Chapter 1

Emily sighed heavily with restless effort as she entered the house. She could leave the house for a whole day and by the time she returned, her daughter would have deafened the neighborhood with her loud music. There had been constant complaints about the way she played the music so loud, whereas Alethia didn't think there was anything wrong with that, so long as she was playing the music in her own house. 

"This weasel!" Emily said as she dropped her bag on the couch and made to head up the parallel concrete stairs, but she rather hit an empty beverage can and halted at the faint sound amidst the sound of the music blaring from her daughter's room. 

She sighed heavily and looked around, and only then did she realize that the house was in a total mess. There was a great deal of odor wafting from the kitchen, and Emily knew it could only mean that Alethia didn't do the dishes from last night's dinner. 

"What should I do with this girl?" She asked no one but herself. Alethia had changed drastically after her father died, and coupled with that, she was at the age where every parent had to be careful with handling their wards because they could be unpredictable and revolt unnecessarily only because they feel they're at the age where they could be let off from taking responsibilities. But Alethia was 22 years old already, and Emily decided it was high time she started taking responsibility for her irresponsibility. 

So she ignored the mess in the living room and headed up the stairs. On opening the door, she was greeted by the smoke that had filled the room, and the frustrating smell of cigarettes. By then Alethia had burnt seven sticks of cigarette and was on her eight. 

"What the…" Emily guided her nose with her palm immediately. Then she looked for the remote and fetched it to turn off the woofer. 

"What is going on here, Aleth? You're smoking?" 

Alethia sighed exasperatedly. "Mom, could you please give me back the remote?" 

"You will not speak to me in that manner, okay?" 

"In what manner, Mom? You think you can just come in here and tell me what to do?" 

"Oh yes, this is my house. And I might take it lightly with you for the loud music, but I won't sit around while you burn it down." 

Alethia chuckled. "You make it sound as if this is not my house as well. And I was only smoking, not setting fire to the curtains." 

"What has come over you, Aleth? Why would you choose to ruin your life?" 

"It's called smoking, mom. Not ruining lives. And I'm old enough to put a cigarette on my lips. I'm twenty-two for Christ's sake." 

"And I'm forty-five. Do you think being old means being eligible to smoke and drink? I'd like to think that your father and I raised you better than that." 

"Don't you dare mention him!" She flared. "You lost the right to mention him when you chose to roam around with other men barely six months after his death." 

Emily sighed deeply. They were both grieving at the moment, although in different ways. And whether Alethia believed her or not, she loved her husband dearly. But he was gone, and she knew to let go of the dead and live her life. 

"Nathan was my husband before he was your father. I loved him just as much as you do." 

Alethia chortled. She rose and approached her mother, standing at her face. "Then the difference here is that I still love and miss him, while he's already a past to you." 

Emily could feel the back of her eyes burning, but she'd decided she had cried enough after her husband died. She knew the only way she could move on was to keep telling herself that he was gone and would never come back to them, and to do that, she had to keep every feeling she'd had for him at bay. Life continues anyway, and she didn't want to tie herself down with the thought of the dead. 

"Nathan is gone, Aleth. This is our reality now, and we must learn to live with it." 

The girl had begun to shed a few tears, but Emily couldn't even hold her for consolation. She had to come to terms with the present and focus on the future rather than constantly dragging herself to the past, and Emily knew this Alethia could only achieve on her own. But for how long? 

"Aleth…" Emily made to place a hand on her shoulder but she pushed it away and walked back to the bed. Then she sat on the edge. Emily moved closer to her. 

"Baby…" she said and sat beside her. Alethia stood up and went to sit in the armchair. 

"Mom, please I'll need my privacy. You must be tired from your long day at work, you need your rest." 

Emily inhaled deeply. The room reeked too much for her liking, but she feared she might raise the dead issue if she comments on that again. 

"Okay, but I'll leave after I clean this place." 

"It's my mess, I'll take care of it." 

"We could do it together…" She sounded positive, but Alethia wasn't impressed. 

"Please, Mom. Leave my room." 

Now it sounded as if Alethia didn't want her around any more than Emily wanted to stay. She rose and traipsed out of the room, then Alethia slammed the door behind her. 

Emily took a few seconds at the door to catch a breath of fresh air. Alethia was getting worse by the day and she wondered how she was supposed to handle her child at her worst. They were what was left of their family now. She wished she could heal the child of her pain somehow. At least she hoped Alethia wouldn't hurt herself more while trying to heal in her own way. 

She turned towards the door and grabbed the knob, but she halted from pushing. That wasn't the right time for furthering any conversation with her daughter, so she knew to leave her be. 

