by Claire Adams
“Iris?”
My mother appeared at the top of the stairs. Her clothes were wrinkled from being slept in, but at least this time her pretty hair didn’t have vomit in it. One hand sliding down the wall, she hobbled dangerously down the stairs to where I waited uneasily. The last thing I wanted to do was spend the afternoon in the hospital because she fell down the stairs.
I caught sight of a bottle of what appeared to vodka in her right hand.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, peering down at me in confusion. “I didn’t think you graduated until May. What month is it?”
“Beginning of April, almost,” I replied and stepped away from her when she attempted to hug me. “It’s spring break. Mom, this house is a disaster again. Why can’t you keep it clean?”
I scanned the dirty floors that needed vacuuming desperately. Bottles and cans were littered everywhere. I didn’t even want to think about how bad the kitchen and bathrooms looked.
“I’m tired,” she complained, stumbling slightly before she caught herself. “I can’t keep up with all this cleaning.”
“You can’t keep up because you’re drunk all the time,” I said. “Come on.” I took her arm and helped her hobble back over to the couch. “Let’s sit down and talk a little bit about everything.”
“Okay.” She sat down without protest. I took away the bottle dangling from her fingers and tucked it behind me out of sight.
“How is school?” she asked before I could even breach the subject we needed to talk about.
I rolled my eyes at the deflection. Whenever my mother sensed a conversation revolving around alcohol, she tried to think of something else to talk about.
“Fine,” I said. “Mom-”
She stared at me blearily with a small smile. “No boyfriend yet, Iris? You need to find a good man to take care of you.”
Noah popped into my mind. For a moment, the words burned on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to tell her. I wanted to ask her for advice, but I couldn’t trust anything with my mother – even my deepest secrets and fears.
“No,” I said, tightly. “No boyfriend. Mom-”
“Don’t ask me for advice though,” she continued bitterly. “Look at me. I had my heart trampled on by your father. Look at what heartbreak has done to me.”
“Right. Let’s talk about that,” I said, grabbing her hand. “Don’t you think you’re letting him win by being like this?”
She blinked at me in confusion. “How am I letting him win? I got the house. I got half of everything.”
And spent all of it on alcohol.
“You’re stuck in this house all the time. You don’t ever go out besides to walk down to the liquor store. You-”
“I go to the grocery store too. It’s right next to the liquor store.”
“Mom.” A headache pounded in my temples. I could feel it was going to be one of those visits, and out of desperation, I tried to talk her out of it. “Dad’s a prick. He treated you like shit. He treated me like shit. Why are you so heartbroken over him walking out?”
“It’s not that easy,” she replied with surprising clarity. “You get married to someone that you think is your soulmate. You’re married for twenty-something years, and then find out that they had cheated on you the entire time. Wait.” She held up a finger when I opened my mouth. “And then find out that the reason why he is walking out on you is because his latest mistress is pregnant with his child.”
Tears filled her eyes. None of that surprised me. My father didn’t care about anyone besides himself. Still, my heart ached thinking about him loving another child the way he never bothered to treat us.
“I didn’t know that,” I said, softly. I squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, Mom. He never told me he was having another kid.”
“Of course not,” she replied darkly. “Why would he tell you? He’s desperate to get you to turn against me. He doesn’t want to be viewed as the bad guy. His ego is that big.”
“He won’t win me over. I don’t even feel love for him.”
“Good. Don’t waste your time on loving someone who doesn’t love you.”
That was why I always returned back to my mom whenever things went south. I loved her, despite the alcohol. I still saw shadows of her old self hiding behind those bloodshot eyes.
“Do you like feeling this way?” I asked, motioning to the bottles around us. “I mean, think about it. Do you feel like this a good way to live?”
She didn’t bother looking around her. “No,” she said, shortly. “I hate feeling this way. No matter how much I drink anymore, the feeling gets worse.”
“That’s because your body is used to it. You drink more because your tolerance is high now.”
“I wake up craving it,” she told me, grimacing. “If I don’t, I shake badly. That’s not a good thing.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s not good, Mom. Maybe we should look at getting you some help.”
She made a face at the suggestion. “Like a rehab?”
“Exactly like a rehab.”
“I don’t have the money to go,” she pointed out, shrugging her shoulders. “I might as well just keep drinking.”
She reached behind a pillow to pull out a bottle of what smelt like rum. I watched with a grimace as she took a shot right of the bottle without even blinking.
“We’ll figure something out, Mom,” I said. “I promise that everything will be okay.”
I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up the house and doing laundry, as usual. By the time I finished around 10:00 p.m., I was bone tired. I checked my phone to see if I had any missed messages. None, and I didn’t expect any, even though a part of me hoped for it.
Plugging my phone in to charge, I changed into sleeping shirt, and crawled into the freshly laundered sheets still warm from the dryer.
I stared up at the shadows on the ceiling while my ears strained to hear what my mother was doing in the next room over. I had managed to convince her to stay in her room versus stumbling around the house. I didn’t want to fall asleep knowing she was wandering around the house.
