8

As soon as the others were gone, Gray left Zach in front of the television and went looking for their mother. He found her in the kitchen, sitting at the counter and flipping through a recipe book.

"Mom?"

Karen looked up and smiled. "Hi, honey. You guys all done with the game?"

He nodded. "I thought maybe we could make cookies."

Baking cookies had always been a special thing for Gray and his mom, and he was hoping the activity would give him an opening to tell her about the dream he'd last night.

To his relief, Karen agreed. "That sounds fun. I think we have some chocolate chips in the pantry."

As they gathered the ingredients, Gray considered how to broach the subject. He didn't want to be too obvious; he figured his mom wouldn't be pleased if she found out Aunt Claire had interfered.

"So, it turns out Maisie's pretty good at video games."

His mom dug the measuring cups out of a drawer by the sink. "Good. You boys need someone to bring you down a peg or two," she teased. "By the way, I'm really proud of you both for making her feel welcome here. She's been through a lot. This must be an incredibly confusing time for her."

Gray shrugged. "She's quiet, but she's nice. And she likes dinosaurs, too, so we have that in common."

Karen handed Gray the carton of eggs. "Good thing Claire's at the store—these are all we have left." She surveyed the assortment on the counter. "Okay, we're all set."

"How many can we make?" Gray asked eagerly.

"About two dozen. That should be plenty for six people."

"I could eat more! I'll eat so many, I'll weigh a thousand pounds!"

Karen laughed. "And yet, you'd still be able to beat me in a race."

"Speaking of racing," Gray began casually, "did you know that most meat-eating dinosaurs have bones filled with air, like birds? That's why the T-rex can run fast, even though it's so big."

"I didn't know that," Karen said. "Can you measure the sugar for me?"

They fell silent as they blended the rest of the ingredients. Then Karen took a big spoon and began stirring it all together.

Gray licked his lips. "Mmm…that looks good."

His mother pointed a finger accusingly. "Don't think I don't notice when you steal some of the dough. Moms have eyes in the back of their heads."

He grinned. "Well, herbivores have eyes on the side of their heads, so they can see predators coming."

His mom made a noncommittal noise.

Gray decided to try a more direct approach. "I had a nightmare last night about the raptors. They make this sound…it's impossible to describe." He shuddered involuntarily. "I still remember it exactly."

Karen hummed. "Why don't we talk about something else?"

"I'm just trying to tell you about my dream."

"And I'm just suggesting we pick another subject."

Gray frowned in frustration, dropping all pretense. "Aunt Claire said we should include you more in things. But how are we supposed to do that, when you don't seem to want to talk about anything to do with the dinosaurs?"

Karen's hand stilled, and she stared into the mixing bowl. Then she looked up with a cheerful smile.

"Hey honey, I just remembered that I need to make a couple of phone calls. How about we bake these when everyone else gets back?"

Gray blinked, thrown by the sudden change in topic. "Okay…"

"Great!" His mom whisked the bowl away. "Could you please take Lucy for a quick walk?"

Gray nodded slowly. He wasn't sure why, but he had the feeling he was missing something.

:

After about half an hour of messing around on his phone, Zach decided to go looking for Gray and their mother. He didn't find his brother, but their mother was in his dad's former study.

"Mom?"

Karen sat in the rolling desk chair, one leg pulled up underneath her and the other propelling the chair in slow circles. Zach's heart plummeted when he spotted the bottle of whiskey in her lap.

"What are you doing?"

She jumped—she hadn't noticed him come in. She stopped spinning and offered him a guilty smile.

"Hi, honey. What's up?"

His eyes flicked to the container of alcohol. "You promised you'd stop."

"I'm just having a little bit!" she said defensively.

"That's what you said last time."

"Hey, who's the parent here?"

Zach crossed his arms. "I don't know, Mom, why don't you tell me? You're the one drinking whiskey at four in the afternoon."

She stood up. "I don't like your tone, young man."

"Well, I don't like it when you get drunk!" He deflated. "What's going on, Mom? What's wrong?

Karen emitted a high-pitched squeal Zach recognized as her "fake laugh."

"Nothing's wrong, honey!"

"Bullshit."

"Hey! Watch your language."

Zach threw up his hands in frustration. "I'm just trying to help! Obviously, something is bugging you."

"It isn't your job to help me. It's my job to help you." Karen took the cap off the whiskey bottle. "Now, unless you want to join me…"

Zach shook his head and backed out of the room. He couldn't deal with his mother when she was like this.

:

When Claire, Owen, and Maisie pulled into the driveway, Zach was waiting for them on the front porch.

Claire left Owen and Maisie to unload the bags from the car as she approached her nephew. "Zach?"

"I need your help," he said, his face drawn.

"Of course, sweetie. What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "It's Mom. She's been drinking."

Claire's heart fell. "Where is she?"

"She's in the den. I sent Gray upstairs…he doesn't like to see her like this." Zach looked away. "Neither do I."

Owen caught on. "Maisie, go upstairs and help Gray pick out a board game. I'll put the groceries away and be right up."

Maisie looked confused, but she obeyed without protest.

Claire squeezed Zach's shoulder. "Zach, why don't you go with them? I'll take care of your mom."

Zach hesitated. "Are you sure?

"Absolutely."

He looked relieved. "Thanks, Aunt Claire."

Steeling herself, Claire headed for the living room. Karen was sitting lopsided on the couch, red-faced. She had one hand wrapped around the neck of a bottle of whiskey and appeared to be trying to dial the phone with the other.

"Karen, what are you doing?" Claire asked gently, stepping toward her sister.

Karen's face it up. "Claire! Come over here and help me—the numbers keep moving around, and I'm trying to call Scott."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Claire said, trying to decide whether it was more important for her to get the booze or the phone. She gingerly sat on the other end of the sofa.

"I just want to tell them how happy I am for them!" Karen swung the bottle in a wide arc, and Claire ducked to avoid being bludgeoned. Carefully, she pried her sister's fingers away from the bottle and placed it on the coffee table, out of reach.

"I think it's a much better idea for you to take a nap."

Karen frowned. "But I'm not tired," she said petulantly.

"I know, but you need to sleep this off. You don't want Zach or Gray to see you like this, do you?"

Karen blinked blearily. After a long moment, horror crossed her face.

"Oh, God."

:

Upstairs, Owen, Zach, Gray, and Maisie were playing a subdued game of Monopoly.

Gray looked like he might cry. He was convinced his conversation with his mom had been what set Karen off. Zach thought he was probably right, but that didn't mean it was his little brother's fault.

Zach remembered the first time Gray had called him at college about their mom. 'She's throwing up,' he'd said. 'I don't know what to do! She's been acting weird, she was giggling a lot…' Zach had instructed his brother to go check the trash. When he'd done so, he'd found an empty wine bottle. Zach had put two and two together and explained to Gray that their mother was not sick; she was hungover. He was furious that his mom had put her sons in that position, when it was supposed to be her job to take care of them.

And now she'd gone and done it again.

Zach's jaw tightened, and he threw the dice with a little more force than necessary. One of the plastic cubes bounced away under Gray's dresser.

"I'll get it," Maisie offered, scrambling after the wayward game piece.

Zach sighed. He was just so angry.