Meanwhile, Alethia was looking for her pack of cigarettes when it came to her reasoning that her mother might have siphoned it out of her room. She flared. She could feel her head burning through the heat of untamed anger as if all she had restrained were now about to burst. She dashed out of the room immediately and headed down the stairs, meeting her mother where she was packing the mess in the living room into a waste bin. 

Emily was surprised to see Alethia. She thought she'd come down with the motive of joining her, but when she looked at her face, she feared something was wrong with her. 

"Mom, where is my pack of cigarettes?" 

Emily recoiled, squeezing her brows in wonder. "What?" 

Alethia sighed deeply to calm herself a bit. "Where is my pack of cigarettes? I know you took it." 

"What in Christ's name are you talking about? Were you going to smoke again after what we discussed?" 

She chuckled. "We discussed nothing. That was you barging into my space and saying your mind." 

Emily looked at her daughter. She was very well her height, but she shouldn't make the mistake of thinking that they were mates. 

"Hey, young girl. You will speak to me with respect." 

"Just give me what I asked for." 

"I didn't take anything from your room, and even if I did. I will never give it back. I won't sit around while you ruin your life and cause me yet another pain." 

Alethia laughed sarcastically. "Oh, Mom...don't even try to make me believe that Dad's death caused you any pain. We both know you never treated him the way he should be treated, which is why it was easy for you to move on after his death." 

"He was my husband, we had our ups and downs, but that doesn't mean I didn't love him. That's something you'll never understand, at least not yet." 

"You can keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep well at night," Alethia said and turned towards the stairs. A few steps away she halted and turned back. 

"You feared I might burn down the house? Maybe I will do it before dawn if I don't get my pack of cigarettes by then." With that, she hurried up the stairs and the last thing Emily heard of her was the heavy sound of the door slammed shut. 

Emily dropped the waste bin in her hand and sat weakly on the couch. She could feel the tears pushing more strongly now, but she raised her head to keep them at bay. She wasn't going to shed any more tears, she thought with determination. But it seemed that the more she tried to prevent herself from letting her heart loose, the more her heart was becoming heavy. 

After cleaning up Alethia's mess, she made dinner and waited for Alethia to come down, but there was a relative quietness in her room. At one point Emily was conflicted about whether to go to her or let her be and just enjoy the little peace for a while. Nonetheless, she was worried for her. 

And she couldn't sleep well that night. Alethia had threatened to burn down the house. She could do it. 

*** 

By the time Emily thought to have a little sleep, it was already 5 am, and she had to get up to do her usual chores before going to work. She runs an advertising agency, and although it was average, it was a company she built with her late husband, and she had been determined to make it more successful than it had been in the past years. 

She hasn't been having enough sleep lately. She feared her health might deteriorate at this point, but getting Alethia to help her out with some chores wasn't an option. Maybe it was time to bring Ethan in. Other than his companion as a man, she would need his presence in the house, at least to make it less deserted than it already was. 

Last night, Alethia had looked for her pack of cigarettes again when she got back to her room, but she couldn't find it. And she couldn't have adhered to the threat she made because she fell asleep earlier than she could stay awake. By the time she felt a touch of dawn, it was already 7 am and the sun was already seeping in from the blinds she forgot to draw down before going to bed. 

Her head hurt a great deal. The sun was a bit blinding and it made her squinting her eyes. She was feeling a hangover, and she could barely remember everything that had gone down the other day. But she remembered her bickering with her mother, and she knew to look for water. There was a half drink of bottled water on the bedside table. So she grabbed it with urgency and empty it into her mouth. But her forehead hurt more from raising her head, so the pain left her face in squeezes. 

Her bedspread had crumpled, and the blanket lay abandoned on the floor. It was obvious that she'd tossed and turned a lot in her sleep, but she couldn't remember having any nightmares. But it didn't mean that she had a sound sleep and a great night. 

She got out of bed and headed down the stairs. Her stomach wouldn't stop growling as if the worms in her stomach were protesting to feed on her intestines if he refused to feed them soon. The last she had the other day was whiskey, and she hadn't remembered to eat dinner. 

On stepping across the dinner table, she could see that her mother had fried some eggs and arranged slices of bread in a dish. It must be for her, she thought. But she was a bit reluctant to claim them, as she could still remember all she'd said to her mother the other day. 

So her mom's words startled her when she said "Hi, love…" when she appeared from her room. 

Alethia turned 360 degrees without uttering a greeting. She was embarrassed of herself, but she couldn't in her defense claim that all she'd said the other day was under the influence of alcohol. She couldn't even remember why she had smoked or how it tasted. She'd hated the smell from the start. And maybe she'd thought that accepting everything she hated could be a way to relieve herself of the pain weighing on her heart. 

