Buried by Robin Merrow MacCready Read Free Book Online Page A

written”—she made quotation marks in the air—“through the lens of a scientist.”
    â€œIt’s obvious, Liz. You have the perfect subject at home.”
    She gave me a blank look. “Home?”
    â€œYeah, make it about alcoholism.” I jumped up and ran to my room. I came back with all my books. “I don’t need these anymore. You can cover the history of alcohol use, the beginnings of AA, current thoughts, health dangers. Everything.”
    She didn’t look thrilled. “Maybe I’ll make it about drunk driving. Maybe.”
    I got her another soda and opened up a book of affirmations. “Listen to this,” I said. “‘Denial is a river in Egypt.’” I laughed and slapped her knee. “That’s where you are, in denial.”
    Liz was staring at the books like they were poison. She bit her bottom lip. “What are you talking about? I’m not in denial. I know my dad has a problem.”
    She had so much to learn. This would be a great project for her. “What do you think?” I asked.
    She shrugged.
    â€œBrainstorm first,” I said.
    She picked up her notebook and sighed dramatically. “Okay, shoot.”
    â€œAre you waiting for me to come up with the idea?” I shook my head.
    â€œYeah, just get things going for me. You always help me think.”
    â€œOkay. Statistics, family dynamics, and the science of it, like what it does to your body—exactly what it does!” I loved it. The ideas came from nowhere, one after another.
    â€œThis is great, Claude, really great. And we could make a big poster with a timeline of alcohol through the ages.”
    â€œAnd you can use all my books for your bibliography.” I stacked them neatly so the titles showed: The Elephant at the Table; Paddling Denial River; My Journey and Back .
    â€œWill you work with me on it tomorrow?” Liz said. “And after we can study for the English test.”
    â€œWhat test?”
    â€œWhat’s going on with you? You keep missing assignments. That’s so not you, Claude.”
    I shook my head. “Daydreaming, I guess. So when is it?”
    â€œQuiz tomorrow and test next Tuesday.”
    â€œOh, right.” I slapped my head like I’d forgotten the obvious.
    â€œThanks, Claude. I’d be lost without you.”
    â€œThat’s what Mom says.”
    Â 
Mom,
    At group I told everyone that I wrote you a letter to tell you how proud I was of you for going to rehab. I would be if you’d gone. I was proud just before you had your final party and left me. I should have said something. I was just so sick of the relapses, though. I was so tired of it all.
    While you were getting trashed with Gary, I was having dinner with the MacPhees and telling them that you’ d been sober since spring and that this was the longest it had ever been and that I was sure you were cured. I was kind of bragging about you. I didn’t shut up even when I knew I was exaggerating it all.
    I can’t stop thinking about that—how I wouldn’t shut up about you. And at group I told them that you left a message saying you were doing well.
    â€”Claude

4
    THE SCENT OF EARTH on Moonpie’s paws woke me up. He kneaded my chest and thunked down on me. His diesel purr was as loud as Linwood’s lobster boat. I wanted him to stay put. I didn’t want to move anyway. My shoulders and arms ached like I’d been hauling traps or pulling weeds.
    I stood under the shower and let the hot water melt my muscle aches and soothe the headache that was beginning at the back of my neck. I used the nailbrush on my dirty nails while the conditioner soaked into my hair. What had I done to myself? I put on jeans and a shirt and turned on the morning radio show. While the coffee brewed, I painted my fingernails Seashell Pink, and toenails, too. That would hide the dirt better, I thought.
    It was while I was rushing around