Searching for Rose by Dana Becker

Author:Dana Becker [Becker, Dana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zebra Books
Published: 2020-07-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

April surveyed the scene of her twelfth birthday party—which was far from being a celebration. Little April kept a close watch on her younger sister, Rose, who was starting to get fidgety and restless, and a close watch, too, on her mother, who was growing fidgety and angry. April often felt as if she had two younger sisters—or, really two daughters: one, the free-spirited, slightly hyperactive ten-year-old Rosie, and the other, a loving but sullen and unpredictable, occasionally just mean, adult-child whom she called “Ma.”

But for this one day, her birthday, April wanted to be the daughter, the kid. For one afternoon she wanted to be the birthday girl, to have her mom and dad and sister shower her with gifts and attention and cupcakes, not because she wanted to feel special but because she wanted to feel normal.

But her dad was late. He was always late—if he was around at all. For her birthday, he’d promised to make the hour-and-a-half trip from the shore, where he lived with his girlfriend, whom April had once met (and whose giant hair and long nails she’d marveled at). He was now an hour late. Then he was two hours late. There was no word from him. As time went by, Rose started to literally bounce off the walls. And April’s mom had drifted toward the high cupboard where she kept the vodka. She’d grabbed the giant bottle, and then disappeared into the bathroom—the only other room in the studio apartment—which was where she did her drinking, supposedly out of sight of the children. But April knew and always noticed.

For a brief moment while they were sitting around the table—that was, sitting on the edge of the bed, since there wasn’t enough room for chairs—she’d believed today might be the day. Today was the day they could feel like a normal family just spending time together. But as soon as April saw her mom disappear into the bathroom with her vodka bottle, muttering curses under her breath, she knew it wasn’t going to happen.

Rose was, for some mysterious reason, standing at the front door, shaking the doorknob with all her might, as though she were trying to escape, playing some sort of imaginary game. Her mother was behind the bathroom door, probably sitting on the sink—as April had once seen her do—killing herself slowly with that bottle. Once April herself had tried this drink. While her mom was showering, she’d climbed up to the high cupboard, and secretly sampled it, and had decided that it tasted like death itself. April was clever enough to know that this drink was her mother’s crutch in life, but she could not understand why; how could this vile drink, this poison, be the thing that she so craved? How could this be the thing she cared about more than her daughters? How could the feelings of sadness and despair, rage and violence be the things her mother so desired in life? It was a mystery to April.

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