Flat Ginger Ale
…the next day
"I told you NOT to eat any pizza." Audrey said to Drake while she poured the ginger
ale in a Sea World glass that she let get to room temperature.
Damn, Josh. You just can't keep your big mouth shut.
"It was just one slice and I don't think that's why my stomach is queasy."
"Josh also mentioned that you and Emme shared a COLA."
"What else did Josh just happen to mention?" Drake sat at the kitchen table with
his flat ginger ale and saltine crackers.
"He only worries about you, Sweetie. Like we all do." She gave him a quick kiss on
the cheek.
"Is it safe to come in?" Josh said as he peeked his head through the swinging
kitchen door.
"Just come in." Drake bit down on a cracker instead of biting off his brother's head.
"Jake's Garage called while you were sleeping. Your car will be ready on
Wednesday. I feel awful about what those horrible kids did." But Audrey was glad
that Helen turned the sprinklers on them.
"You just had to tell Mom that too?" Drake would have stormed upstairs in a quiet
huff, but there was something that he had to do as soon as Dad and Megan joined
them in the kitchen where they all would be eating their hearty and bountiful Sunday
breakfast except for him. Unless you counted the tasteless ginger ale and saltine
crackers as a complete Sunday breakfast.
"I worry about you, Drake."
I wish you'd worry about me lessNow it was Drake's turn to ask questions.
"Before I call Emme later, I'd like to know how Mrs. Watson is?"
Audrey broke the eggs into a bright orange bowl for the homemade pancake
batter, she wished there was something special she could make for Drake. She
wondered if his stomach could handle two plain pancakes?
"I feel so bad for Beverly. She was fidgety. I could tell she wanted to wrap up my
visit before it even started. I don't doubt for a second that as soon as I left she went
for the liquor. Her husband doesn't even contact the family."
Audrey also felt bad for Emme not only having her personal issues on top of her
cancer and now her mother's alcoholism.
"That's sad. She won't be able to confine her drinking to just nighttime. Eventually it
will catch up with her." Josh said while buttering a piece of toast annoying Drake
with not only the conversation, but also the sound of the butter knife on the toast. It
sounded like he was removing paint from a wall with a metal scraper.
It was like fingernails on a chalkboard.
He did not like Josh having opinions on Emme or her Mother.
What happens to Emme if her mother is not able to take care of her?Well there was one thing that Josh and the rest of the family did not know about yet.
This belonged to Drake and Drake alone.
"Are you making blueberry pancakes?" Megan asked pouring herself a glass of
orange juice
I want blueberry pancakes
With butter
And real maple syrup that has sugar in it
And six slices of bacon
Instead of flat ginger ale and crackers.
Who am I? A 90-year-old man?
"Which tie looks better on TV? The blue stripe on red or the green with the tiny
diamond patterns?" That was Walter's cue to come into the kitchen.
"The green." Audrey said.
She didn't need to remind her husband that she was the one who purchased that
tie for one of his birthday presents did she?
"I like the blue stripe." Josh put his two cents in. It had that television look to it.
"I like the---" Megan started to say
"Enough! I have something important to say!"
Drake couldn't take much more of this everyday droning.
"What's wrong, Drake?" His mother asked
"Everything," Not that he was going to reveal anything, but a few choice nuggets
that everyone in the kitchen needed to hear, "One, Josh—I do not care how much
you mean well. If there is something that I need to tell Mom or Dad—I will do so
myself. And stop doing things without my permission like getting my car waxed.
Two—Mom and Dad, I appreciate all that you've done and continue to do for me,
really I do. But please let go a bit. Especially, you Mom. I'm seventeen years old. If I
want to have a greasy pizza and a sugary soda on one night, I'm old enough to face
the consequences. If I puke, then I puke; it's not the end of the world. Please cut the
apron strings—and Dad be a trendsetter, don't wear a tie. The only one who hasn't
badgered me is Megan. Who'd have ever thought that?"
She smiled, like Drake she too was a "please respect my space" person. It must
have been a Parker trait.
"Drake," Audrey started to say
"I'm not finished, Mom. There's something else. Something I have to show you
guys. And I do not want anyone in this room to make a big deal about it and that
goes quadruple for you, Josh. I'm surprised I was able to hide it until this moment."
Drake took off his knit cap to show his bald head.
He didn't care about anyone's shocked faces.
It wasn't about them.
"It was only going to all fall out anyway, so that's that. Not a word." Drake put his
cap back on.
