Fight For It by Jessie Harper

Author:Jessie Harper [Harper, Jessie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781735096117
Publisher: Stolen Barn Books
Published: 2020-06-17T16:00:00+00:00

Francine Myers is not a big drinker. She will have a glass of wine with dinner, possibly a cocktail if the mood is right. She will have a glass of champagne at a wedding or to toast the new year but she does not, as a general rule, drag out the "spirits," as my grandmother would call them, in the middle of the afternoon. So when my mother comes back to the kitchen table, after conferring with my father in the backyard, carrying the largest bottle of Jack Daniels I have ever seen, I am more than a little surprised. I am even more surprised when she goes to the cabinet, pulls out two glasses, and begins to mix two extremely strong drinks.

"Bourbon and branch water," she tells me as she sits back down. "Even if this really isn't bourbon. Jack Daniels works just fine."

I stare at her, my mouth hanging open.

"What? It's good for the digestion. Your grandfather drank this every day for that very reason. Your father is taking the boys for ice cream, by the way, so you don't need to worry about them walking in. Go ahead, have some. I'm guessing you might need a little hair of the dog anyway."

I take a tentative sip of my drink and sputter when the whiskey burns down my throat. I can hear my mother tsk tsk me as she takes a large swig from her own glass.

"I would have thought that someone who could handle tequila wouldn't be derailed by a little whiskey." She leans forward to whack me on the back. "Maybe don't be so timid with it."

I take a larger sip and find that my mother is right. It doesn't burn as much and I can already feel the warmth of the alcohol flooding my belly.

"Better?" she asks, taking another sip. "Alright then, Julia Louise Myers Andrews, it is time to take stock of your life."

I stutter again. "Take stock of my life? What does that mean?"

"I think you know very well. I understand I haven't always been the warmest of mothers. I won't deny it. My own mother wasn't the warmest either and, for what it's worth, I was fine with you being a daddy's girl. There is something to be said for a daughter having a strong relationship with her father. And I suppose I thought spending time with him would mean I wouldn't have to have this conversation with you. I can see now that I've done you a disservice by biting my tongue when I should have spoken up."

"Mom," I strangle out, "you have never been one to bite your tongue. If anything you've always given me more than an earful when you think I'm wrong." I instantly regret my words when my mother's sharp eyes focus on me again.

"I will try not to take offense to that, Julia, because I'm sure that wasn't meant to be hurtful. But if I've been giving you such an 'earful' as you say, then I've obviously not been saying the things I should have.

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