"Come, love. Come and have breakfast." Emily said, roaming around positively. 

Alethia struggled with her feet until they eventually took her to the chair where she sat and made an attempt to start eating. But once her mom came around to sit opposite to her, her hands became reluctant as if they had lost the way to her mouth. 

"Mom, I--" Emily interrupted. 

"So, how was your night? It was good?" 

Alethia nodded. 

"That's good to know." 

The atmosphere resumed its awkwardness once more. Alethia decided to concentrate on filling her stomach, while Emily was looking for the right time to say what was on her mind. Once she was sure that Alethia had had enough to eat, she raised her head and looked outright at her, although Alethia has her head bent. 

"Baby, can we talk?" 

Alethia felt frightful. Her mother was finally going to discuss their bickering from the other day, but Alethia hadn't come to terms with how to apologize. She swallowed a lump and choked. Emily handed her a cup of milk immediately and she drank. 

"Thank you," she said and coughed the last of the discomfort in her throat. Then she cleared her throat. 

"Are you okay now?" Emily said. 

Alethia nodded. She finally seemed ready to have the discussion. And she knew she was wrong to have addressed her mother the way she did the other day, so it would be the right thing to do to apologize. 

"I'm bringing Ethan." 

Alethia recoiled, trying to catch a breath of who Ethan was, and while this person mattered more than discussing what went on the other day. She breathed deeply and sat right. 

"Mom, who's Ethan." 

Emily catches her breath and exhales sharply. She could feel a shiver within her, but she couldn't stop herself from making the declaration now. 

"Ethan is my friend. I think things will be easier on us if we have one more person in this house." 

"Ethan is your house boy then, I surmise?" 

Emily cleared her throat and sat properly. "No, love. Ethan is my friend." 

Alethia looked around before looking at her mother. "Your friend?" 

Emily shrugged. "Well, he's more than a friend." 

Alethia chuckled. "You mean your boyfriend?" 

Emily tried to hide her embarrassment. She avoided looking straight at her daughter while she admitted the obvious. 

Alethia wasn't going to take it lightly anyway. She rose with a scoff and sat down. Then she rose again and began to mark every space in the room with her pace. 

"Are you already trying to give me a stepfather? Are you planning to marry this Ethan?" 

"Aleth, hear me out." 

"Of course, you're going to marry him." She looked at her mother for a moment. That Emily wasn't denying it meant Alethia was right. She chuckled in disbelief. 

"Aleth, I need to move on. And we need someone else in this house. The chores are taking a toll on me and I fear I might break down soon enough." 

"Then get a house boy. A fucking house boy." 

"Language, girl…" Emily cautioned. 

"I need an emotional companion, not a house boy." 

"I don't care how many men you chose to have sex with outside of these walls. But I won't allow you to bring them home." 

Emily bolted out of the chair. "This is not going to be on your terms, my dear. I'm merely informing you, not seeking your permission." 

"That's where you're wrong, mom. There's no way you're going to bring a man into this house without my permission." 

"You joke, young girl." 

Alethia laughed out loud. "This is so unbelievable. It's not even up to a year since Dad died." 

"I won't waste away, my dear. Or what exactly do you want from me? I've given you everything since your father died, and now I can't even have a companion?" 

"You don't get to replace my father." 

"Nathan can never be replaced. But I'm allowed to seek comfort and a companion." 

"Then you can do that outside. I believe this Ethan of yours isn't homeless. You both can have as many rounds of sex as you want, so long as it's not in this house." 

Emily walked closer. "Watch your tone, girl. I won't take anymore from you." 

"I won't watch my tone so long as you decide to stoop so low. If you want to be a whore, it won't be in this--" Alethia failed to complete the sentence -- she was made to grab her face after her mother had smashed her hand on it. 

Emily was rather dazed. She wouldn't have believed she could ever lay a hand on her daughter, but she'd slapped her. And the sound of it shook her for a moment. 

"Aleth, I'm sorry..." She said and made an attempt towards her, but Alethia pulled away still grabbing the left side of her face. The shock seemed to have shook her more than the slap, and the hurt from getting slapped by her mother was more than the pain she felt in her face. 

Her eyes had begun to run down a few tears. She was heartbroken and speechless. 

Emily was remorseful. But all attempts to make things right at the moment proved abortive. 

"I'll never forgive you for this," Alethia said. Then she hurried up the stairs. Emily dropped her bag immediately and ran after her. But the door had slammed before she got to the last step, and Alethia wouldn't open the door for her. 

"Baby, I'm sorry…" she said as she banged on the door. 

Unknown to her, Alethia was already packing a few of her clothes, waiting for her mom to leave for work so that she could vacate the house.