Daily Flash Fiction Challenge

Gritting my teeth, I approach the starling-stained table, my mother’s birthday orchid in hand.

“We’re having a picnic in McCormick Woods next Sunday,” my mother announced in her weekly Friday phone call. “For my birthday. Daddy promises not to drink.”

They are all here, the drunken relatives I avoid spending time with except at the holidays and such. I force my mouth into a smile.

“Pull up a bench,” my father says as he takes a drink from a coke bottle. “You want one? It’s pretty darn good for a non-alcoholic beverage.” He winks.

Liquor is not allowed in McCormick Woods, not that the rule has ever stopped Dad before.

I acknowledge the others, all drinking from ‘coke’ bottles, “Aunt Birdie. Uncle Bert. George. Connie.”

Connie and George are my lazy, good-for-nothing alcoholic cousins, Aunt Birdie (Dad’s sister) and Uncle Bert’s offspring. My only argument in favor of abortion would be Connie and George.

“Honey, you’re here!” My mother hurries toward me.

I hand her the potted flower.

“That’s beautiful. Thank you!”

She places the gift in the middle of the table for all to admire...which they don’t.

“Can I help with something, Mom?” I ask, loudly.

No one lifts a finger to help her...ever. I get so mad I can’t see straight.

“Help me unload.”

We head for the parking lot.

“You said he wasn’t drinking, Mom.”

“That’s a coca-cola.”

“It’s a coke bottle filled with vodka, and you know it.” I lift the cooler from the trunk. “They’re so f’ing worthless! Damn alcoholics. How do you cope?”

My mom pulls a large flask from her jacket pocket, takes a long drink and offers me some. “It takes the edge off.”

I take a swig.

You know what they say: if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.