Shadowed Seats: (Oliana Mercer series Book 1)

Sheltered

Stone cold sober. Those were the words that filtered through my brain as I poked my head out of the opening of my bedroom door, straining to hear to hear the voices of my adopted mom, Traci Mercer and her ex-boyfriend, Marc Drake. They spoke in sharp, loud tones while arguing over their only son, Daniel.

Marc's words, "I want my son to come live with me," beat through my body as if I'd been the one standing in Mom's shoes.

Mom's comfort zone was being tested. Hold it together, Mom. Don't fall off the wagon.

"Daniel is our son, and he needs his mother," Mom yelled.

"OMG." I texted Devin, my best friend. "Marc's here. He's trying to take my little brother."

"What? That's just not cool."

"Yup. To top it, Mom's worried about Daniel's seizures. Now here comes Marc. What a dick."

A dry lump formed in my throat as I thought about the struggles Mom had been through during her pregnancy with Daniel, along with the daily worries regarding my brother's health. This new wave of bad news might push the only woman who cared enough to love me as her own back into craving the beer that once pulsed through Mom's bloodstream daily like a disease.

Now, it was as if she were on stage and Marc was in the audience, taunting her to miss her lines. Only this was a test of her sobriety, lingering in the rafters and lights waiting to bring down the curtain.

Having a parent in recovery was tough. It was like walking a trail littered with shards of glass. With every little step you held your breath, hoping not to step on any jagged pieces.

What can I do to help, Mom? I'm only seventeen, but there must be something I can do, even if it's to get Marc to leave until Dad gets home.

I slid my bare feet into a pair of tennis shoes, pulled the door open and stepped onto the hardwood floors leading into the front room. As I made my way down the hall and rounded the corner, the low tones became distinct.

Marc turned and faced me. "Hey kid, how's it going?"

I'm not a kid. Kids are goats you wannabe Lothario. "Mom, I need to talk to you."

Mom tucked a strand of her salt and pepper hair behind her ear and smiled. "Can it wait?"

"Not really. It's important." I walked over to Mom and hugged her, hoping to comfort her.

Mom squeezed me back, holding me tight. "Take the car and go pick up your brother from band practice. We'll talk when you get back."

Marc loosened his beige tie, plopped down on the quilted sofa and locked his eyes on Mom. "I'll wait. Besides we need to finish our conversation."

Mom's head snapped in Marc's direction. "There's nothing to finish. My husband will be here any moment."

"Tractor Boy can't stop me from seeing Daniel."

"Your presence in Daniel's life has nothing to do with my husband. It was your decision to put the law firm and your women ahead of our son. All of a sudden you have this itch to have him come and live with you? Not gonna happen."

Marc's shot up off the sofa and lunged across the room. The stench of black pepper and fresh-cut wood followed, reminding me of the days I spent at summer camp. "You're an alcoholic. It's your fault that Daniel has seizures."

My heart raced as I felt Mom's body tremble underneath my embrace. Marc was such a mean person. I will never understand what Mom saw in this guy, let alone sleep with him.