Page 62 of Notes About Vodka

He looks down at me, his voice low and soft. “You know…whatever you need, I’m here for you. No pressure. No expectations. I just want you to feel like you belong here, Laura.”

For a second, I think my heart might break. This guy—this incredibly kind, funny, infuriating guy—is somehow exactly what I need right now, and I don’t even know how to say it. Instead, I just nod, feeling my throat tighten.

“Thanks,” I whisper, not trusting my voice to say much more.

As we continue to lay there, tangled together with the city lights flickering outside, I let myself imagine the impossible: a future where I’m not constantly looking over my shoulder, where I’m free to just be with someone who sees me, really seesme. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but right now, this is enough.

With Val by my side, I’m hopeful. For once, that’s enough.

Smiling, I wake up to a dream so real…so vivid.

I wake up questioning whether it happened or not. Except that I’m still snuggled into Val on the couch, completely covered.

I shiver, slightly terrified that I am already this comfortable with moving to the next level with Val.What does that say about me?

Chapter Nineteen

LAURA

"Vodka has a way of blurring the lines between reality and paranoia, turning whispers into shadows that dance just beyond the light."

A few nights later, as I’m getting ready to go on stage atPianissimo, I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. I glance at the screen and see it’s my mom.

I haven’t heard from her in a couple of weeks. Normal. But she’s really good at calling when I’m about to be busy.

She's also the only person I keep my phone’s ringer on for. I never know if her calls are going to be calm or frantic, a result of her paranoid schizophrenia, and I know I need to answer. I step out back to take the call, bracing myself for whatever she might say.

“Mom, what’s up? I’m about to go into work, is everything okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

“They’re watching me, Laura. They’re watching all of us,” she says, her voice trembling with fear.

“Mom, it’s okay. You’re safe. No one is watching you,” I sayinto the phone, trying to keep my voice calm and steady. But I can hear the panic on the other end of the line, the way her breath comes in short, frantic bursts. It’s like she’s trapped in her own mind, too far gone to hear me.

“You don’t understand, Laura!” she cries, her voice breaking. “They’re everywhere. I can see them watching me through the windows… They’re following me again!”

There’s a rustling noise, like she’s moving around, checking the windows or maybe pacing the room. I can’t see her, but I know her well enough to picture it: her wild eyes darting around, her fingers clutching the phone so tightly her knuckles must be white.

“Mom, listen to me,” I say, trying to cut through the fear in her voice. “There’s no one there. You’re at home, and you’re safe. It’s just the medication making you feel this way.”

She doesn’t seem to hear me. “They’ve put cameras in the walls, Laura. I can hear them talking about me…plotting against me. You have to believe me!”

I feel a lump forming in my throat, my chest tightening with helplessness. “Mom, there are no cameras. No one is plotting against you. Mom, can I speak with Nick?.”

I’ve said this so many times before, but it never seems to help. She’s been like this my entire life… The paranoia comes and goes, but lately, it feels like it’s more here than gone.

“They’re going to take me away!” she shouts, and I can hear the tears in her voice now, the sheer terror. “I don’t want to go, Laura. Please, don’t let them take me!”

I bite my lip, trying to keep my own emotions in check. “No one is taking you anywhere, Mom,” I say softly. “I promise. I’m here. Just…try to take a deep breath, okay? For me.”

There’s a pause, a brief moment of silence on the other end, and I hope—just for a second—that maybe she’s calming down. But then she starts again, her voice a whisper, filled with dread. “They’re outside right now. I can see their shadows moving. You have to come here, Laura. You have to help me.”

Tears spill down my cheeks as I lean against the counter at the back of thePianissimo, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on me. “I’ll come by tomorrow, okay? First thing in the morning. But for now, you need to try and get some rest. Can you do that for me? And also, where’s Nick, mama? Can you help find him for me? I need to speak to step-daddy, okay?” I say sweetly, hoping mom calms down a little if I remind her I’m still her little girl that needs her help.

“I don’t know,” she whispers, sounding so small, so scared. “I’m so scared, Laura.”

“I know, Mom,” I say, my voice breaking. “I know. But you’re not alone. I’m right here with you. We’ll get through this together, okay?”

She doesn’t respond, but I can hear her breathing, slow and unsteady. I stay on the line, listening to her, wishing I could reach through the phone and hold her, wishing I could make it all go away. But all I can do is listen and hope that somehow, that’s enough.

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