The swish followed by the clink of ice alerted me what she was doing. I pulled the blanket up over my head. After a night like I had with Noah, I wished she was sober enough to give me some desperately needed advice about the army of emotions I felt.
It was too late to go back to Noah’s now, even though I wanted to. I needed to stay put.
Chapter Nineteen
Noah
Pain shot up my right knee when I lifted the bar one last time with a grunt. The weight of it dug into the back of my neck while I placed the bar back in place, letting out a relieved breath. Sweat dripped down the back of my neck when I reached up to rub at the aching muscles there.
I wasn’t supposed to be working out intensely with my knee being so fragile, but after an entire week of nothing from Iris, I needed to blow off some steam.
I extended out my leg to ease the pain shooting up my thigh now. Nothing would ever feel right with it. The damage was too far gone. Even walking about the PHU campus hurt like a bitch.
Grabbing a towel from my bag, I wiped away the sweat on the back of my neck while I ventured back to the locker rooms. School would resume next week with hopes of spring lingering in the air. The snowstorm had passed , and much of the snow was already gone, making everyone’s spirits chipper.
Except mine.
I stomped into the locker room in the direction of the showers to get ready for dinner at Hunter’s house. Whatever issue the two newlywed lovebirds had before was now blown over according to Hunter when he had called to extend an invitation for dinner. I had a suspicion that he wanted to question me about Iris more, so he used the pretense of a free home-cooked meal to coax me over.
The hot spray did little to ease the tension in my body. My knee hurt like a bitch, but it was just easier to blow steam off this way. I had papers to grade, as well. That would provide a good distraction from the fact that Iris
had never answered any of my texts after she left.
None of it made sense to me. I knew the intensity had caught her off guard, just as much as it had caught me by surprise. Still, she didn’t seem like the type of woman to just sleep with a teacher to get a passing grade, but her silence started to grate on my irritation levels that were already boiling at dangerous levels.
She had been the one to accept my offer in staying with me for spring break. Not once had I expected for us to spend the entire break pretending to be a couple. Hell, I hadn’t expected things to turn the way they did.
I washed up quickly to drive over to Hunter’s house. The front door opened up to reveal a beaming Livvy in some loose, gray pants and a white blouse.
“Hi, Noah,” she said, flourishing me in with a grin. “You look good, as usual. How is everything going?”
“Good,” I replied, a bit taken by the cheerful greeting. Livvy had never made it a secret that she didn’t trust me around her husband. I was deemed the “bad influence,” when in truth Hunter and I had been friends for so long that neither one of us could remember which one was actually the bad influence.
“Everything is going great,” I said. “How are you doing?”
Livvy grinned as she took my jacket. “Just wonderful. Please, come in. You brought wine for dinner. How nice of you.”
She took the bottle from my hands as Hunter jogged down from the stairs to greet me at the door, as well. He shut the front door while Livvy swept away to the kitchen with the bottle of wine.
“Why is she in such a good mood?” I asked, warily. “Did you two just have sex before I got here?”
Hunter threw his arm around my shoulders with a laugh. “Maybe. Come on. Let’s go outside to get the prime rib from the smoker and have a couple of beers.”
I followed him down the long hallway, passing the kitchen where Livvy was busily chopping up a head of lettuce. She smiled at us both before we stepped out into the warm evening. The smell of meat and garlic swirled in the air. My stomach grumbled in appreciation.
“I figured you’d be happy to have dinner here,” Hunter said, tapping the lid of his smoker with a fingertip. “I noticed you eat nothing but frozen pizzas or take out. How do you keep so damn fit?”
I accepted a beer when he offered one from the cooler. “I work out at the campus gym when I’m there.”
“I’m pretty sure you aren’t supposed to be doing that with your knee.”
“I’m not, but I’m not a fucking couch potato,” I stated, and looked right at Hunter as he opened his own beer. “What is going on? Livvy never invites me over for dinner.”
“We’ll get to that at dinner,” he replied absently. “Have you heard anything from your student-”
“Iris,” I cut in shortly. “Her name is Iris.”
“Right, Iris. No word?”
“No, nothing.” I scowled when he chuckled deeply. “I’m glad you find the situation humorous.”
“Not the situation you’re in,” he said. “Just the fact that this chick got under your skin. It’s bugging the shit out of you.”
I took a long pull from my beer. “Yeah, well. Can you blame me?”
“No. Maybe she just wanted your dick to get a good grade. Ever think of that?”
“Unfortunately,” I said, grimacing. “I don’t think that’s it, though. She doesn’t strike me as that type. I would know, too; I’ve slept with enough women who wanted my dick for various reasons. I never got that feeling from Iris.”
“Women can be sneaky and manipulative,” Hunter said. “There’s a reason why they are considered the smarter sex.”
Livvy stepped out onto the back porch. “Is the prime rib done?”
“Medium rare and perfect,” Hunter replied, grabbing a tray next to the smoker before turning back to me. “I’m just taking advice from your own playbook – hit it, then quit it. That’s what you used to me all the time.”
