by Lisa Lai

Created on: June 12, 2009   Last Updated: June 17, 2009

My mother's boyfriend slurred his good morning and wanted a hug. He was amusing for the most part and my brother and I humored him so we could laugh at him openly. He was usually wasted enough to believe he was in on the joke and would laugh to show he got it when he clearly didn't. I let him hug me and then pushed him. He thought that I was playing and laughed as he fell against the chair, grabbing the table to steady himself. My mom, bleary eyed from lack of sleep and abundance of wine, didn't miss a beat. She glared at me but quickly smiled into Larry's charmed grin so as to hide the slight he didn't catch. Larry thought teenagers were adorable. Larry was an idiot.

She isn't a morning person my mom said. I glared at her. It was nothing to me if Larry found out I had slighted him. She was the one who wanted things to seem nice. She turned her eyes from me.

I heard Jay stirring in the hallway. My older brother Jay was awake. I knew it was the last bit of yelling that woke us both up. Neither of us would be up this early had the party'ers passed out like they usually did around 2am. My stomach tensed as I heard him come out of the bathroom and head for the kitchen. He was bigger than Larry and didn't like another man in the house. And although Jay was no angel, he had zero tolerance for big mouths. Jay entered the room and didn't look at anyone but me. It wasn't a gregarious greeting but it sent the message that he was in a murderous mood that I was exempt from. Children who have lived with abusive parents have a language and connection all their own. They don't fight the way other children do. We have been in the fox hole together and understand who are the enemy and who our comrades are. He grabbed the milk and didn't bother using a glass. No one dared to say a word. Even Larry on some instinctive self preserving level knew it wasn't a good time to expose his disgust at someone drinking from the carton . My mom uttered good morning. Jay turned and faced her. She had challenged him. She had wanted to prove she wasn't in fear of her own son but knew immediately it was a mistake. My tension rose and I quickly tried to think of a way to calm Jay down. We all four stared at each other, arranged in a circle of sorts, waiting for the next word. Jay's next word came by way of his was throwing the carton of milk into the sink, splashing cold white drops all over the back splash and window sill. Jay stormed from the kitchen. A moment later his bedroom door slammed. Larry giggled. My mom smiled sheepishly at Larry as if Jay weren't a morning person either.

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