See No Evil

Chapter 17

Stone

Damn it all to hell. She’s wasted.

I should have known. Shit!

I really wish Fi

I’ve read plenty of articles describing how people who have her condition can lead perfectly normal lives once they have the right medication. The only thing they leave out is the hefty price tag that goes along with playing the game of ‘let’s see what meds work for you, Ms. Be

“Baby girl! You came!” she slurs with a happy tone.

I look around at the empty whiskey bottles and cans of beer and see she at least bought enough booze before that dipshit ex of hers stole all her money.

“I just wanted to check up on you.”

“Always the dutiful daughter. How did I ever get lucky enough to raise such a good girl?” she continues with a wide smile, hiccupping at the end of her rant.

Her steps are clumsy and her pupils dilated, so when she begins to sway from left to right like walking on a boat, I know she’s more than shitfaced. She’s high as a kite, too. I should have figured—booze and meds don’t mix. Before she stumbles to the floor, I run to her side and help her keep her balance.

“Had too much to drink, Momma?”

“Just a little, baby. Just enough to calm my nerves.” She grins.

My mother is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen when she’s smiling. And when she’s having a good day, she’s always smiling. When Dad was around, he took care of her and made sure she always had a reason to show her pearly whites. He knew exactly what to do to keep her happy, to keep her stable. And when her moods would shift, he kept her sane enough just for me.

That all changed when he got locked up, though. That’s when Mom fell off the deep end and never recovered entirely. She never smiles quite like she did when Dad was around. But for the past twelve years, I’ve been the one looking after her, doing my very best to make sure she still has a reason to smile every day.

“Who is this tall glass of water?” Mom asks inquisitively, looking over my shoulder.

“Um…” I begin to stutter when I realize that Fi

“My name is Fi

“Friend, huh? You look more like a heartbreaker to me. You’re not going to break my baby girl’s heart, are you, Fi

Fi

“Momma—”

“Hush, baby. He’s got a mouth on him. He can talk for himself.” She lets out a little giggle.

“No, Ma’am. I’m not going to hurt Stone,” Fi

My own frown surfaces, not liking how he’s unable to meet my mother’s drunkard glare, but I don’t say anything to call him out on it.

“You say that now,” she warns warmly, playfully shaking her finger at him, making Fi

“Momma, stop,” I plead softly.

My mother turns my way and grabs my face gently in between her palms. Even in her worst fits, she was never capable of striking me down or hurting me. When it got really bad for her, she fought hard to keep lucid enough to recognize me. And in her internal battle, even on the days she had no idea who I was, she was always sweet, always kind. Maybe that’s why Dad and I had to be so hard all the time. Because she couldn’t be, and we knew there are plenty of people out there who would love nothing more than to exploit such a tender soul.

“Momma, please.” I try again, hoping she will take the hint and not say anything in front of Fi

She just shakes her head, almost losing her balance, but not enough to dissuade her from saying what is obviously lodged in her throat and needs to come out.

“My baby girl looks tough, but she isn’t, you know? Under all this bravado, she’s fragile and soft, so soft. Just like her daddy. She’s the most precious thing I have, and I don’t know what I’d do without her,” she susurrates, teary-eyed.

“Momma, you’re talking gibberish now. Come on, let me get you cleaned up and take you to bed. You need to sleep it off.”

“But what about Rhett? Are you going to talk to him? Please don’t. I don’t want you near him,” my mother pleas in concern, the last bit of sobriety a

Yeah, like I’m going to go on the lookout to talk to that piece of trash. He’s probably spent my hard-earned money already, shoving whatever he could buy up his vein. That cash is long gone by now, and I’m not going to waste my time trying to get it back. There’s no point.

“He might get angry if you do. Just let it go, baby. I’ll make do somehow,” she continues, her long lashes stuck to the tears she’s shedding out of pure worry for my welfare. God, how I wish she could take care of herself.

“Come on, Momma. I don’t want you to worry about that, okay? I’m going to leave some money in our secret stashing place. But if that asshole comes back, don’t let him in. You hear me?”

“I’m sorry, baby. I know I shouldn’t have opened the door for him. It’s just, I get so lonely sometimes.”

“I know, Momma. I know.” I hug her to my side and make my way to the back of the trailer where her bedroom is. I tilt my head over to Fi

“You can either take a seat or wait outside. I’ll only be a minute.”

“Sure,” he mumbles.

I watch his eyes take in our tiny couch, knowing there’s no way he’ll be comfortable there. I expect him to rush outside, but instead, he looks at the kitchen and stays put.

I don’t have time to placate his need for comfort since I want to make sure Mom is in the safety of her bed. I don’t want to worry that she may end up outside while being this messed up. Not that she would go out willingly on her own, but I’ll rest easier knowing she’s safe, sleeping it off.

She doesn’t complain when I remove her shirt and use a wet towel to wipe the day’s sweat off her skin. Once she’s clean enough, I pull a camisole over her head and help her into the bed.

“He’s very handsome,” she says all of a sudden, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Hmm,” I mumble, straightening up her bedsheet.

“Do you like him?”

“I like him enough.”

“I think you like him more than enough,” she singsongs.

“Hmm.”

“Just be careful, baby. First loves have a way of hurting more than the others,” she adds with a cautious tone to her slurred words. Her eyes look up at the heavens, and whatever is on her mind steals the little smile on her face, turning it into a saddened frown. “I miss your father,” she laments softly, finally revealing what ails her.