you get home?”
“Jennifer called an Uber to take us all home.”
Which means Mom’s car is still at whatever restaurant or home she left it at. When I stare blankly back, she offers me a pathetic smile. “It was Vivian’s birthday.” But then her smile fades and tears well up in her eyes. My forehead furrows as this isn’t my mom. She’s the happy type, especially when there’s alcohol rolling in her veins.
“What?” I lean forward, wondering if she’s going to puke again.
Mom closes her eyes, pressing them so tight that crow’s feet form. “My credit card was denied tonight, and I had to pay cash. I was so embarrassed.”
Of all the issues we’ve had in life, money hasn’t been one of them. “Did someone steal your card?”
She rocks her head against the porcelain. “Your dad didn’t send the child support check.”
My mouth opens in shock, but it doesn’t take long for rage to boil up from my gut. “What?”
“He hasn’t sent anything for the last few months. I make enough money to support all of us, and I didn’t want you guys to be disappointed in him, so I didn’t say anything, but then I had to pay a few unexpected bills, your medical bills, and I forgot that I’d have to pay our mortgage at the old house and a first and last month’s deposit here and then there were costs associated with selling the house and the new house…”
Sweat breaks out along Mom’s forehead, and my stomach turns as I try to understand where this is all headed. Mom’s body shakes as goose bumps form on her arms. “I didn’t realize how much I had put on the card or how low the checking account has become. I’m afraid that the check for this apartment is going to bounce. Our landlord said his daughter was going to deposit it soon. I’ll be fine when I get paid again, but … I’m sorry, Sawyer. I’m sorry.”
And as Mom opens her mouth to say something else, she lifts her head and vomits into the toilet again.
VERONICA
Lucy’s brother is a jerk, their mom is a Dumpster fire, but Lucy is the shining star of the family. After she saw my old dollhouse in the corner of the living room, Lucy quickly forgot her fears. She played for a few minutes, and now she sits at our high kitchen table and swings her legs as she surveys the room with wonder. “There’re a lot of turkeys.”
“There are.” I fish out a box of crackers from the pantry. That’s what little kids like, right?
“Who made them?”
“Me. Would you like to make one?”
“Sure.” Her grin is mostly baby teeth. After opening a package of crackers and sliding them to her, I pull out everything she could think of or need to make a paper turkey—construction paper, crayons, markers, glue, tissue paper and the golden grail of glitter. It takes a few more minutes for me to dig into the bottom of my Tupperware drawer to find safety scissors. I finally find a pink pair, and Lucy seems satisfied with the tubes of glitter she holds up to the light.
“I like it here. It’s happier than downstairs,” Lucy says. “Why do you have so many turkeys?”
“I think the better question is why doesn’t everyone have turkeys hanging on the wall?”
Lucy tilts her head as if my answer was profound then eats a cracker. Crumbs fall from the corner of her mouth.
“How old are you?” I ask.
“Six,” she says through bites. “How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
“My birthday was in July,” Lucy declares. “When’s yours?”
“May.”
“I have one brother and no sisters.”
“I don’t have any.”
“That’s sad.” And her little brown eyes show how serious her words are. “I like having a brother. He’s fun.”
I’m sure he is.
“I’m going to have a new brother or sister in a few months.”
My eyebrows rise. “Your mom is pregnant?”
Lucy shakes her head so fast that her hair flips across her face. “No. The new girl Daddy dates is having a baby. Mommy doesn’t know yet. Sawyer said he’d tell her. I’m glad I don’t have to. I don’t like it when Mommy cries. If Mommy cries, it’s usually during the week. Mommy laughs more on the weekends, but that’s when she gets sick. I don’t like that, either.”
Fantastic, our new tenants aren’t just a dumpster fire, but a wildfire inferno. “So why were you so upset earlier?”
Lucy slows her cracker chewing and sorts through the construction paper until she finds a sensible brown.