“I’m not surprised, my dear. He was very private about it.”
Annika nods, looking into middle distance, thinking. “I guess I just never really thought about the fact that there was never alcohol in this house.” She looks at Gram. “Did you give it up because he did?”
A shake of her head, bobbed white hair shaking. “No, dear. I never took it up. I’d watched it take my uncle and my older brother, as well as a very good friend of mine. I knew what it could do, and I never touched it. Zeke didn’t take up drinking until after we were married, or I would never have married him. I’ve always felt very strongly about it, and my history with alcoholism made it even harder to watch him fall into it. I was very close with my uncle, and I never really knew my older brother because by the time I was old enough to understand these things, he was already fully in the clutches of the bottle.”
“So you’veneverdrank?”
Another shake of her head. “No, dear. It just never appealed to me.”
Annika lets out a breath. “Wow, Gram. It feels weird to me that I never knew this stuff.”
“Part of growing up is seeing your parents, and I suppose in this case, grandparents, aspeopleand not just as your parents or parental figures. Your grandfather didn’t want you to know. He was embarrassed, later in life, that he’d ever let it get as bad as it did, and wished to simply let it be in the past. His addiction is also a large part of why he was always so understanding and compassionate toward you when you were using.” She sighs. “And why it was so hard for him to watch you go through what you did.”
Annika swallows. “I just…I wish he could see me now. Sober. Clean. Looking forward to…” She shakes her head, shrugs. “Figuring out what I want to do with my life, I guess, now that I feel like I’ve got it back.”
“He would be extraordinarily proud of you, my darling girl.” Gram pats Annika’s hand where it rests on hers. “He would besoproud.”
Annika blinks hard again, heaves a sigh. “Thank you, Gram.”
7Reunited
Annika
There’s a knock at the door, and Gram glances over her shoulder at the green numerals of the clock in the range. “Oh, my goodness. In the excitement of seeing you, I’d almost forgotten they were coming over this evening!”
The knock is followed by a voice. “Mom? Whose car is that out front?”
My mother.
I feel the blood drain from my face. “No, no, no.” I clutch the mug in my hands, my whole body going so tight and tense it hurts. “I’m not ready—I’m not ready!”
Gram twists her hand so she can clutch mine. “Steady now, sweetheart. It’s for the best.” She smiles at me, reassuring and calm. “This was entirely unplanned, of course, since I couldn’t have known you would be coming today, but it really is propitious timing.” Louder, then. “In here, Emily!”
I’m not breathing; I can’t. The last time I saw Mom, I’d stolen three hundred dollars from her and smoked it all, and then stole her car and was caught and arrested for trying to trade it for drugs. She hadn’t pressed charges and she’d gotten her car back intact, but she’d stood in front of me in the police station and told me, tears in her eyes, that she never wanted to see me again.
Erin had held out a bit longer. Continued to take my calls, continued to try to reach me, begging me to get help. It wasn’t until she caught me trying to steal her ATM card—for which I knew the PIN—that she realized how far beyond help I was. She’d ghosted me, then. Refused to speak to me or see me.
After I’d gotten sober, and had six months clean, I’d tried to contact them. I’d left messages saying I was clean, and that I wanted to apologize in person. I’d gotten no response. Still haven’t. And that was over a month ago, almost two months ago, now.
Mom enters the kitchen and stops in the doorway when she sees me, pain flashing in her eyes before they shutter. “Dammit, Mom.” Her voice is cold and angry. “I thought I made it clear—”
Erin catches up behind Mom and moves beside her in the doorway—her hands go to her mouth and her eyes immediately fill with tears. “Nik?” Her choked gasp of my name cuts off Mom.
Gram looks at Mom and lifts her chin. “Come in, my dears.”
“I don’t think so.” Mom begins to turn, not giving me another glance; my heart aches, and my eyes sting as I understand the reconciliation I was hoping for doesn’t seem likely. “Let’s go, Erin.”
Erin ignores Mom. “Nik, honey, are you…” She squeezes past Mom and dodges Mom’s attempt to catch her arm, coming straight to me, sinking to her knees in front of me, hands on my thighs. “Nik. God, Nik. You…you look…”
I nod, tears clogging my throat and blocking my voice; I tangle my fingers together in an anxious knot of white knuckles. “I’m clean, Erin,” I whisper. “Almost eight months.”
“Erin,” Mom snaps, “come.Now.”
Erin looks over her shoulder at Mom. “Lookat her, Mom!” This is snapped, angry. “I told you when she called that we should—”
Mom’s eyes waver. Her chin wobbles. “She made promises before, Erin. She promised she’d get clean. Shetriedto get clean. And she still lied and stole, and—”
Erin shoots to her feet and stomps over to Mom, gesturing at me as she shouts. “She never made it a fuckingweekbefore, though, did she? Look at her, Mom!Lookat her! She’s clean. She’s healthy. She’s here with Gram, and you know Gram wouldn’t—”