“I was twenty-something when I came up that shit,” I said wryly. “I don’t have the fucking energy to just hit it and quit it anymore.”
Hunter opened the lid of the smoker. Gray smoke spilled out as he grabbed the roast and placed it on the tray.
“Something tells me that you aren’t telling the truth about that,” he said. “Let’s eat. I’ve been thinking about this prime rib all damn day.”
I sat on the opposite side of Hunter as Livvy took a seat next to him in the dining room. The entire table was covered in plates of food and various decorative candles. I looked up in confusion at Hunter who merely grinned at me.
“So,” Livvy started, taking a hold of Hunter’s hand in her own. “I imagine you are wondering why we asked you over here.”
“I’m mainly wondering why you both are so cheerful. What type of drugs are you taking, and can I have some?”
Livvy’s grin faltered slightly. Something hard kicked me in the shin, and I smiled apologetically when Hunter gave me a warning look.
“Sorry. I was being sarcastic. What is your wonderful news?”
“Well, we are in a good mood because we are expecting a baby,” Livvy said.
My jaw dropped open in surprise. “You’re shitting me, right?” They both shook their head. “You’re having a baby?”
“We are,” Hunter confirmed proudly. “We just found out this past week that Livvy is five weeks along.”
“Wow. Congrats,” I said, and forced myself to smile at the both of them. “Really, that’s great news guys. Congrats.”
Livvy reached down to place a hand on her stomach. She beamed over at Hunter before looking at me. “I know you’ll be sad without your buddy to hang out with all the time, but I promise that I won’t keep him from you. I know you two you’ve been friends since college.”
I gulped down a large mouthful of red wine.
“That was years ago,” I gasped out. “He should be more of your buddy than mine. I’m getting sick of his face, honestly.”
“I’m getting sick of yours, too,” he shot back. “All through college you were the man in a sea of boys when it came to everything. That’s why you went to New Zealand to play.”
“Why did you stop?” Livvy asked, curiously.
Swirling my wine, I looked up to catch Hunter’s gaze from across the table. True to his word, he remained silent despite Livvy looking over at him in confusion.
“Things happened,” I said, taking another gulp of wine.
The tips of my fingers tingled slightly, and I quickly shoveled a couple of bites of garlic mashed potatoes in my mouth to fight off the effects of the wine. She didn’t bring the topic up the rest of the night. When it came close to 10:00, I thanked Livvy for dinner before she headed upstairs for the night. I grabbed my jacket from where it hung behind the front door.
“You going to be okay, man?” Hunter asked.
I slid my arms into the sleeves. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“Just this whole thing with Iris. I’m worried about you.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, clasping his shoulder. “You worry about your life. You’re going to be a dad. That means you worry about that only. Not me.”
He looked unconvinced, but didn’t say anything further when I opened the front door to step out into the now chilly night. I turned to look back at him, shoving my hands into the pockets of my coat to keep them warm.
“I’m happy for you, bro. I really am.”
He smiled. “Thanks. I hope you get to this point in your life. It’s a good feeling to have. Trust me.”
I doubted I ever would. Just watching Livvy and Hunter together was painful enough because I couldn’t handle that type of relationship.
“Maybe,” I said.
I bid Hunter goodbye before returning to my SUV. Thumbing through my contacts, I found Iris’ number from when she had called to clarify directions. I backed out of the driveway with the phone glued to my ear.
“Hi. This is Iris. Leave your name and-”
I hit the red button with a sigh.
I was acting like a teenage girl obsessing over a boy she’d never get to have again no matter how much she wanted him. If Iris wanted to play this game, then she had no idea what she was in for.
Chapter Twenty
Iris
Attn: Ms. Iris Paige and Ms. Bailey Houser,
We would like to inform you that fumigating in Apartment B building is now over. It is now safe to return. Thank you for your time and patience. We apologize for any inconvenience this might have had.
Sincerely,
Management
“Inconvenience?” I repeated out loud, scoffing down at the email. “Inconvenience doesn’t even begin to cover it. Better late than never.”
I closed my computer with a relieved sigh. I could pack up – finally – and get back to the apartment and have some normalcy. Bailey’s flight didn’t come back until late Sunday night, so I would have a few days of utter peace to think and do homework.
The early afternoon sunlight illuminated my mom’s house when I stepped out of my old bedroom with my bags in hand. I set them down next to the front door before double checking that there was fresh food in the fridge and pantry. As usual, I took my mother’s car keys and hid them up on the top shelf out of sight.
I knocked twice gently before opening the door to find her passed out in the middle of the bed. Grabbing the half-empty bottle of vodka, I poured it down the bathroom sink before sitting down on the edge of her bed.
The afternoon light brought out the rich golden hues of her hair. In sleep, she looked relaxed and beautiful, how I liked to remember her from when I was a child. We used to spend hours fixing each other’s hair up and putting on ridiculous shades of red lipstick on. There weren’t any lines around her sparkling blue eyes back then. Her skin had been tanned and healthy compared to her sunken and pale features now.
The divorce had hit her harder than I ever imagined.
