Read Online A Fistful of God by Therese M. Travis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Therese M. Travis
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strong,” someone said.
“Yeah. Thanks. I know it’s coming. If I hadn’t come tonight I’d’ve been pulp.”
After another silence, and he added quietly, “If Mom doesn’t call the cops, pray I live through it so I can.”
I felt movement and glanced back. Stephanie had her arms around Miguel’s shoulders, rocking. His head tipped back, now, his eyes closed, and he leaned into her the way I’d seen Lucas fold into his mother. The sight sent shivers over my arms.
“Praise report.” This time it was Shannon. “I forgot to tell you guys because I was so mad at her, but now I have to say thanks, because I really do love my mom. Anyway, her cancer is in remission.”
Shock ripped through my stomach, and I stared at her. How could someone like Shannon’s mom get cancer? She wouldn’t let it happen, would she?
“And then pray she can let me make some of my own decisions.”
I turned and saw Miguel watching me. He reached out and covered my hand with his, exactly the same way Mom had in the car. I choked and looked up, ready to say a prayer, ask for their prayer, at least. God would listen to them, wouldn’t He, even if He didn’t want to hear from me?
“Anyone else?” Lucy asked the silence. My prayer slithered into my throat and cowered there. I closed my eyes and my mouth and hoped Miguel couldn’t tell what I’d been about to do.
“OK, God, You’ve heard us. Please hear, as well, those prayers unsaid, those too secret to be told. Amen.”
I wanted so badly for my prayer to be one of the ones He heard, anyway.
People began to move, though Miguel stayed next to Stephanie. I sneaked outside and wandered to the far side of the pool in case Miguel came out to check my corner. He didn’t. I squatted on the edge to push at the leaves floating on the surface and took a deep breath.
God, please, help Mom. Don’t let her get drunk tonight. Ever, OK? Make her not want to anymore. Make her not be an alcoholic, please? Oh, I’d gotten to be so daring, hadn’t I, using that word even though no one heard, no one but God. I hoped. Please .
I’d thought praying was meant to make a person peaceful, but I felt worse. Panic burned through me. If I’d wanted Mom to stay sober, I should have stayed with her and made her. I ran into the house. I had to find some way to get home.
The empty kitchen smelled like sweet soda and pizza boxes. Lucy walked in as I froze, fighting the panic. “Oh, Aidyn, I told Miguel you must have gone home. He was looking for you, but he left. I’m sorry.”
“That’s OK. I need to go home, too, but I need—I don’t have a cell phone—”
“Sure, here.” She handed me a cordless from its base on the counter. “Next time you don’t need to ask.”
Jackson came in with a grocery bag stuffed with squashed cans. “Shannon’s waiting. You ready?”
“My mom said she was coming.”
“What time?’
“Ten. I told her ten.” I wrapped my arms around me and shook.
Lucy looked at the clock. “She’s late. I bet she fell asleep.” She grinned. “My mom always used to do that. It drove me crazy.”
Falling asleep was so different from passing out.
I dialed but our line was busy. I shook so badly I couldn’t get the phone into the cradle. Past ten, Mom would not have called her sponsor so late. Joyce, sure. Joyce stayed up all hours, drinking. Encouraging Mom to take another drink.
God, why couldn’t You have answered even one of my prayers?
I looked around and saw Shannon hanging onto Jackson’s arm, frowning. She knew.
“I’ll call my mom.” I jerked to stare at Jackson while he dialed. “Mom, I need to give Aidyn a ride home after all. Her mom didn’t make it, and she’s kind of upset—”
How did he know?
“OK, OK,” he finished. He turned to me. “She said to wait another fifteen minutes, and if your mom’s not here, to go ahead and take you.”
“Fine. Whatever.” He was doing me a favor, I wouldn’t argue. I thanked Lucy and stumbled to
“Yeah. Thanks. I know it’s coming. If I hadn’t come tonight I’d’ve been pulp.”
After another silence, and he added quietly, “If Mom doesn’t call the cops, pray I live through it so I can.”
I felt movement and glanced back. Stephanie had her arms around Miguel’s shoulders, rocking. His head tipped back, now, his eyes closed, and he leaned into her the way I’d seen Lucas fold into his mother. The sight sent shivers over my arms.
“Praise report.” This time it was Shannon. “I forgot to tell you guys because I was so mad at her, but now I have to say thanks, because I really do love my mom. Anyway, her cancer is in remission.”
Shock ripped through my stomach, and I stared at her. How could someone like Shannon’s mom get cancer? She wouldn’t let it happen, would she?
“And then pray she can let me make some of my own decisions.”
I turned and saw Miguel watching me. He reached out and covered my hand with his, exactly the same way Mom had in the car. I choked and looked up, ready to say a prayer, ask for their prayer, at least. God would listen to them, wouldn’t He, even if He didn’t want to hear from me?
“Anyone else?” Lucy asked the silence. My prayer slithered into my throat and cowered there. I closed my eyes and my mouth and hoped Miguel couldn’t tell what I’d been about to do.
“OK, God, You’ve heard us. Please hear, as well, those prayers unsaid, those too secret to be told. Amen.”
I wanted so badly for my prayer to be one of the ones He heard, anyway.
People began to move, though Miguel stayed next to Stephanie. I sneaked outside and wandered to the far side of the pool in case Miguel came out to check my corner. He didn’t. I squatted on the edge to push at the leaves floating on the surface and took a deep breath.
God, please, help Mom. Don’t let her get drunk tonight. Ever, OK? Make her not want to anymore. Make her not be an alcoholic, please? Oh, I’d gotten to be so daring, hadn’t I, using that word even though no one heard, no one but God. I hoped. Please .
I’d thought praying was meant to make a person peaceful, but I felt worse. Panic burned through me. If I’d wanted Mom to stay sober, I should have stayed with her and made her. I ran into the house. I had to find some way to get home.
The empty kitchen smelled like sweet soda and pizza boxes. Lucy walked in as I froze, fighting the panic. “Oh, Aidyn, I told Miguel you must have gone home. He was looking for you, but he left. I’m sorry.”
“That’s OK. I need to go home, too, but I need—I don’t have a cell phone—”
“Sure, here.” She handed me a cordless from its base on the counter. “Next time you don’t need to ask.”
Jackson came in with a grocery bag stuffed with squashed cans. “Shannon’s waiting. You ready?”
“My mom said she was coming.”
“What time?’
“Ten. I told her ten.” I wrapped my arms around me and shook.
Lucy looked at the clock. “She’s late. I bet she fell asleep.” She grinned. “My mom always used to do that. It drove me crazy.”
Falling asleep was so different from passing out.
I dialed but our line was busy. I shook so badly I couldn’t get the phone into the cradle. Past ten, Mom would not have called her sponsor so late. Joyce, sure. Joyce stayed up all hours, drinking. Encouraging Mom to take another drink.
God, why couldn’t You have answered even one of my prayers?
I looked around and saw Shannon hanging onto Jackson’s arm, frowning. She knew.
“I’ll call my mom.” I jerked to stare at Jackson while he dialed. “Mom, I need to give Aidyn a ride home after all. Her mom didn’t make it, and she’s kind of upset—”
How did he know?
“OK, OK,” he finished. He turned to me. “She said to wait another fifteen minutes, and if your mom’s not here, to go ahead and take you.”
“Fine. Whatever.” He was doing me a favor, I wouldn’t argue. I thanked Lucy and stumbled to
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