Page 9 of Whiskey Lullaby
“Nah, if I were homeless, I’d have a beard.” He begrudgingly headed down the stairs as I walked to Momma’s room. A small twinge tightened my chest. Bo was only sixteen, and while he thought he was a grown-up, he was not. I wasn’t even a grown-up. As hard as everything with Momma had been for me, I knew it had to be harder onBo.
When I pushed open the door to Momma’s bedroom, she was sitting up in bed, reading.That’s good. She’s sitting up and reading and it doesn’t matter what those tests said because she looks better and—Hope. I understood why so many of my patients’ families had hope when they knew they really shouldn’t: it is the only way you canmanage.
“Hey, baby,” she said, smiling as she placed a bookmark between the pages and set the book on the nightstand. “How waswork?”
“Good.” I stepped beside the bed and took a seat. Now that I was closer, I saw she didn’t look better, healthier. She looked fragile and tired. That hope was quickly consumed by the panicked question of, “how much longer”? I fought that thought away and I smiled at her, pretending everything wasokay.
“That’s good. I’m sure Doctor Murray is happy to have youthere.”
“He said I was almost as good a nurse as youwere.”
A small smile touched her lips, and I swallowed as heavy guilt perched on my shoulders. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to do anything but pretend this was okay, that this was normal. “You hungry?” I asked, shoving my anxieties deep down. “I’m gonna fix some spaghetti… Bo put a Totino’s Party Pizza in the oven and incineratedit.”
Momma laughed. “Well, did he at least take it off the cardboard thistime?”
“Yes, he at least didthat.” A short-lived chuckle slipped through my lips. “Do you feel likedinner?”
I saw in her eyes that she didn’t feel like moving, so I gave her hand a little squeeze. “Why don’t I just bring it uphere?”
She patted my cheek. “You’ve always been such a sweet soul, Hannah.Nurturing…”
“Learned from thebest.”
She grinned before settling back on her pillow, and I quietly slipped into the hall and down to the kitchen where a pot was boiling over on the stove. The water popped and hissed as it splashed onto the eye. “Seriously?” I grumbled, moving the pot to the side and turning down theheat.
The screen door to the back porch banged shut Seconds later, Daddy and Bo came stomping into the kitchen. Bo glanced at the pot and shot me a toothy grin. “Sorry.”
“Again, you are going to burn the housedown!”
“Geez Louise, dramaqueen!”
Daddy squeezed Bo’s shoulders as he stepped around him. “Be nice to yoursister.”
I glared at Bo, nostrils flaring. God, I felt like I was eighteen again and someone was about to get grounded. Daddy grabbed a jar of sauce from the pantry and I took it from him. “Who was in that truck?” Iasked.
“Some boy that’s gonna help out thissummer—”
“Thank God,” Bo mumbled. “Maybe I won’t get worked like a packmule.”
Daddy lifted a graying eyebrow athim.
Bo flexed his arm and kissed his baby muscle. “I know I look like I’m made for manual labor, Pops, but this is all forshow.”
“Can your head get anybigger?”
Bo shrugged. Daddy just shook his head. “Well, I don’t know how long he’ll be around for. He’s closer to your age, Hannah. Been in some trouble, lost his last job. Seems like a good enoughfella.”
Sounds like every boy Daddy’s taken in to help aroundhere.
Some of them changed their ways. Mostdidn’t.
6
Hannah
Meg stood at the end of the kitchen island, tapping her peach nails on the counter. “Come on, Hannah Banana,” shewhined.
I stopped wiping the counter and shot a death glare in her direction. She knew I hated when she called methat.
