“Back to the bike, Soph,” he grunted with impatience, sounding like he was trying to carry something heavy.
“Let me help,” I said, bravely entering the house. Immediately, the stench of vomit filled my nose and I recoiled. It was both fresh and stale making for a stomach churning combination. I stood in a tiny living room that was surprisingly neat with two couches and a small coffee table filling the space. The pictures on the mantel caught my eye, a young clean-shaven Axel smiling in what looked like a high school photograph. Beside it, an even younger looking Ryker.
I heard another noise from down the hall and rushed to help. When I came to the first bedroom on the right, I stopped short.
Axel was trying to haul an older, very drunk woman into bed. I was frozen for only a moment; such was my shock that this formidable, nearly invincible appearing man came from someone so fragile.
She groaned and mumbled something incoherent as he got her top half onto the bed with a grunt of effort. She was dead weight and it made her harder to handle from the way she seemed to come out of unconsciousness to struggle.
I didn’t say a word. I moved into the room and lifted her legs as he carried her upper body, helping to lift her on to the bed.
He looked at me with surprise and then anger before muttering something unintelligible.
“I’m fine, honey,” she was mumbling over and over, shaking her head against the pillow. Then she appeared to notice me through her drunken haze. “Who’re you?” she slurred, looking at me through bleary eyes.
I looked to Axel wondering how he’d want to answer that.
“She’s my girl, Ma,” he responded impatiently.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” I answered awkwardly, my eyes darting to Axel’s and offering what I hoped was a reassuring smile.
“Ma’am,” she sighed, throwing her head back against the pillow. “I like her, Axel,” she laughed to herself. “It’s ‘bout time you settled down.”
“Ma,” he sighed in exasperation, all while stroking her hair back from her forehead with a tenderness that made my heart hurt.
Then with a sudden groan, she leaned over and threw up all over the side of the bed missing Axel’s boots by inches as he jerked back.
“Fuck,” he muttered, looking up to the ceiling as though searching for divine intervention. His lack of surprise made it clear this wasn’t the first time this had happened.
“I drank too much,” his mother groaned.
“Ya think?” Axel grumbled, seeming unclear where to start with the mess.
I darted from the room on a mission. I found the bathroom, a washcloth and a glass of water.
When I returned, I moved to the side of the bed that didn’t have fresh vomit on it and sat carefully on its edge. I wiped her slack mouth with the washcloth and tried to coax her up to drink some water.
“Did I throw up on you?” she asked, seeming genuinely concerned.
“No,” I replied quietly with a small shake of my head.
She threw her head back and sighed. “That’s good.”
I looked over to Axel who still hadn’t looked me in the eye.
“I’ll get a trash can,” I murmured rising from my seat on the bed.
He grabbed hold of my arm as I moved to pass him. “You are not cleaning up my ma’s puke. Go outside and sit your ass on the bike,” he growled.
I looked at his grip on my arm and then up to his eyes that were filled with too many emotions to name. But I recognized one, shame. I wasn’t about to let him feel embarrassed about this. Not with me.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” I replied quietly. “I know something about having parents you’re not proud of,” I murmured, looking over at his mother who was now completely passed out, with her mouth hanging open. “I’m going to help you get this cleaned up. I know you’d do the same for me,” I added with conviction.
He looked at me intently for a few moments before he swallowed audibly. “Fine,” he groused as though it pained him to give in, again.
Together, we cleaned up the room relatively quickly. Once done in the bedroom, I started on the dishes in the sink. The house wasn’t in that bad a shape given the circumstances. I had a million questions about how often she drank like this, what she’d been like when the boys were young, but I held my tongue, sensing it wasn’t the time.
“Come on, Soph, we’ve been here long enough,” he grumbled from behind me as I was drying one of the plates I’d washed.
