Mom had to drive because Dad had to many beers again. Loose cement pebbles bounced beneath the tires, headlights shined against the garage door. The Daniel’s were finally home. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, Tim hopped out the rear of the lease. Slamming the door, he dug in his back pocket for his key. He’d always tried his best to block it out but his dad hadn’t been the best since he lost his job. Trying not to think about the vacation from Hell, Tim flopped back on to his bed. His Star Wars sheets jumped and fell with him. Pushing his big toe into his heel he kicked off his warn out Vans. His chest rose and fell like the Roman Empire.
Mom and Dad bickered in the car, hadn’t stopped bickering since the trip started. This time they were so loud Tim could hear his mothers’ high-pitched voice scolding Dad from the closed window on the third floor. The fighting became the norm. Not even a family get-away to the Poconos could fix Dad, bars and young college girls only made matters worst. They still had some money to spare but Dad drinking had only gotten worse.
Massaging his fingertips through his hair Tim examined his neighbors from his window. Filling in the blanks to their conversations, he imagined the perfect family. Always amused, cuddled on the couch, Tuesday’s they played Wii boxing, tacos on Wednesday, Thursday was movie night. Tim could only imagine how life could be. Mom and Dad interrupted his fantasy with a loud slam of the front door.
Leaning over the wooden banister, Tim peered into the kitchen. Dad’s silhouette poured a full-glass of wine. Dad always spun it around three times creating a whirlpool. He’d throw his head back chug and pour another. Pushing back, the wooden stool scratched the floor, the drawer rolled open and snapped shut, the stove ticked; flames. Cigarette smoke polluted the house; Mom hated that. The stench leaked underneath the master bedroom door. Yelling, again. “You don’t understand me” exchanged several times. Mom grabbed a handful. She threw loafers, collared shirts and pant suits down the stairs, “Get out and don’t come back until you have a job or are enrolled in AA.”
The loafer left a dirt mark on the wall. Dad scooped up all of his things, his knees wobbled leading him to the door. Front. Side. Back. Front. Back. Side. Almost tipping, Dad latched on to the hook where he hung his keys.
Nights had been like this for several months. Mom went back to her room, Tim stood at the doorway. Mom stuffed her face into her pillow. The Cali king looked empty, the situation didn’t reconcile with the photo above. Tim’s shadow filled the room. Mom lifted her head and dropped it drowning in her hair, “Yes Timmy?”
“You okay?” Dry heaving she ignored the question. Tim patted her leg, “Just get through tomorrow.”
The sun peeked into the window, warming Tim’s face while he lay at the foot of her bed. He reached over but Mom wasn’t there. Stretching his arms out he grabbed the comforter pulling it over, cocooning himself back to sleep. Fighting against the sun his eyes squinted, he rolled over to look at the clock and let out a loud moan. Almost 8. Not as early as Tim was used to but he couldn’t get back to sleep. Wondering down stairs Tim looked for Mom. He avoided spots of the white carpet that were tinted pink from the stains from Dads wine. “Mom?” he hollered around the corner. No answer. He skipped back up stairs, “Mom?”
“I’m in here Timmy,” Mrs. Daniel was folding clothes in the guest bedroom. She’d always liked to fold clothes, this is the only time she’d ever felt order in the house. Tim leaned against the dresser and flicked the metal handles. “If it breaks you’re grounded,” Tim flicked it one more time before leaving the room.
“Did Dad get back last night, he wasn’t on the couch in the living room is he in--“ the phone rang, they both looked over. Tim’s graduation photo from 8th grade caught her eye, she tried to be strong but her heart felt heavy. She brushed away the salty tear from her cheek and wiped it on her pants.
“That’s probably him, don’t answer. If he texts or calls you ignore him. And if he so much as shows up at this house act like no one is home.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little messed up?” the phone rang again. 5 minutes then Moms carnival ringtone went off. Tim couldn’t remember it getting this bad, but soon enough he couldn’t remember a time before this. Ignoring calls, not talking for days, and arguing. Time after time, Tim remembered trying to make them talk it out. But Dad loved his whiskey and late nights more than Tim and Mom. That’s just the way it went... The way it goes.
Mom had an armful of socks to match up but the doorbell interrupted her. “Timmy look out the door and make sure it’s not your good-for-nothing father,” she went back to pairing, “if it is, don’t answer.” Tim squinted one eye and peered with the other out of the peephole.
“Mom” he screamed up the stairs, “come down here!”
She side skipped down the stairs, cracking the door open. “We aren’t interested in buying anything thank you though,”
Putting her foot in the door before Mrs. Daniel could close it the girl shouted, “I’m 26 weeks pregnant with your husbands son.”