Things We Didn't Say - By Kristina Riggle Page 0,84
living room on the way to the linens, I see Casey is snoring, taking up the whole couch.
I nudge her with my finger. She doesn’t move.
I suppose I could scoop her up and carry her to bed, like I might Jewel if she fell asleep on the couch.
Or she could stay there in her drunken sleep and throw up in her hair.
“Mal, you can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Oh come on, just sleep in the bed. I won’t touch you, promise. I’ll stay way over on the other side.”
I hesitate, imagining what Casey would think if she saw us.
Mallory laughs bitterly at my hesitation. “I think I can resist your incredible allure.”
“Don’t bust my balls now, okay?”
Casey snores. Given her drunkenness, she’ll probably sleep until noon. I don’t relish the thought myself of sleeping on the wood floor, or trying to find a sleeping bag right now. Nor do I feel like making my children’s mother sleep on the floor, especially considering—miracle of miracles—she’s the sober one.
“Fine. I’m too tired to care.”
I drag myself upstairs, brush my teeth, and fall into bed, welcoming the sleep that overtakes me like a Mack truck.
“Daddy!”
Jewel is jumping on my chest.
I squint at her with eyes unfamiliar with bright daylight in my bedroom; I am typically up before the sun.
“Dylan’s home! He’s home!” She jumps a couple more times and I cough with her weight, but smile at her glee. I straighten her glasses and then pull her down for a kiss on the nose. “Yes, he is.”
“Hi, honey!”
“Mommy? You’re in Daddy’s bed again?”
I’d forgotten. Casey passed out on the couch.
Mallory stretches out her hand and ruffles Jewel’s hair, then pulls her in for a hug. Jewel burrows into the covers between us, and slips one slender arm around each of our necks. “Yay! Just like it used to be!”
I prop up on my elbow and put my serious Dad face on. “Hon, it’s just because Casey fell asleep on the couch and we didn’t want to move her.”
Mallory catches my eye over Jewel’s head.
“So Dylan’s awake?” I ask Jewel, craning my neck to see my alarm clock. Ten in the morning. This is late for me.
“Yeah, he made us pancakes.”
“He did?”
Mallory says, “Aw, what a great kid.”
I want to ask Jewel if he’s talked about last night, but she’s just a child. I don’t want her in the middle of this any more than she already is.
Knowing Dylan, he’s not saying anything, anyway.
I sit up and pull on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from the basket of unfolded laundry. Casey normally folds the laundry right away. But normal is out the window.
Downstairs, I go first to the kitchen. Dylan is turning a pancake over onto a plate next to the stove. The stack is already about six pancakes high. Angel is at the table, texting. She’s already showered and dressed.
“Planning to feed an army?” I ask Dylan. I grab him in a sideways hug around the shoulders.
He blushes a little, and doesn’t answer.
“Thanks, pal,” I say.
He points with the spatula to the coffeemaker. He made some coffee, too. Would that I could forget all that happened, just ignore it all and go back to the way it was, and enjoy the fact that my son made us breakfast.
I pour some coffee, and Angel says, “Dad, can I go to a party tonight?”
“Geez, Angel, let me get my eyes open here, first. And good morning to you, too.”
She rolls her eyes at me.
The coffee’s too bitter, so I splash in some milk and with a sigh of resignation go to check on Casey.
I hear the shower turn on upstairs. Must be Mallory, freshening up. Good. I don’t need her hovering over my shoulder.
The bright sun reflecting off the snow outside bounces into the room and puts Casey in a spotlight. She’s got dried spittle in her hair, and she’s sprawled in much the same position as we left her last night.
She hardly looks like the girl I proposed to.
I crouch down next to her face and shake her elbow. I have to do this twice.
She groans to life and immediately throws her arm over her eyes.
“Oh, God,” she says.
“Well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” I wish that had come out playful, instead of hard.
Casey cringes under her arm. “I’m sorry,” she squeaks out. “I didn’t mean to get . . . I didn’t . . . Mallory convinced me.”