Nora and Her Mom

After her father died in the car accident, Nora spent most nights in her room listening to Joni Mitchell records. It was a sad, solitary life and she felt the weight of the tragedy pushing her down.

Perhaps  it wouldn’t have been so bad if her big brother Chuck hadn’t  shipped out to Vietnam. He’d always been able to cheer her up or provide a shoulder to cry on. It was just her and Mom now and Mom had been drinking steadily since the second her father's memorial service ended.

Nora was sixteen and wondered if she would spend the rest of her life in misery. School was a drag. Her grades were fine but none of her classes interested her. Nora had a few friends but they had all begun to seem superficial. None of the boys in school who she liked paid her any attention. 

So Nora would come home, finish her homework, stare at the stupid TV for a little while then climb the stairs to her room. God the climb was suddenly seeming interminable. She tried listening to other albums like the Beach Boys, The Beatles,  and the Mamas and the Pappas but only Joni Mitchell clicked for her. Nora was beginning to wear out Song to a Seagull and Clouds the only two albums Mitchell had released.

Mom cooked half-ass dinners like Mac and cheese with broccoli or broiled chicken and rice. Nothing fancy like she did when Dad was alive and Chuck was at home. Mom would call her down to dinner at around 6:30. She’d sit across from Nora smoking Tareytons and sipping her fucking vodka tonics, occasionally asking how her day was and how she was doing in school.

Nora gave the shortest responses possible, barely looking up from her dinner.  She’d excuse herself and give her mom a perfunctory thank you then head back upstairs to continue listening to Joni until it was time to go to bed. Some nights she’d think about Gary Lawless a running back on the football team. Nora would stare at his picture from the previous year’s yearbook. The one where he was shirtless at the Fall beach trip. Nora would fantasize about Gary seducing her right there on the beach and making love to her. At least it gave her a couple minutes of pleasure.

Occasionally Nora thought about her father. He was nothing special as far as dads go, he sometimes drank a lot and had a temper, but he was mostly a fun father who loved his children.

Nora remembered the last words Nora ever heard him say: “goddamn hippies.” She’d closed her bedroom door after dad said that — he was talking to mom at the time although Nora was not sure about what. A few minutes later her Dad  went to meet his friend, Tuck Grandberry, on business. It was on the drive home that he skidded into a semi and died. The ironic thing was that her father wasn’t even drunk— it was bald tires on a slick road the caused him to skid. All the times he’d driven drunk and yet he only had a buzz when he finally got into a fatal accident.

But Nora was through crying about it. She’d cried like crazy for several days right after. It was right before Chuck shipped out so he came home for the funeral and he wept like a baby too. Mom had sobbed right up until the burial. Then she sat stoically through that and the service. Since then she’d been drinking steadily. Mom had hardly ever drank before. Sometimes wine with dinner. But now it was vodka tonics morning, noon and night. But she kept it together until she’d served Nora dinner and cleaned the kitchen. After that she gulped ‘em down. Usually passed out in front of the TV.

Nora thought about calling Aunt Shirley, Mom’s older sister. Aunt Shirley had made Nora promise that she would call her if there were any kind of problems. No matter what, she’d said. Anytime, she’d said. Aunt Shirley was such a together lady. A legal secretary at the biggest law firm in town. Smart as a goddamned whip. Tall, beautiful, killer legs and always wearing the latest fashion. An articulate, funny person. She was divorced but still able to work full-time and raise her three kids and date every handsome, eligible bachelor in town. Aunt Shirley was forty-three but didn’t look a day over thirty-three. God, Nora thought, what a contrast to my Mom.

Oh sure, Mom had been a wonderful mother before dad died. She’s always been so positive and upbeat and encouraging. It was like she reveled in motherhood and that nothing delighted her more than seeing her children do well. Mom had been a terrific cook, took care of household chores without complaint and was happy to drive her and Chuck wherever they needed to go. It also seemed like she was a good wife too. Mom and Dad had squabbled a bit — usually over his drinking — but they were affectionate and clearly had fun together. She’d fallen apart when Dad died is all. Completely. Now she was a pitiful drunk who could do no more than the minimum for Nora or herself. It seemed likely that she’d get worse.

