Page 34 of Piece By Piece

The woman brushes me off. “Please, women like that. She’d surely feel flattered knowing you talked about her.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure she would. I’ll still refrain from making any moves that strong for now. Who knows, maybe you’ll accompany me on one of my visits and you may meet her yourself. All in due time, though.”

“I’d love to meet her.” She winks at me and pats my arm. “I’ll go check in on your father now. You’re okay?” she asks, getting to her feet.

“I’m good. Sorry for how things escalated. He’s just so fucking infuriating.”

“I know. You two just have a way of triggering each other. Sleep now, my boy, we have to be up early tomorrow.”

I get up and hug her. “Goodnight, mom”

Chapter 18

Aliena

I struggle to get the door open with the bags hanging from my arms. I try to push down the handle with my elbow and nearly cry out in relief when I find it unlocked. Thank god. I’m sure I would have dropped all the groceries I bought if I had to get out the key I was given the last time I visited my dad.

“Linda? Is that you?” my dad calls from upstairs, presumably his room. He hasn’t gotten much better in the last two weeks since he told me about what happened and I’m sure our suspicion that my mother relapsed is true. I didn’t find any drugs when I looked through her things, but I see the signs. Dad sees them too.

It’s been a stressful time and it’s only getting worse now that Christmas is around the corner. I never liked Christmas, even as a child, but since I spent the last few years with Lily and her family, I found that it could be fun. Sadly, I don’t think I’ll get to spend the holidays with my friend this year. My parents need me.

I finally set my full bags down in the kitchen and then yell back, “Just me, dad.” I’m embarrassingly out of breath. I really need to do some cardio.

I can hear my dad make his way downstairs, much slower than he usually would. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He should have been better by now. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t been able to reduce the stress he’s confronted with considering his unsuccessful job hunt and the whole situation with my mom. Sure, I’ve been trying to help but there’s only so much I can do.

Between taking care of my parents and working at the nursing home, I haven’t even had time to see my friends. I miss them and to say I need a break from looking after others would be an understatement. I can’t even remember the last time I took a bath and had some good old me-time.

“Hello, Aly. It’s good to see you,” my dad greets me with an awkward hand on my back as I start putting all the groceries away. I turn, trying hard to hide my discomfort at the sight of his pale face. God, he looks like shit. I hate seeing him like this, it makes him appear so old.

“Hey, dad. Where’s mom?” I ask. She should have come home from work about two hours ago. For heaven’s sake, we’re only a week from Christmas now, it’s cold outside. I hate to think that she’s out somewhere, doing who-knows-what to her body.

“I don’t know, Honey. I’m sure she’ll be home soon,” he tries to reassure me. It doesn’t work. I remember the old times when mom would still vanish for days and we didn’t know where she was. Even the thought of those times has a part of shriveling up inside. I never thought I’d have to go through all that again.

One of my biggest worries is that mom lost her job. She barely made minimum wage as it was but now that dad no longer has an income, it’s vital to get whatever we can. I’m already covering their expenses for food but I’m not surehow much more of my own money I can spare. If all their bills come on top of mine, we’ll all be in debt.

If things keep getting worse, I’m afraid I’ll have to move out of my apartment and move back in with them but I’ll do anything possible to prevent that. I can’t live here again. There are too many memories, and this will never feel like home, I know it.

Things are a mess.

“All right. Well, I’ll start working on dinner now, okay? You should rest some more.”

“I’m fine, honey,” my dad insists even though his shoulders are hunched. It’s as if the effort to just keep standing is exhausting him.

“Dad, you don’t look too fine. Have you been taking your pills?” I ask.

He shakes his head and tries to smile softly. “I must’ve misplaced them,” he tries to lie. What he really means is that my mother stole the rest of them. My stomach is in knots but I try to sound as normal as possible as I speak.

“Dad, I’m no longer a child. Please, stop trying to lie to me. We have to talk about it and find a solution. We can’t let her go on like this.”

He sighs and just like that, he looks another ten years older. “I don’t know what to tell you, honey. I feel like I failed you. Again. I don’t know how things escalated so quickly with your mother. She was sober for years. I didn’t know having the pills around would trigger her. This is my fault,” he says. A lump forms in my throat.

“Please, don’t blame yourself.” Not when I should have been around more. It’s not his fault mom relapsed. “Maybe it would help if we talked about it with her?” I propose.

“I don’t think that’s a great idea. The first time, whenever I tried talking to her about her problem, she just got defensive and left for days. I’m afraid to risk it. It’s so cold out now, she could die out there. Especially with all that venom in her veins,” he explains. I nod slowly, turning toward the stove so my dad can’t see my expression anymore.

I’m so tired, I don’t think I could mask my despair at the whole situation.

“What about professional help?” I ask, even though I know we could never afford it. If that is what it takes, I’ll just have to find a way.

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