Read Online Almost Like Being in Love by Beth K. Vogt - Free Book Online Page B

“Who is it?” The prayer he’d prayed since childhood skittered through his brain:
    God, if you’re there—and I know you are—please, let her just be asleep . . .
    When he opened the door, holding his breath, his mother lay on her bed, her too-thin body tangled up in the comforter and sheets. A pillow was cradled in her arms like a child, her face pressed against it, eyes closed, her brown hair threaded through with gray and pulled into a messy ponytail. A glass sat on the bedside table, and beside it stood a bottle. Cheap and ready comfort. And his mother considered the relief worth the price.
    She’d never know the true cost of her drinking. Never be able to reckon it.
    Quick, silent strides brought him to her bedside. His hand on her shoulder only reinforced how little she weighed—her form skeletal beneath his touch.
    â€œMom? It’s Alex.”
    With a mumble, she buried her face in the pillow.
    He crouched beside her, raising his voice in an attempt to break through her drugged sleep. “Are you hungry? I brought you some lunch.”
    Her lids flickered . . . open . . . shut . . . open . . . revealing bloodshot eyes that held no glint of recognition. “Wha—?”
    â€œAre you hungry?”
    She closed her eyes, lifting her hand in a feeble attempt to push him away. “No . . . go away . . .”
    Alex rose to his feet. Covered his mother with the top sheet. Best to let her sleep it off. She wouldn’t remember he was there. And if she did wake up, she’d only get herself all worked up again, talking to him—and then drink more once he left. He knew the routine well. All too well.
    Once in the kitchen again, he drained the third bottle into the sink and then threw it in the trash, the rattle of glass too loud in the silence that lurked in the house. Grabbing a piece of paper, he scrawled a note and left it on the counter, letting his mother know he’d left the salad in the fridge.
    Crisis averted. Again. He’d report back to his father. He could call Caron and ask her for prayer. But he wouldn’t. Not when she was already so stressed. This kind of day with his mother was nothing new. They’d talk later tonight and she’d know just what to say. At times like this he realized how much he loved her. Needed her. This was one of the reasons they were so right for each other. She knew his secrets. Kept his secrets. Loved him in spite of his secrets.

SIX

    K ade could either ignore the growling of his stomach until he got home and scavenged through the few leftovers in his fridge, make himself a protein shake, or stop and grab something to go and reheat it.
    A guy had to eat.
    He merged into the left-turn lane leading into University Village, mentally scrolling through restaurant options. Tokyo Joe’s. Which Wich. Chipotle. Panera. Noodles & Company. Or he could just drive through Starbucks . . . but his body demanded something more than sugar and caffeine topped off with cream.
    Chipotle. He’d grab a burrito and an iced tea, and get back on the road in less than ten minutes.
    After circling the crowded parking lot twice before finding a parking space, he resigned himself to the reality that his wait at Chipotle might be longer than he’d prefer. He moved between cars, his thoughts scrolling ahead to the work waiting for him at home. He needed to check in with Mitch. Touch base with Eddie Kingston . . .
    He stopped midstride as the driver’s-side door of a white sedan swung open and a woman with short brown hair and sparkly earrings that almost reached her shoulders stepped out.
    â€œOh! I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there—” The woman apologized with a light laugh that ceased altogether when she saw his face. “Kade!”
    â€œHey, Margo, what are you doing here?”
    â€œUm . . . I’m going to