Page 9 of Rough Start

“Eliana.” He took her outstretched hand, their eyes met, and they both smiled.

With a wistful sigh, Eliana commemorated the memory by braiding her hair in a fishtail and moved to her closet to dress for the day. Never one for the flashier styles, Eliana preferred to dress simply. Her closet was full of mostly earth tones and items easily layered.

She was still pulling on her sweater when she heard the crash from downstairs. Racing from her room, her feet pounded down the stairs, and she saw her father collapsed on the floor in front of the door. He was a massive man, broad-chested and full-bellied with a bald head and thick brown beard. He was still wearing his work overalls, and his hardhat, having fallen from his head, was spinning in circles in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Dad!” She sighed as he attempted to crawl to his feet. The paper sack he’d been carrying had ripped, and several bottles now lay broken on the floor. “Be careful, you’ll cut yourself,” she scolded as he tried to scoop up the remains. Despite his portly stature, he looked like a small child who had spilled his crayons.

“Help me, Liana,” he groaned as he tried to scoot the liquid into a broken half of a bottle, “get me a cup or something. I don’t want to waste any.”

“Dad, come on,” she said as she placed a hand on his stooped back. “I’ll take care of this,” she assured him. “Let’s get you up to bed.” He struggled a moment to stand all the way up and began licking the liquid off his hand.

“Wait, wait,” he said and grabbed one of the bottles that were still intact. “One out of three is better than none.”

“Dad!”

“It’s alright, I’m alright,” he declared as he moved toward the stairs. He tucked the bottle under one arm and draped his other over Eliana’s shoulder as she practically dragged him up the stairs.

“I thought you and Uncle Ron were gone for a few more days,” she asked with discomfort. By the smell of him, he’d been back a while, and he’d stopped at the pub for a few before coming home.

“If anyone asks, we’re still out of town,” Henry instructed as he stumbled down the hall and into his bedroom which was past Eliana’s.

“Why?”

“Don’t ask that, Liana. We were gone the last two days and we’re gone two days more, under-understand? We-we already got paid for four days on the road, and I’m not returning none of the money!”

“Dad, you’re going to get in trouble if you keep fudging numbers at work…”

“Who’s fudging?” he roared and pushed himself off her only to stumble into the wall. “We delivered all the wood we were supposed to!”

“You had six stops as far north as Ellsworth, how did you do that in two days?”

“You’re not the only one with brains,” he said, tapping his temple for emphasis. He swayed for a moment, and she had to catch him before he fell.

Eliana sighed as she helped him sit on the bed. He had unscrewed the lid to the bottle and took a long drink of whiskey, the smell of which made her gag before he smiled up at her. Droplets of alcohol were dripping from his scruffy beard. “I need to go clean up the glass before I’m late for school.” Before she moved, he grabbed her hand.

“How did I get so lucky to have a saint for a daughter?” he asked, his bloodshot eyes closing as he rocked back.

With an even heavier sigh, Eliana answered, “You married an angel who gave birth to a saint.” Her reply sounded as rehearsed as it was.

“That’s right, your mother, she was an angel. Only an angel like her could give me a saint like you,” Henry said dreamily as he curled up on the bed cradling his bottle like an infant.

“Get some sleep, Dad, I’ll see you tonight.” She kissed him on the top of the head and closed the door behind her as she left. Mustering up memories of Kye, she tried to force herself into a good mood as she descended the stairs to begin mopping up the liquid demon that lay on the floor of the foyer.

Cleaning up the broken glass was easy enough, but when she knelt to wipe up the alcohol, she felt the tears rolling down her face and dripping onto the floor. It wasn’t the fact that she was cleaning up his drunken mess; it was the fact she was so used to it that brought on the sudden emotion.

For years Eliana had prided herself on her stoicism, never letting anything get her too riled up. Growing up without a mom? Others had done it. Bullied in school? Just ignore them. Didn’t have any friends? Studying was a constant companion. Dad forgot to pay the bills and came home drunk again? Time for a second job. No sweat, no fuss, no mess.

Maybe today it was the lack of sleep over the last week. Or the stress of her impending graduation. Or maybe it was the fact that only hours before she’d felt the most joy she’d felt in her entire life in the arms of the boy she was falling in love with, only to be dragged back down to reality with the crash of a whiskey bottle. The dramatic shift in emotions was enough to splinter her resolve.

Throwing the towels into the laundry, Eliana peeled her clothes off. The last thing she wanted was to go to school smelling like alcohol. Lord knew Missy would notice. Grabbing a green sweater from the closet, she swapped out her tank top and jeans from the top drawer of her dresser where her eyes landed on a portrait of her mother.

If there were any other photos of Gwendolyn in the house, they were kept under lock and key. This was the only one she’d ever seen, and Eliana had only managed to find it when she’d been cleaning out their basement after it had flooded three years ago. It had been stored in an old baby book of Eliana’s that had been too saturated with murky water to be salvaged. Fortunately, the photograph was tucked inside a plastic cover and had been mostly undamaged. Only the edges were slightly discolored and the water stains weren’t enough to dim the beautiful woman’s brilliance.

Her mother had always seemed like a fairy tale. Some distant, perfect, impossible to be real heroine her father rarely spoke about but idolized magically. The photograph was of Gwen posing for the camera holding a small, pink bundle she knew was herself only days after being born. Her mother’s hair was wild and glowed with sunlight. Face completely devoid of makeup, her lazy smile and half-lidded eyes spoke volumes of her fatigue but also her ease. She looked so natural. Gwen would have made an excellent mother if she’d had the chance.

In perfect irony, alcohol had robbed her of both parents. First, her mother nearly thirteen years prior in a drunk driving accident and then her father after he’d crawled in a bottle and never came out. Eliana hated alcohol. It was a hate that permeated every cell in her. Though she’d never taken a single drop, she felt it constricting every moment of her life since her mother had died. Escape was her only option.

Turning from the photo, Eliana made her way to the desk next to her bed. It was covered in papers and sketches and letters of all kinds. The most prominent was a brochure for Harvard University and her acceptance letter with a certificate of scholarship. They sat right next to a map of the town surrounding the school and circled in red was the apartment she’d reserved and put down payment on. It had taken half her savings account, but she’d paid six months of rent on the one bedroom, one bathroom, mother-in-law apartment in a boarding house. It was hers.