She took my hands in hers. “Maybe I expect too much of you,” she whispered. “You’ve been the rock around here ever since your father passed. We need you. Teri’s having a difficult time. The last thing I need is to worry about you. Please don’t drive if you’re drinking. Give me a call, or call Teri. We’ll come get you. Try not to have too much to drink. It’s not good for you.”
I sighed. “Mom, don’t worry. I’ve been drunk twice in my life. I don’t drink a lot. I’m not going to start. I’ll keep it under control, OK?”
She nodded, but I still saw the concern. “You can have your friends over here. If you’re going to drink, I’d rather you did it in the basement, as long as none of you got drunk. Think about it.”
I had, but among other things, I didn’t want Teri subjected to my friends. She was vulnerable, and to be honest, some of them were butt-heads when it came to girls. “I will. Trust me, Mom, alright?”
That was the end of that conversation, but she did convince me to think about what I was doing when I went out with the guys. I didn’t bring up the case of beer sitting in the trunk of my car. That would have just caused trouble.
* * *
We weren’t wealthy, far from it. The insurance after Dad’s accident went into the bank, as did the settlement with the company whose truck had hit him. Teri’s medical bills had been paid for. The mortgage insurance paid off the house. What it meant was we had a lot of money, but it stayed in investments. The return on those supplemented Mom’s income, and we had enough to get by on, but we lived frugally.
I had earned the money for my car working part-time, although Mom paid the insurance. My schooling was a bargain, attending a state school. But if I wanted spending money for the year, I’d need to find a job. Summers and Christmas break, that was when I earned my spending money for the year. Besides, I wanted to get Teri something nice for Christmas, and I was kind of broke. Not totally, but it was worrisome.
Teri had never worked. I didn’t hold it against her when Mom gave her a car, even though I had to work for mine. Teri had it harder, school work didn’t come as easy to her, and standing for long periods was a strain on her injured legs.
Mom had already gone into work. Teri came over and sat beside me in the living room, while I pored over the want ads. She grabbed the beer I had, and took a long drink.
“Don’t,” I said. “Mom’ll kill me.”
She ignored me and took another sip. “Looking for a job?”
I nodded, circling another possibility. “How about you? You ever think about getting one?” She hadn’t been out of the house since getting home the other night, after her fiasco, whatever it was. Maybe a job would get her off her butt.
“Maybe. I don’t know.” She was quiet, no life in her voice. I hated to see her that way.
I went down to the basement fridge, where I’d stashed the beer from the night before. I grabbed a couple more and headed back upstairs. I sat beside her, and moved the papers out of the way. She was still drinking, and I could swear she was forcing herself to. She didn’t appear to be enjoying it.
“Tastes like crap, doesn’t it?” I said, taking a drink from my newly opened bottle.
She choked on the beer, coughing, and looked up at me, with almost a smile. Her slender arm rose up and wiped her mouth. “Yeah, why do you drink this stuff?”
“You get used to it. I like the buzz. Takes the edge off.”
“What’s it like to get drunk, Travis?” she asked.
And there she was. My sister, the curious little tag-a-long who always came to me with her questions. Her eyes had a little life, and the corner of her mouth turned up in a bit of a smirk. I’d missed her.
“Stupid. It’s fun to have a few, it makes your troubles go away, everything seems fun, happy, for the most part. Some people are stupid or mean drunks, and you want to stay away from them, but most of my friends just do it to let go.”
I opened the other beer, and passed it to her, before continuing. “Getting really drunk? That sucks. You say stupid things, do stupid things. You feel like crap the next morning. Finding that line between buzzed and bombed is something you have to learn, and then avoid crossing like the plague.”
She listened as if what I said mattered, and took another small sip. She had a way of paying full attention to me, that made me feel older, important. “I guess you can get used to this stuff. I’d rather drink soda or iced tea.”
Which gave me an idea. Mom had a decent bar. She didn’t drink much, but she felt the need to be able to entertain a guest when we had one. “Wait here,” I told my sister, and made the second choice that led me down the circumstances of that school break. Again, I swear, I wasn’t thinking of where it might lead, it was a spur of the moment decision.
A few minutes later I placed the large tumbler in my sister’s hands. “Try that. It’s a Long Island Iced Tea.”
She took a sip and looked up at me in surprise. “That’s pretty good. It has alcohol in it?”
No shit. About a six pack’s worth. Maybe more. “Yeah, but it’s not like beer, is it?”
She took a long sip, knocking down about a quarter of the glass. “Nope. Lots better.”
She leaned back, sipping, looking at me. I could almost see the gears churning away upstairs.
“You want to talk about it? I know something bad happened the other night,” I said.
She shut down, a wall slamming closed behind her eyes. “No.”
Too early. “I’m sorry I brought it up. Forget it.”
She practically snarled, “Yeah, I wish it were that easy.” Damn, that wasn’t good. I wondered how bad she’d been hurt. I felt my ire returning. Somebody was definitely getting an ass kicking.
I leaned back, quiet. Whatever she wanted to say, she’d get to eventually.