So definitely she should call Aunt Shirley. But first Nora needed to get up the nerve. It was a difficult thing to call up someone — even a beloved aunt — and essentially tell on your own mother. But definitely it was the right thing to do.

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“Hi Aunt Shirley!”

“Nora, sweetie, how are you?”

“I’m okay, I guess. How ‘bout you.”

“Oh I’m fine, Busy as always. You holding up all right? And your mom?"

“You have a minute to talk? Cause that’s kind of what I want to talk to you about.”

“Sure, sweetie. You actually caught me at a good time.”

“I don’t know how to say this….”

“Best thing always is to come right out with it.”

“It’s Mom.” Having managed to indicate who the problem was Nora stopped, not sure that she could continue.

“Go on.” Aunt Shirley’s prompting helped.

“I hate to tattle on my own mother but…”

Shirley was intrigued and alarmed.

“She’s, she’s been drinking an awful lot.”

“How much?”

“Like everyday almost all day. She still makes meals and keeps the house fairly clean but I’m afraid of it getting worse. I mean, she passes out every night in front of the TV.” Nora began to sob. “I’m sorry to cry like this.”

“Don’t you dare apologize, you’ve got every right to cry. You’ve only recently lost your father and now in a different way you’re losing your mother. I blame myself, I’ve put work ahead of looking after my sister and niece. What was I thinking?”

“Oh no, Aunt Shirley, you mustn’t blame yourself.”

“Well I do. I get so caught up in my own life that sometimes I forget about others. And at a time like this. I’ve talked to your mother a few times on the phone and of course she acts like everything is fine and, well, I guess I was too oblivious to notice if she was slurring her words.

“Look, I tell you what I’m going to do, I’m going to get a sitter for a few hours and pop by tonight. I’ll do it on the pretext of bringing over cookies. I just baked a couple of batches anyway."

“You’ll come by tonight?” Nora at last felt reason to feel hopeful.

“In a few hours.”

“You won't tell Mom that I talked to you, will you?”

“Of course not sweetie. Geez, I’m so sorry you’re having to go through this. You must feel so alone.”

“Kind of, yeah.”

“Well damn, I’m really sorry. I’ll see if we can get your mother straightened out and I’ll be more attentive to you two in the future.”

“But Aunt Shirley, it’s Saturday, don’t you have a date?”

“No, the fella I’m seeing is out of town — say what would it matter anyway? I’d break a date with Paul Newman for you and your Mom.”

“You’re the best Aunt Shirley.”

“Look, I’ll be by in a couple of hours.”

Aunt Shirley was better than her word and arrived ninety minutes later.

“Yoo hoo, Nora, your aunt is here,” Nora’s mom called from downstairs.

Good, thought, Nora, the slur in Mom’s voice is obvious. Evidence for Aunt Shirley.

When Nora got downstairs, her Mom was offering Shirley a drink.

“No thanks, Charlotte, I brought cookies so I thought we could have hot cocoa like when we were kids.”

“As long as I can spike my cocoa with brandy,” Nora’s mom smirked.

“It sounds like you’ve already had plenty of booze for the day.”

“Say who are you to come to my house and tell me how much to drink?”

“Better question: who are you to be getting drunk. You’ve got a daughter to raise and she needs a sober mother.”

“So I got a little tipsy one time!”

Shirley wanted to say that it isn’t just today, that she knew she was drinking daily. But that would be a violation of her promise to Nora. But brave Nora saved the day.

“Mom, you’ve been drinking too much everyday and it’s really upsetting.”

“I lost my husband! What do you expect?”

Shirley responded. “I expect you to mourn and grieve but not to have a full on collapse. You’ve got responsibilities, mostly to yourself.”

“Look who’s talking, my slutty big sister!”

“Mom! What an awful thing to say. Aunt Shirley is trying to help.” With that Nora collapsed on the sofa and began to sob uncontrollably.

It was Shirley who sat next to her and comforted her.

Nora’s mom walked over to the bottle on the dining room to freshen her drink. But as she picked up the bottle her hand froze. She stood stock still listening to her daughter cry and her sister offer comfort. She poured the drink. She held it to her mouth. She put it down. Picked it up again. Then she walked to the kitchen sink and poured the drink down the drain. She went back and got the bottle and poured it down the drain. She walked over to the sofa.

“Shirley, I’ll take over with Nora, why don’t you make the cocoa?”