Aquarius - Mr. Humanitarian: The 12 Signs of Love (The Zodiac Lovers Series)

“Addison…”

He closed his eyes and regrouped. Mom’s drinking had gotten pervasively worse in the last two months, as if that were even possible. He wasn’t certain what was driving the already raging habit into full throttle overdrive. She’d been drunk off her ass just about every night, and he’d had to leave work on trumped up excuses. He’d talked the police out of taking her away once again; in fact, he and one of the officers were now on a first name basis but he was sure his luck would soon run out. Everyone was tired of Mom’s shit. He’d given the landlord two months extra rent, asking him please not kick her out, and even that didn’t guarantee a promise from the man.

Mom had been a good tenant until this year, so her history worked on her behalf, but how long would that last? He didn’t think things could get much worse over the years, but she’d managed to prove him wrong. Late rent when she had the money was a new reoccurring theme due to forgetfulness from her alcoholic haze. She also engaged in disorderly conduct with neighbors over the most trivial of things—people she used to be cordial with. Those relationships were now damaged beyond repair. And then, the latest situation: threatening bodily harm to her neighbors in repeated drunken stupors.

Drunken stupors? It suddenly hit him. Mom was rarely drunk on his birthday. In fact, he only recalled one time when that happened, and in fairness to her, at the time she’d just found out her best friend had been killed in a motorcycle accident.

He recalled one of his most beloved birthday memories. The memory unfolded like tiny, purple paper hearts fluttering from the sky…

On his 7th birthday, he was sick with the flu. It sucked. He was going to miss being able to pass out the brownies with all the crunchy walnuts his mom had made, way before it seemed everyone had a nut allergy. A little girl named Peg was in his class and he’d made her a special card. Mom had even bought him a pack of stickers to decorate it with. But, Peg would never receive it…

Mom kept him home and fixed him a big bowl of chicken soup, read him his favorite stories, and baked a large vanilla cake. He got to watch cartoons and plenty of movies; the action-packed ones were the best. She handed him a big box full of brand new toy cars and played Go Fish with him in between giving him nasty doses of medicine and pain relievers. Sometime during that day, she stood up on a chair peering down at him and opened her hands. Out poured pieces of shimmery confetti and little purple paper hearts. Before he knew it, the stuff was all over the place, covering his bed, his foot that poked out from the corner of his white sheets, and his hair. He laughed and clapped as she made a show of it.

That was a Valentine’s Day he’d never forget. Mom was stone cold sober. She looked pretty, clean, smelled good, her hair combed. She spoke coherently and didn’t yell and scream. She took care of him and his baby brother. That day, she was a good mom. A very good mom…

“Aiden, did you hear me, son?

“Uh, sorry… no. What did you say?”

“Where’d you meet her at?”

“Work. Mom, I gotta go. Thanks for calling me and wishing me a happy birthday.”

“Can you stop by sometime later today? Something is wrong with the bathroom sink.”

“No, Mom, I can’t. My girlfriend is coming to see me, remember? Call the management agency. That’s what they’re there for. If they can’t help, then they’ll call someone who can. I’ll talk to you later.” When he ended the call, anger soared within him until his ears burst with hot steam like the pot bubbling on the stovetop. He gave the pasta sauce a few good stirs but couldn’t concentrate. Snatching his phone back off the counter, he dialed his brother.

“Hey, I thought you had a date tonight, birthday boy?”

“I do. Can you please stop sending Mom my way?!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Cut the shit, Perry. I know you told her to call me because you didn’t want to be bothered. Are you trying to ruin this for me? What the hell? Why would you do that?!”

Perry sighed on the other end. “I didn’t tell ’er to call you, Aiden. I only reminded her that it was your birthday because I knew she’d forget.”

“She never forgets either of our birthdays. She already called me earlier, too.”

“But she was drunk…anything was possible.”

Silence wove itself between them for a spell.

“Okay, well, thank you very fuckin’ much, Perry. This was just you looking out for me, huh? Man, bull! Did she tell you about the damn sink?”

“Yeah…”

“Well then you knew she was going to fucking call me, regardless of the birthday or not. Don’t even try to play me like that.” Perry exhaled loudly on the other end.

“All right. Sorry, man… I didn’t think she’d call right away though. I told ’er you were having company. Look, relax. You know Mom is—”

“Once again, you don’t want to deal with her. I have to be Captain-Save-A-Drunk 24-fuckin’-7! Not tonight; I’m not doing it! Tonight is mine, you hear me?!” He stabbed himself with his index finger in the chest, boiling to the point of no return… like the pasta sauce before him.

“Mom just needs—”

“What about what I need, huh? Nobody gives a shit about what Aiden needs. No one even asks. She’s a manipulator and full of shit! That’s what this disease has done to her, okay? The mom we had when we were little is dead! I can’t take much more of this. I have warned both of you the last few months, Perry. I am telling you straight up that something bad is going to happen if she either doesn’t go to rehab, or you give me some help here.”

“How can I help you when she only yells at me and doesn’t listen?! You act like I am enjoying this, Aiden, I’m not. She doesn’t do that with you… you’re different.”

“I’m not different. I just tell her the truth, period. She knows I’m on the edge but her addiction keeps forcing her to push me anyway. You know, it’s funny how you didn’t address what I said earlier in this phone call.”

“What?”

“That nobody even asks me how I am doing or what I think anymore. They just do whatever and call me when everything falls the fuck apart. No one wants to listen to me or take my advice before whatever it is they are doing explodes in their face, but the minute shit falls apart, who do they call? Good ol’ Aiden Summers. I’ve had it! You and Mom need to give me some space… I am pissed at both of you at this point. Her, because she’s been fucking up for years. She knows it but is too selfish to address it and won’t stop. And you for being a deserter and enabler, letting me carry this burden all of this time.”

“Aiden, calm down,” Perry said lazily as if it were just a minor hiccup in the fabric of life, but Aiden could feel in his heart he’d reached a crossroads.

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