The other three hundred and sixty-three days, she handles life. She works as a waitress at a local diner—the same one she’s been working at since I was little—and pays her bills. She owns the home she lives in and refuses to move elsewhere. I’ve begged and pleaded, but she won’t leave the home where Audrina grew up. Her room is the same way it was when she died, and she won’t let anyone touch a thing. I’ve tried to get her to see someone, to get help, but she won’t. I’ve spoken to a few people about it, and everyone says the same thing—unless she wants to get help, I can’t make her. She’s not an alcoholic, she doesn’t do drugs, so there’s nothing I can do.
Georgia: Hey, you left… Everything okay?
Georgia: I’m worried.
Alec: Yo, where you at?
Alec: Everyone’s worried. I called the station and nobody’s heard from you.
Gently, I set my mom down on the bed. She stirs but stays asleep. I type out a group text to Alec and Georgia.
Me: Sorry I left in a rush. I won’t be able to make it tonight.
Alec knows I had a sister who died but doesn’t know the specifics, and Georgia doesn’t know anything about my family, so trying to explain it all in a text isn’t exactly the best way to tell them. I hate that I won’t be able to be with Georgia tonight, but my mom needs me. I’m all she has.
After a brief conversation through text with Georgia and Alec, who tell me if I need anything to let them know, I tell them to have a good time and then start cleaning up the house for my mom. The place is a disaster. My mom usually keeps the house clean. Everything in it is aged, but she’s always made sure to take care of what she owns. Based on the dirty dishes and empty alcohol bottles all over, I would guess she started drinking last night, probably had whatever guy she’s sleeping with over, and took her pain over losing my sister out on the place.
Just as I’m finishing up, Mom comes out of her room, her eyes glossy with new tears. “I’m so sorry,” she says, enveloping me in a hug. “Every birthday, every anniversary of her death, I tell myself I won’t do this…”
“It’s okay, Mom,” I tell her, hugging her back. “You’re doing the best you can.”
She glances around and sighs. “Thank you for cleaning up.”
“How’re you feeling?”
“I’m… okay. If you don’t have any plans, would you like to go to the cemetery with me?”
“Of course. Why don’t you go shower and get dressed, and then I’ll drive us over.”
“Thank you, Chase,” she says, wiping a tear that’s escaped, before heading back to her room.
The drive to the cemetery is quiet, and so is the walk over to where she was buried. But once we’re there, Mom starts reminiscing about the past. We spend the next few hours talking about how smart and sweet Audrina was. The truth is, she had a bright future ahead of her. Until she met Danny. He was a bad boy, and she thought he was cool. She swore they loved each other and she would do anything for him, including drugs. Mom and Dad tried to get her away from him, but it only made her want him that much more. Everyone said it was just a phase and she would get through it… Unfortunately, she died before she could.
Tests revealed the drugs she took were laced with something that caused her heart to stop. She overdosed in the living room of Danny’s house, and because he was too wasted, he didn’t notice. And when he finally did, it was too late.
Once we’re both cried out, we decide to grab something to eat. It’s late, after midnight, so I take us to a diner, where we order breakfast for dinner, which was Audrina’s favorite.
“How are you doing?” Mom asks.
I pop a piece of pancake into my mouth. “I’m good. Just working…chilling. The usual.”
“Any new women?” she asks with a hint of a smile.
Mom used to be close to Victoria, considered her to be a daughter, and when she started doing drugs, she was right there, trying to get her help. She never wanted Victoria to end up like Audrina. But when she found out what Victoria did… let’s just say blood is thicker than water.
Now, every time we talk, she asks me if I’m seeing anyone. She’s mentioned on several occasions she would love to have a grandchild. Since I’m now her only living child, I’m the only one who can give her one.
“Nope,” I tell her, refusing to think about Georgia and the fact that she’s probably out right now, dancing with some guy who’ll ask her for her number… Because she’s gorgeous and any guy would be stupid not to.