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Authors: Sadie Black
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it!” She cries. “I can’t teach her how to avoid those people. I am those people! I’m filled with the same darkness I want to hide her away from.”
“I’m sure you’re just being hard on yourself,” I try to comfort her, or myself. Either way, I don’t think it’s working. “If you really feel that way, I can help you find some help you know. I don’t mind. In fact, I’d be really happy to set it all up for you…”
Her tears dry up, and her blue eyes turn icy as her mood changes again. Dropping her arms from my neck, she crosses them across her chest like she’s trying to fold in on herself. Glancing over at Brooklyn, her smiling face tells me that she hasn’t picked up on her mother’s melt down. Thankfully.
“I appreciate that, Bradley.” Her voice blasts my ears like an arctic breeze. “But, there’s no help you can find me that will make any difference. It’s too late for me.” Her chin trembles as I watch her eyes fill back up with more waterworks. I’m starting to wonder if I should start recording these conversations, surely this level of instability would be admissible in a court case? I know I’ve brought it up to Dwight before, but there must be some kind of loophole we can exploit. “I think the devil is in me at times.” She whispers so low that I run the statement through my mind several times before fully understanding the gravity of what she’s saying.
“Oh?” Try to sound supportive. Cool. Calm. Not like you’re freaking out. “How’s that?” It takes all of my effort to sound nonchalant and to try to keep judgement from my tone.
“Well, I try to stay away from the bottle. You know that” she looks over at me, and I nod, but I have my doubts. “But, he keeps dragging me back down into sin. And it’s getting worse. I make so many mistakes, but I think the devil takes me over, you know? He must because I wake up the next day and don’t remember hours and hours of the night before. It’s just gone. Poof!” She opens her hand like a magician throwing sparkles from her palm at a kid’s birthday party. “But his mistakes aren’t gone. The spending, the partying, the men.” Fat tears fall onto her cheeks as she disappears into her fragmented memories.
“Eileen, that’s just a black out. Everyone who drinks a lot…er, everyone has dealt with that from time to time,” I try to prop her up. There’s no use in tearing her down, not when she still has so much control over Brooklyn’s destiny. The best thing to do is make Eileen feel good about herself and insulate her with as much external help as possible. I still need to sort out another Nanny for her before the day is through.
“Braddy! Come here,” Brooklyn jumps excitedly in the sand, interrupting our conversation. In a way, I’m grateful for the distraction. “Help me on the swing? Come here, Braddy.” She insists, pointing at the smaller set of swings setup for toddlers across the park.
“I’ll be right there, baby.” I look over at Eileen, but she’s back to her almost drugged-state of dreamy smiles and hazy eyes. I take my blessings where I can get them and decide to play with Brooklyn while she’s in a slightly more stable state of mind. If you can call it that. “Ok, Brooklyn! Let’s get you on that swing, honey,” I head over to the prancing, two-year-old bundle of energy.
“No, Braddy. I’m not a honey! I’m a Brooklyn,” she points to her little belly.
“You’re right, Brooklyn.” I laugh this time, unable to contain it. I need to do right by her; I need to figure out how to wrangle custody away from her crazy mother. She deserves more than this. So much more.
Chapter Eleven:
Brianna
I can’t believe this is going to be my life. Untying my apron and peeling it off my diner uniform, I look around at the other waitresses taking over now that I’m off. Jennifer is barely twenty, and Fiona is still just a fresh-faced baby
“I’m sure you’re just being hard on yourself,” I try to comfort her, or myself. Either way, I don’t think it’s working. “If you really feel that way, I can help you find some help you know. I don’t mind. In fact, I’d be really happy to set it all up for you…”
Her tears dry up, and her blue eyes turn icy as her mood changes again. Dropping her arms from my neck, she crosses them across her chest like she’s trying to fold in on herself. Glancing over at Brooklyn, her smiling face tells me that she hasn’t picked up on her mother’s melt down. Thankfully.
“I appreciate that, Bradley.” Her voice blasts my ears like an arctic breeze. “But, there’s no help you can find me that will make any difference. It’s too late for me.” Her chin trembles as I watch her eyes fill back up with more waterworks. I’m starting to wonder if I should start recording these conversations, surely this level of instability would be admissible in a court case? I know I’ve brought it up to Dwight before, but there must be some kind of loophole we can exploit. “I think the devil is in me at times.” She whispers so low that I run the statement through my mind several times before fully understanding the gravity of what she’s saying.
“Oh?” Try to sound supportive. Cool. Calm. Not like you’re freaking out. “How’s that?” It takes all of my effort to sound nonchalant and to try to keep judgement from my tone.
“Well, I try to stay away from the bottle. You know that” she looks over at me, and I nod, but I have my doubts. “But, he keeps dragging me back down into sin. And it’s getting worse. I make so many mistakes, but I think the devil takes me over, you know? He must because I wake up the next day and don’t remember hours and hours of the night before. It’s just gone. Poof!” She opens her hand like a magician throwing sparkles from her palm at a kid’s birthday party. “But his mistakes aren’t gone. The spending, the partying, the men.” Fat tears fall onto her cheeks as she disappears into her fragmented memories.
“Eileen, that’s just a black out. Everyone who drinks a lot…er, everyone has dealt with that from time to time,” I try to prop her up. There’s no use in tearing her down, not when she still has so much control over Brooklyn’s destiny. The best thing to do is make Eileen feel good about herself and insulate her with as much external help as possible. I still need to sort out another Nanny for her before the day is through.
“Braddy! Come here,” Brooklyn jumps excitedly in the sand, interrupting our conversation. In a way, I’m grateful for the distraction. “Help me on the swing? Come here, Braddy.” She insists, pointing at the smaller set of swings setup for toddlers across the park.
“I’ll be right there, baby.” I look over at Eileen, but she’s back to her almost drugged-state of dreamy smiles and hazy eyes. I take my blessings where I can get them and decide to play with Brooklyn while she’s in a slightly more stable state of mind. If you can call it that. “Ok, Brooklyn! Let’s get you on that swing, honey,” I head over to the prancing, two-year-old bundle of energy.
“No, Braddy. I’m not a honey! I’m a Brooklyn,” she points to her little belly.
“You’re right, Brooklyn.” I laugh this time, unable to contain it. I need to do right by her; I need to figure out how to wrangle custody away from her crazy mother. She deserves more than this. So much more.
Chapter Eleven:
Brianna
I can’t believe this is going to be my life. Untying my apron and peeling it off my diner uniform, I look around at the other waitresses taking over now that I’m off. Jennifer is barely twenty, and Fiona is still just a fresh-faced baby
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