𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐲, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮
Jules sat up a second later, and at that point, Lucy knew the teasing smile on her face too well. "You know what I just thought of?"
"What?"...
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞
The next day was one of those days where Lucy woke up and knew the next twenty-four hours were going to be hell. It didn't help that she woke up in the cold, on the worn cushions of the front porch chair, with her head in her mom's lap and cigarette ashes in her hair. She sat up slowly and the familiar crushing weight of being alive and sober hit her. She looked over at her mom. Her neck was bent at an odd angle, and her ashtray was full. When she slept, she looked older. Lucy noticed the wrinkles on her cheeks and the dark shadows under her eyes for the first time ever.
She shook her shoulder. "Mom. Mom, wake up."
Her mom stirred and groaned. "What in the-"
"We fell asleep on the couch. C'mon, come inside, it's fucking freezing."
"Yeah... yeah, okay."
They leaned on each other to get through the door and into the kitchen. For the first time in a long time, Lucy understood her mother. They were both sleep deprived. Her mom was hungover, Lucy was sober. Neither of them had the best luck with the men in their lives. Plus, she had her mom's eyes.
"You want coffee?" her mom asked.
Lucy went to the living room and draped a blanket around herself, then brought one back for her mom. "Please."
While the coffee pot rumbled, Lucy's mom sat across from her and rested her chin in her hand. "Tell me about that boy."
"I don't really want to talk about it. We just- we both said some stuff-"
"But he hurt your feelings." Her mom shook her head in disapproval. "It's the quiet ones, baby. The quiet, funny ones that seem sweet. You think they're the best thing that ever happened to you until you get in a fight and they-" She mimed stabbing herself in the chest. "They gut you with one sentence."
Lucy stared at her. "How'd you know that?"
"What do you think my fifteen years of marriage were like?"
"Jesus."
"You're telling me."
Lucy pulled her legs up to huddle under the blanket, trying to get warm. "Mom, I don't actually blame you for Dad leaving. I want you to know that."
"Sweetie, I know. We both said a lot of shit. I didn't mean... any of it, either."
Lucy didn't fully believe her, but she was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt just this once. "I do want to know why Dad did leave, though. The real reason."
