Marilyn had tried to give up smoking and drinking and partying when Peter came around. And while some of the habits had disappeared, some had come back. She needed it though, and handled it well. She only drank once Petey was asleep, and it was only so she could fall asleep too. And she never smoked in the house anymore, and usually tried to hide it from Petey as best she could.

Sometimes he would ask her what that smell was, and she would just wave him off, distract him with something else.

But sometimes, she was too stressed.

She had to miss a shift at work to go to the social services office to do her Medicaid and benefits renewal interview. They told her that her food stamps were being reduced because she was making more money with her second job, and she'd tried to explain that the extra income was going to go towards getting Peter enrolled in daycare, but the woman behind the desk wouldn't listen to her.

From the second she left the office to the second she sat down at a barstool, she hadn't gone more than a few moments without a lit cigarette in her hand.

The Jack blended so well with the smoky tobacco taste in her mouth.

When she stumbled home, earlier than normal since she hadn't been working, Peter came up to her and squeezed her legs tightly. Her father looked annoyed that she'd been out longer than she'd said she would be, but sometimes she needed to just let herself go and be.

Peter curled into her side on the couch as they watched whatever was on TV. A cigarette dangled from her fingers and she clutched a glass of Jack in her other hand.