair and wished that I didn't have to do all of this alone.

"Dammit, Molly, where are you?" I whispered as I grabbed my things and headed to the train.

*

By the time I got home, it was almost dark, and Riley was waiting for me on the front steps. I waved at her as I came up the walk, but she didn't smile.

"What's up, buttercup?" I asked as I climbed the stairs and looked down at her.

"Gram is really sick, Leah," Riley said as she picked at her right hand. "She's been lying on the couch all afternoon and she won't talk to me anymore."

"What? She what?" I said, suddenly feeling sick in the pit of my stomach. I turned and went into the house calling, "Mama? Mama! Talk to me, Mama!"

My mother was lying on the couch with one arm draped over her forehead and the other across her stomach. I couldn't tell if she was breathing. I dropped the grocery bags and ran to her side, shaking her as I called her name again and again. When she didn't respond, I shook her harder.

"Mama! Mama! WAKE UP!" I shouted into her ear. That got a slight response, so I kept yelling until she somehow pushed her way out of her drunken stupor and opened her eyes.

"Why the fuck are you screaming in my ear?" she mumbled in a drunken voice that I recognized as having had way too much vodka in entirely too short a time period. "Knock it off, Leah. You're being a nag."

"Mama, you scared Riley and me half to death," I said in a calm voice. "You cannot keep doing this."

"It's my house. I can do whatever the hell I please," she replied as she covered her eyes again and shifted slightly to keep me out of her view. "Back off, girl. I don't need your nagging."

"This isn't healthy, Mama," I pleaded. "Your drinking is out of control. You need help."

Out of nowhere, my mother's hand rose up and smacked me so hard I lost my balance and fell backward onto the living room floor. I cried out as my head knocked against the coffee table, and my mothe

r turned slightly and eyed me before saying, "That'll teach you to get all high and mighty with your mother. It's my goddamn house, and I'll do what I like in it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mama," I said, rubbing the back of my head as I scooted far enough away to be out of her reach. "But you need help."

"Fuck you, Leah," she said. "If you don't like it, there's the door. Don't let it hit you on the ass on the way out."

I picked up the grocery bags and walked to the kitchen where Riley sat with her back against the wall, staring out the window.

"She has a serious problem," she observed. "She really needs to get some help for it."

"Indeed she does, but there's no way we can make her do something she doesn't want to do," I said as I unpacked the groceries and prepared to make dinner. For a moment, I leaned against the counter and wondered how we'd gotten to this point and why it was so hard to change things.

"What are we going to do, Leah?" Riley asked as she stopped picking at her hand and looked up at me with a worried expression. The creases in her forehead were far too deep for someone so young, but she'd been forced to grow up more quickly than most kids her age.

"I don't know, Riley," I sighed as I stood up and continued unpacking the bags. "She really needs help, but I can't force her to do anything. I talked to Patrick last night. I'm hoping that he'll show up and talk some sense into her."

"Uncle Patrick's coming over?" Riley said, perking up.

"Father Patrick," I replied.

"Oh, right, Father Patrick," she repeated, rolling her eyes the way only a twelve-year-old could. "When is he coming, Leah?"

"He said I'm supposed to bring her to Mass, and he'll take care of the rest," I said. "But I can't see how we're going to get her to Mass like this."

"Tell her she doesn't have a choice," Riley said in a sullen tone. "Like you do with me."

"That's not fair, and you know it," I said.