She'll Never Be My Mom || (n.j.)

Chapter 5

"Mom's birthday is coming up soon." I tell Dad as we're all sitting at breakfast. By 'all' I mean, Dad, Olivia, and I.

"Yes ma'm 32." Dad responds, drinking his orange juice. Olivia doesn't look too comfortable, but I don't really acknowledge her. Dad and I always talk about memories of Mom at least a week before her birthday. It's what we've always done.

"You done?" Dad asks Olivia, picking up her plate. She silently nods and then makes her way upstairs.

"She looked uncomfortable." I make note to Dad as I pick up my own plate and glass, bringing them to the sink.

"Yeah. But this'll never change kid." He wraps an arm around me and pulls me into his side. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a bottle of Grey Goose on the counter at the end of the kitchen.

"Dad." My voice is stone cold.

"What?" Then he sees where I'm looking and his voice gets softer.

"Brookie, I'm gonna try really hard, okay. I can promise you that baby." He pushes some hair behind my ear and smiles.

"Okay Daddy." I kiss his cheek and clean up the rest of the breakfast table.

"Wanna look through photo albums?" He asks, wiping up the table.

"Definitely." I smile, feeling confident in my Dad. Usually around this time, he starts to drink a little more, but he hasn't gotten as bad as was when Mom died. He's come close though.

Dad goes upstairs and I follow, going to my own room. I dress for the day in simple yoga pants, a black t-shirt with the Nike symbol on it, and a blue cardigan. I slip on some tennis shoes and put my hair up in a ponytail. My outfit is now complete. As I grab the photo album from the closet, I hear my Dad and Olivia talking outside in the hall.

"Nick, baby, it's just uncomfortable."

"I know Liv. Can you try? For me?" Dad pleads.

"I'll be back later." Olivia tells him, not letting Dad persuade her into staying. Thank you.

"Don't go." Dad's voice gets quieter. Then I hear kissing noises and just occupy myself with doing something else. When I close my closet door, I don't hear anyone in the hallway anymore. So I make myself present in the living room and see Dad sitting on the couch by himself.

"Hey Dad." I greet him with a small wave.

"Hey pumpkin." I go sit next to him and we start to go through pictures.

~
"Nick!" I hear Olivia yelling downstairs as I'm trying to sleep. Her loud voice actually woke me up. I tried to put my pillow over my head and sleep.

"You need to stop drinking! You're going to hurt yourself!" Olivia was relentless.

"Liv." Dad whined like a little kid.

"No, Nicholas! Give me that bottle!" I'd had enough of listening to this. I got up from my mess of blankets and hopped down the stairs.

"Daddy..." He was a mess. Dad's hair was sticking up in all directions, his eyes were close to being red, and Olivia looked like she was having a hard time with him. She looked over to me and immediately gathered me in her arms.

"Brook, sweetie, why don't you go back upstairs." She suggests, showing a sweet smile. But I refuse.

"I don't want to get taken away from Dad again."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I was taken away from him just a couple of months after my mother died. He was much, much worse then this. So Sam took me away for about a month. Just for Dad to have some alone time and time to get better." Meanwhile, Dad was sitting at the dining room table, drinking a beer.

"Oh...goodness....I had no idea."
"It's fine. I just want him to be okay. I'm not as concerned about myself." I push past her and go sit by Dad at the table.

"Dad, you need to stop." I take the bottle away from him. He glares at me and looks as though he's about to raise his hand. But I know my Dad, and my Dad would never hit me. Or any other woman for that matter.

"Promise you'll stop. Mom's birthday is tomorrow. You've just got to make it through, okay?" Sometimes I feel like I'm the one who has to be strong for Dad through all of this. He nods and then I just look at him. His gaze goes to the bottle in my grasp and I glare at him.

"Up to bed." I grab his arm and pull him off the chair. Olivia just looks bewildered but I walk with Dad to his bedroom. Olivia stays downstairs and I get Dad to go into bed.

"Goodnight Daddy." I kiss his cheek and Dad snuggles into his comforter, murmuring Mom's name. I walk out of the room and go downstairs to put the alcohol away.

"You leaving?" I ask Olivia who's getting on her jacket.

"I just don't think it'd be right for me to be here tomorrow. It's for the best." She smiles and then walks out the door. Once I put the drinks away, I go back up to Dad's room. He's still not sleeping.

"Hey Dad." I climb into bed next to him, laying my head on his chest.

"Brook, you look so much like your mother." He strokes my hair and whispers.

"You tell me that everyday Dad." A smile plays on my lips and hearing my father's broken voice makes the smile fade.

"That day when I got the news. I told your mother that she was strong, that I believed in her."

"I know Daddy." Tears start to come up, but I choke them back before they fall.

"It was so hard to tell you. I told myself for months that I failed you. That I broke my promise to you, because your mommy wouldn't be coming home. And at the funeral, you were so confused as to why we were there. But I couldn't tell you that your mother was dead in the next room. I just couldn't bring myself to do it." His voice cracks more and more with every word.

"I remember." A tear sneaks down my cheek and I bury my face in Dad's chest, letting them fall full force.