Page 111 of Notes About Vodka

She continues, her gaze dropping to her hands. “I’ve been dealing with my mom’s issues my whole life, and it’s draining in ways that are hard to explain. When I got that call, I knew she’d hit rock bottom again. And...this time, I don’t think I can keep doing it. I don’t think I can keep getting pulled back in.”

My chest tightens, the words heavy with meaning. “You mean...cutting ties?”

She nods slowly, her voice catching. “It’s just that every time I try to get closer to her, it’s like she drags me back down with her. I’m always stuck between wanting to help her and needing to protect myself.”

I want to say something reassuring, something that would let her know I understand, but the truth is, I don’t. The thought of severing ties with family feels impossible, almost unimaginable. “But...she’s still your mom,” I say cautiously. “Doesn’t that mean there’s some way to work through this? Together?”

Laura’s eyes flash with a mix of frustration and sadness. “Val, I know it’s hard to understand. But it’s like...it’s like her life is a sinkhole, and if I get too close, I lose myself.” She pauses, searching for the right words. “And as hard as it is, I think it’s time to let go for my own sake.”

There’s a rawness to her words, and I can see how much it pains her to even say them out loud. Slowly, I reach for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I might not understand, but...I get that it’s hard. And if this is what you need, I’ll be here for you, whatever you decide.”

Her shoulders relax, a small breath of relief escaping herlips. “Thank you. Just knowing you’re with me on this...it means more than you know. Besides, I’ll be home in two weeks and I want to know we are okay.”

“We are more than okay, lubimaya, you are my world,” I tell her. “I love you, Laura.”

She leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around her, pulling her close. We sit there in silence, just breathing together, the weight of the conversation settling around us.

The next morning, we take the train, per Laura’s request, to Washington, D.C. The city is buzzing with excitement for the holiday, and there’s an electric energy in the air. Skipper leads us as we walk toward the National Mall, pointing out some of his favorite sites from a past trip here.

“Oh, I could give you the whole tour,” he says with a wink. “Let’s start with the giant Abe himself.”

We follow his lead, and by the time we reach the Lincoln Memorial, Laura’s bouncing with excitement. She interrupts Skipper as she tells us all about Lincoln’s speeches, the history of the Memorial itself, and I watch her, mesmerized by her passion.

Skipper grins. “I thought I was the tour guide here. Are you sure you’re not just acting out to impress your guy?” he teases, glancing at me.

Laura rolls her eyes, smiling. “Oh, please, I’d be talking about Lincoln whether or not Val was here. This city just does it for me.”

Rhea snickers. “Careful, Val, she might dump you for a guy who’s been dead for over a century.”

Laura elbows Rhea, laughing, but then she slips her hand into mine. I give her hand a squeeze, my heart pounding. “Well, Lincoln didn’t show up here in person,” I say softly, “but I did.”

She gives me a warm smile, and I swear I could stand there, her hand in mine, for hours.

Next, we walk to the Washington Monument, with Laura practically dragging us along. She’s definitely in charge of this adventure now.

She insists we wait in line to go to the top, and when we finally get there, the view is incredible. Laura’s face lights up as she looks out over the city, pointing out landmarks.

“This is so much better with you guys here,” she says, squeezing my arm. I let my hand rest at her lower back, just needing to keep her close, to feel that she’s here with me.

Afterward, we make our way to the Smithsonian museums, and I watch Laura’s eyes sparkle as we wander through exhibit after exhibit. She gets Rhea and Skipper hyped up about the Hope Diamond and ropes us all into staring at artifacts like they’re keys to an ancient puzzle. I love seeing her this happy, and every chance I get, I find a way to touch her—her shoulder, her hand, her back. It’s like I can’t help it; I just want her near.

When dusk settles, we find a spot on the lawn for the fireworks. Laura leans her head on my shoulder, and I wrap an arm around her, enjoying the quiet moments between us as we wait.

As the first firework bursts in the sky, the crowd lets out a collective gasp, and Laura grips my hand, her fingers lacing into mine. I turn to look at her, and she glances up at me, smiling softly, and whispers, “I forgive you, Val. Just…don’t let me down again, okay?”

Her words hit me hard. I pull her close and murmur, “I won’t, Laura. I promise.” Her forgiveness feels like a gift, and I’m not about to take it for granted.

Skipper, overhearing, smirks from his spot beside us. “Lookat these lovebirds. Can we enjoy the fireworks, or should we get you two a violin and some moonlight?”

Laura laughs, nudging him. “Oh, hush, Skip. If it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t even be here right now.” She punches his arm playfully, and he grins.

“It was mostly Val’s idea, believe it or not,” he admits, glancing at me. “He’s the one who wouldn’t stop texting until I said yes.”

Rhea snickers. “Let’s be honest, Skip, Val probably texts you more than he texts Laura.”

I give them both a look of mock offense. “I don’t need to text you two that often,” I say, deadpan. “You just keep showing up uninvited.”

Laura laughs, reaching up to cup my face, brushing a thumb over my cheek. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you all are,” she says, her voice barely a whisper.

---