Page 18 of You Were Invited
Annie desperately tried drowning out the screaming match with headphones. Her blaring music barely took the edge off. Unignorable, the hollowness in Annie’s stomach and heart curled up beside her in her bed, blankets wrapped tightly about her face and ears. She still felt queasy.
The hazy silliness of the alcohol eventually left her. Her mind came back to a sharpness she’d never felt before, and with it came a deep,miserable sadness. Confusion followed– if feeling this awful came from getting drunk, Annie couldn’t see any reason why Dad would keep drinking the stuff.
Overwhelming tears forced her to rip the suffocating blankets off her head. She bawled silently. It would only make her parents even more angry if they heard her. They didn’t like it much when she cried.
Tangerine dusk light painted her bedroom walls by the time they stopped screaming. Annie lay on her bed, numb and exhausted. The house was eerily quiet except for the clatter of dishes in the kitchen as Mom cooked dinner. Annie suspected Dad was hiding in the garage.
Thoughts urging her to get up and start her Sunday night homework were interrupted by a knock on her door.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Mom said softly. Her eyes were puffy, and her normally feminine features were stiff.
Drawing in her lower lip, Annie nodded.
Mom came and sat down on the corner of the bed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I wish your dad would stop drinking.” She looked down at her lap and fiddled with one of her rings. “Love isn’t supposed to hurt.”
Annie sat up, crawled to her mom, and hugged her. Annie wanted to say something to make it all better, but she couldn’t find the words. She sniffled.
“I… He wasn’t always like this, though. When we first got married– that’s when it started. I didn’t think much of his drinking. At first. I loved him so much, but eventually it got worse. I couldn’t keep my head in the sand. Don’t stay for a man like your dad…”
Annie watched her Mom in stunned silence.
“And… Just promise me… A man like your dad will only pull you down with him, so promise you won’t stay with him, because you’ll only keep getting hurt. Things don’t work themselves out. You can’t save them from themselves. And sometimes you have to let go and run.”
“What does that mean?” Annie frowned. “Am I going somewhere? Mom?” Her hands began to shake.
“N-no. It’s a promise for when you’re older.” Mom gave her trembling hand a quick squeeze. “When you get married one day.” Mom sighed. “You’ll remember this, and I promise it’ll make sense one day. Just promise you’ll run if a man ever treats you like your dad treats me.”
“Okay.” Annie hated the “when you’re older,” line. It was the adult way of dodging a question. But arguing about it would only upset Mom more. Annie’s thoughts raced, trying to grasp the gravity of what felt like a warning. She supposed she wouldn’t want to stay with a boy who was mean to her. Mom’s words echoed in her young mind.
Like your dad…
Annie knew Dad wasn’t perfect. Wasn’t like other dads. But to hear Mom actually say he was… bad…? She hugged Mom tighter.
“I promise.”
“And remember.” Mom’s voice was gentle yet firm. “Be strong. And don’t look back.”
seven
Wounded beasts rarely led to reasonable conversations, and Chris was as sullen as they came. Annie regretted even picking up the phone when he’d called the next afternoon.
“Sure things aren’t amazing,”he gushed, “and we’re both feelin’ neglected… We can work this out, babe. We’ve always made it work.”
Annie clutched her phone and scooted further down into the family room couch. “I’ll get my things soon,” she said. “You don’t have to pack for me… But if you could save some boxes–”
“I love you, Annie, very much. So goddamn much. Nobody understands me like you do. Just tell me what even started this.”
“I… I know we both want the best for each other, and I don’t think that’seach other.”
“I don’t understand... Look. I’m sorry. Is that what you want to hear?”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “And...?”
“...And... What? I said sorry.”
“For what? Say for what.” Asking for a real apology was a waste of breath. Demanding that he stop partying was pointless. “N-nevermind. I don’t blame you for our differences, but I should’ve known that a… people person… wasn’t going to be my bestmatch. That’s unfair to you. I’m sorry for making you worry.”
“You still won’t tell me where you are,”he replied dully.
