Sweet Nothing - Page 52/89

Avery struggled to keep a straight face.

“You’ll be back before you leave?” His question was more of a warning. I nodded, letting him pull me in for another hug.

Avery spoke up as he released me and embraced her. “I will make sure of it.”

“All right, old man. That’s enough. Let my girl go.”

Dad stepped back as he looked us over, nodding approvingly.

“You did good, son. You did real good.”

“Thanks, Dad, but I already knew that,” I said with a grin. I hooked my arm around Avery’s shoulders and walked with her back to the car.

After stuffing ourselves with sashimi, teriyaki chicken, and chicken fried rice around Mother’s kitchen table, Avery went into my old bedroom to take a quick shower.

Mom was stumbling around the kitchen while Avery dressed for bed. Avery groaned from the bathroom, and I knocked on the door.

“Everything okay?”

“Fine!” she said with the chipper voice she only seemed to have around my mom.

I joined Mom in the kitchen, watching her pour herself another drink.

“Hey. Why don’t you ease up since Avery’s here,” I chided.

“Mind your business,” she grumbled.

Avery appeared, forcing a smile. She waved me away when she saw the concern on my face.

“You look a little green, young lady,” Mother said, talking with her glass of bourbon.

“Fine,” Avery said, sitting at the table. “I feel fine.”

“Well, you don’t look it,” Mom snapped.

“Jesus Christ, Mom. C’mon.”

Avery shook her head, silently asking me to stand down.

“How was the drive down?” Mom asked. “Besides the constant bathroom breaks, of course,” she said, eyeing me.

“Fine,” Avery said, pressing her lips together. A thin sheen of sweat formed on her skin. She swallowed.

“Baby,” I said, reaching across the table.

“I’m f—” Before she could finish, Avery covered her mouth and ran down the hall to my room. Sounds of her heaving traveled to the kitchen, and Mom shot me a smug look.

I chased after my girlfriend, stopping in the bathroom doorway. The mirror was still fogged from her shower.

“Go away, please,” she whimpered, spitting into the toilet. “Oh, God …” She heaved again.

“You were feeling fine earlier. Maybe it was the candy?”

“Food poisoning. Has to be the Japanese,” she said before hurling again. “I’m dying. I’m going to die.”

“I’ll get you a cool rag.”

“Thank you. Then please leave. I don’t want you to see this. It’s going to get ugly really fast.”

I rubbed her back, knowing exactly what she meant. I wouldn’t want her to see me like that, either.

I fetched her a cold rag and then shut the door behind me. “I’m going to check on you in ten minutes,” I said through the door.

“Please don’t.”

I pulled back my old gray and black comforter, and then placed a garbage can on the floor. Mother was still in the kitchen, watching me search through the cabinets for a clean glass.

“For fuck’s sake, Mom. Glasses.”

“Watch your language,” she said. “Water bottles in the fridge.”

“You have something to say?” I asked, grabbing two bottles of Aquafina.

“I didn’t say anything.”

I spun around to see her struggling to light her cigarette from a match, her eyes nearly closed.

I sat the bottles on the counter and took the matches from her. She watched me with a frown and heavy eyes as I effortlessly tore one away from the matchbook and lit it for her.

Leaning toward the flame, she puffed and then exhaled, enveloping her face in a cloud of smoke before inhaling and choking out a cough.

“I know something is on your mind. Spit it out.”

“She’s sick, huh?” Mother blew out a cloud of smoke and I waved it away.

“She’ll be fine by morning. It’s been a long trip. The cigarette smoke isn’t going to help, if you’re wondering.”

“I wasn’t,” she said, blowing out another puff. “So, this is why you’re really here? You got another girl knocked up and now you want my help.” Still the mother I remembered. After Kayla had drowned, she didn’t enjoy life sober.

I laughed once. “You can’t be serious. How could you help anyone in this shape?”

“I’m not pregnant.” Avery’s voice was quiet.

I spun around to see her leaning against the kitchen wall in one of my T-shirts and basketball shorts, her chin beginning to quiver.

“Avery,” I breathed. I grabbed the bottles of water and walked toward her. When I reached out for her, she held up her hand to keep me back.

She took a water from my hand. “I feel better. I’m going to bed.”

“I’ll come with you,” I said.

I glared over my shoulder at my mother, hoping it would be the last time I’d have to look at her.

Following Avery to my room, I twisted the lock on the knob while I watched her climb under the covers.

“Avery, I’m not sure what you heard, but …” I shook my head, unsure of what I was going to say.

“Don’t.” There was no anger in her voice, just exhaustion. She stilled, her back to me.

I peeled off my shirt and then kicked off my shoes and jeans. When I slipped into bed, I was careful not to bounce her around. I wanted to wrap my arms around her, but I didn’t want to make things worse.