August and Then Some by David Prete Read Free Book Online

my mom?
    â€œHome?” I say like she’s joking.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhere’s that?”
    â€œWith me.”
    â€œNot an option, Mom.”
    She nods her head and purses her lips as if she was expecting a response like that. She reaches up to touch my peach-fuzz hair. “You don’t look very good.”
    I duck away from her hand. “Me? Look at the eyes on you.”
    â€œThat all you’ve been doing?” Now she looks me back in the eye and I notice a familiar distant gaze, a clear film covering the emotions in her eyes. I recognise it from when she’s gotten one of her doctor friends to prescribe her sleeping pills. “Little Xanax too?”
    She lets out a sigh so distinctly defeated that I’m sure I’ll be able to reproduce it on my deathbed. “How any other way can I sleep?”
    â€œLot of Xanax. You got any for me.”
    â€œI’ll get fired.”
    â€œOh, please. I gotta get to my train.”
    I’m able to take one step down before she says, “Wait.”
    â€œI’m late. Whudda you want?”
    She reaches into her shoulder bag and pulls out an envelope.
    â€œI don’t need that.”
    â€œBut Jake, look at you. Your shoulder bones are sticking out. You can’t be eating.”
    â€œI eat great. Thank you.”
    â€œThen take it to go to the dentist or something.” She emphatically extends it in my direction. “I mean what if something happens to you and you have to go to the doctor? Or the hospital? Take it.”
    â€œI’ll take some Xanax.”
    â€œI insist you take it.”
    â€œI insist you put it away.”
    She drops her arm, still holding the envelope at her side. “You can’t do whatever it is you think you’re doing by yourself. Our counselor won’t say that, but we all know it. You can’t take this one alone.”
    â€œI’ve taken many things alone.”
    She shakes her head like she pities me. “Look. You tried something, Jake. OK? And I know it’s almost more than I can say for myself. It wasn’t the smartest thing, but I get it OK? You wanted to fix things.”
    I point directly at her chest and say, “Someone had to.”
    For this she slaps my face. Which stuns us both for a few seconds.
    â€œJesus, this is like the family habit. We don’t smoke, but we can backhand with the best of em. I wonder if the courthouse security cameras caught that one.” I do jumping jacks on the stairs. “Hey, coppers. Judges. You getting this?”
    And for this I get three slaps in the mouth. Then she vices my face between her palms. “Goddamn you. Stop the fucking sarcasm.” She lets go of me. “Get real. There’s things we’re not going to say in there. We both know that. But don’t you get it? I’m forgiving you.”
    â€œYOU’RE forgiving ME?”
    â€œYes. And neither one of us can afford for you to not accept that.”
    â€œWhy’s that?”
    â€œBecause we’re already family; we don’t need to be enemies on top of that.”
    I take my time backing off her and taking the steps down again. Behind me she says, “You could stop hating him.”
    â€œI don’t.”
    â€œYes you do. You’re afraid of him. He’s got a way of scaring people for good. Trust me.”
    â€œI’ll take some Xanax.”

Purple dress, red painting
    Me and Dad would crouch down on the linoleum kitchen floor, only five of his two hundred seventy pounds rolling over his belt. He’d shake the dice in his fist, blow on them and say, “Multiplication,” then I’d call out how many pennies I’d want to bet. I’d put up my change, he’d roll the dice, they’d clink against the wall and stop. “Quick: five times four,” he’d say, then swipe them up.
    â€œTwenty.”
    â€œRight.” And he’d give me my payout.
    Again, he’d