I'm cold right?
Not ashamed?
Audrey put her hands on Drake's shoulders and kissed his cheek. She was proud
of her son's speech, but a little sad at the same time. Her little boy wasn't small
anymore. He was a young man and wanted to be treated as such. And cancer or
no cancer as painful as it was going to be she had to start "letting go".
"Would you like a few plain pancakes?" She asked
"Yes," Drake replied while eating his last cracker, "I would. Thanks, Mom."
For thirty-five minutes no one talked about "poor cancer victim Drake" and he
was grateful, even if his father was still undecided about his tie for the day and Josh
wanted to go Best Buy to buy the new Clay Aiken album that came out on Tuesday.
Whatever.
Drake was happy that the pancakes actually settled his stomach and he felt better.
Not that he could do any mountain climbing, but it felt good to clear the air. He was
sure there would be days when his parents would be well parents, but he hoped that
Josh would know the right times to leave him alone and to stop sticking his nose in
his business where it didn't belong.
You didn't see Drake wanting to join the psychics club or to go the bookstore
because Oprah said so.
He was glad that Josh didn't follow him up to his room, granted Josh might have
needed something in here, it was his room too after all. But hopefully, he took
Drake's words to heart. He sat on the sofa and took his cell phone off the coffee
table.
I did promise.
And I want to.
"Hey, Emme."
"Hi, Drake."
"Am I calling too early?"
Cancer didn't treat everyone equally. He certainly hoped that she was having a
good day.
"No. My Mother got plastered last night."
"I'm sorry. My Mother said she was kind of rushed out of your house last night.
Maybe, you could talk to her?"
But if Mrs. Watson were anything like Drake, if he had a drinking problem he
certainly wouldn't have wanted to talk about it with anyone.
"What do I say?"
"That you are concerned about her."
Their time together was precious and the last thing Emme wanted to talk about
was her mother's problem. It was just wasting and cutting into their
EmmeandDrake time.
"Last night you forgot to say something."
"I did?"
"Yeah. When is our second date is going to be? Since you are the man
and all you wouldn't let me ask you out."
He laughed a bit.
"Next Friday?" He offered
"I can't. It's a chemo day. Thursday?"
"I can't. Same."
"Tuesday?" She offered
"We could see a movie in the afternoon. We'll have the place to ourselves. Only old
people go to the theater at eleven."
"I'd like that. Drake, I feel bad about what happened."
"There's nothing for you to feel bad about, Emme."
"Yeah, but I told my mother about this when she was sober about a half hour ago,
and she reminded me that not all kids are like that."
"I know. Most people are supportive when you have cancer and
would not make fun of others. But I guess this was revenge for how I treated some
of those girls."
But they were shallow uncompassionate skanks to begin with
So why was I with them?
Because of my male horny needs
"I refuse to feel sorry for those whores and their baboonish boyfriends. It's just not
all kids."
This was another thing Emme really didn't want to spend too much time on. She
didn't want every conversation to be about their cancer and how some people in
the population treated them like crap. There are uncompassionate people of all
ages all over the world who stare at people confined to wheelchairs and people
who had diseases. She wanted to talk about her and Drake as girlfriend and
boyfriend, none of this other in-the-way stuff.
Their time was precious.
"Agreed. But there are many cliques in Belleview."
"St. Patrick's is full of them too. Drake?"
"Yeah?"
"Maybe when we go to the movies----" She let her words trail off. She didn't want to
be the predictable sort.
"You have me curious…"
"We won't watch the movie?"
"Emme Jessica Watson," Drake picked up a pencil and rolled it between his
fingers, "You're so bad."
"But you love it right?"
"You know it."
I'm beginning to……
"Drake, I'm sorry, I have to go—Mom made this brunch for two and I feel good
enough to eat something---and not to mention, I really need to talk to her. I'll call you
later tonight?"
"Just take your time, remember your Mother loves you. Sure. Seven would be
good."
"Talk to you later, Drake. Bye."
She didn't want their conversation to end.
"Bye, Emme."
Neither did he.
He stood up to stretch his legs.
Seven would be wonderful.
"And so would another glass of flat ginger ale." Drake happily tossed his phone in
the air and put it back on the table after he caught it before returning to the kitchen
eagerly anticipating what it would be like to make out during a movie with a person
he actually cared about.
He couldn't wait for Tuesday afternoon to find out.
He knew last night's kisses were the best he ever experienced.
The best.