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CHAPTER 22
“Mom. Mom.” The words drill into me, splitting my skull in two and making me feel like I’m falling into some abyss of pain. “Mom.” A hand rolls me over and my stomach boils and bubbles.
“What the fuck?” I say, pushing away at the intruder. “If you’re here to kill me, just do it already.”
“I’m not here to kill you, though I’m sure you would rather I did. It’s time to get up. The competition is in an hour.”
“What? What competition?” I moan and throw my arm over my eyes.
“Maxx. Key West. You’re going to be late.”
“Oh my God!” Throwing the blankets off I bounce out of bed and nearly vomit from the sheer fury of my hangover. The room spins and I lose my balance, my arms flailing in front of me. My kid catches me before I hit the floor, easing the impact, but unable to fully prevent it. And boy does it hurt. Everything feels shattered as my knees take the full brunt of the fall, my wrists following suit.
“Mom, are you okay?” Reese nearly screams.
“I’m gonna be sick!” I don’t know how I make it to the toilet, other than it must have been god’s will to give me this one thing today and not puke all over the carpet. After a while, when all I’m doing is dry heaving, I sit back and let Reese wipe me. “Don’t ever do this.”
“You don’t have to worry about that.”
“Of course not.” My kid’s not as stupid as I was. Am, rather. “Sorry you have to clean this, kid.”
“You cleaned me when I was a baby.” She smiles down into my face, then scrunches her nose. “You stink. And now you have forty-five minutes. Let’s get you showered.”
“I can’t do this. How can I go like this? I’ve ruined my chances!” I cry out.
“Don’t say that. I will not let you give up.” Reese moves the hair stuck to my forehead.
“Why, oh why didn’t I listen? Damn me!”
“Stay here,” she commands, not that I have the strength to do anything else. She’s back in a flash with two sports drinks and pain pills. “You need to drink these and take these.”
She helps me up, propping me up against the sink. I do as she says while she sets the shower, then she keeps me from tipping as I undress. Pressing my head against the shower wall, I take in deep breaths. I’m dying. There is no way I can survive today. I am my own worst enemy. How could I have done this? Me, who preaches on the evils of drinking, especially to excess! There is simply no excuse other than stupidity.
I allowed my inner defiant child to control me. Now the very thing that I’ve worked so hard for is on the line.
“Kid, I don’t know how I can do this. I feel awful,” I tell her as she washes my back.
“Well, you need to suck it up, Mom. I’m not letting you give up without a fight. Who knows, maybe Dean drank himself into a stupor, too.”
I groan because we both know there is no way Dean would ever lose control the way I did.
“One can hope,” I say with a fake smile.
“Aunt Liz and Sher are on their way with a breakfast that’s about to save your life.”
“Fast food?” I ask hopeful. Grease and processed carbs. While generally I avoid them like the plague, today they will be my best friends. Anything to absorb this alcohol still sloshing in my gut. Though they may also weigh me down on a day where I need to really move. Oh shit, who cares, I need it!
“How’s the hangover?” Liz asks when she walks in.
I don’t answer because I’m so desperate I take the bag from her and tear into the breakfast egg and hash brown sandwich, shoving it in my mouth as fast as I can. My stomach is on fire!
“Fanks,” I say around a bite, little chunks of bread spraying her.
Liz wipes at her shirt in annoyance. “Sure thing.”
“Maybe we should get her some wine. You know, that whole hair of the dog thing,” Sheridan suggests.
“How are you not hungover? You drank more than all of us put together!” I just don’t get it.
