Whiskey and Cigarettes

My mom walked in smelling like winter and cigarette smoke. She didn't say much as she threw the pizza boxes down on the table. That was my cue. I grabbed Gabe and sat him in his highchair. Then I ran to the kitchen for paper plates and glasses of milk for the two of us.

Pizza was a treat at my best friend Jamie's house. Her mom cooked every night and they all sat together at the table, too. Gabe and I ate pizza most nights, except for the rare occasion that mom stopped at KFC. I liked KFC; it was almost like a real supper. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn on the cob, and biscuits, that was the kind of supper families were supposed to eat.

I was thinking about how good a crispy piece of fried chicken would taste, maybe a leg piece, when I heard mom start the shower. I should've known she was leaving, that's why she brought the pizza instead of having it delivered. She didn't spend many nights at home. The last night she was home with us was the night we put up the Christmas tree and that was at least two weeks before. I don't know what she was doing or where she was going, but she always smelled like whiskey (the kind grandma put on my gums when I had a toothache) and cigarettes when she came back. I usually found her on the couch or the floor (if she missed the couch) half undressed and snoring. There were times when she had gotten sick and thrown up all over herself too. Those were the really scary nights. I was always afraid she was dead and I would put my head down really close to her face so I could hear if she was breathing. That didn't always work, so sometimes I would put my hand on her chest to feel her heart. There was always a beat. So far.

Gabe and I finished our pizza; his was mostly on his chubby face. I put the rest in the refrigerator for Dad and headed for the bathroom to run some water for Gabe. Mom was just putting the finishing touches on her makeup.
"It's time for Gabe's bath," I told her, hoping she would say not to worry about it she was going to do it tonight.
She took the cigarette from her mouth and set it in the ashtray on the back of the toilet.


"I'll be done in a minute, honey," she said without looking at me. "Go ahead and start the water and by the time it's full, I'll be done."

I turned the water on, checked to see if it was too hot and finally added the bubbles. She was right, the tub was full and she was ready to leave. She grabbed her coat and purse, kissed Gabe and me on the head and then she was gone.

Twenty minutes later dad came home. He looked at the empty pizza box, and then gave me a look that said-She's gone again? I tried to think of something that would make that mad look go away, but I couldn't think of anything. I knew that if he was awake when she got home, they'd be screaming all night.

"Dad, I have to get Gabe out of the tub," I said and escaped to the bathroom.
I dried Gabe with his favorite Teletubbies towel, dressed him in his Teletubbies P.J.s, and put him in his crib. I went back to the bathroom to clean up the mess we had made. I kept thinking that I should try to talk to my dad. Maybe he wouldn't stay mad if I talked to him. But I was too tired. I didn't even have enough energy to brush my teeth.

I turned off the bathroom light and walked to my bedroom, where I threw myself on my bed. I didn't even take my shoes off. I must've fallen right to sleep, because I thought it was morning when they woke me up with the screaming.

I knew better than to try to stop them. I would just have to wait till dad had said all he had to say and then I could go take care of mom. It didn't take long for dad to stomp off to their bedroom. I waited as long as I could to make sure he wouldn't come back out. Then I tiptoed to the living room, where I found mom under the Christmas tree. It looked like she had fallen, because most of the ornaments and peppermint candy canes had been knocked off of the tree. She had gotten sick again and she was lying in it. I wanted to cry as I went into the bathroom to get a washcloth and cleaned her up the best I could. I dragged her to the couch and pushed her up onto it. I covered her with the afghan from dad's chair. Then I put my head down really close to her face. Just to be sure I put my hand on her chest.