Hand Me Down Read Online Free

about how long she stayed with my dad; how she prayed for him every night kneeling in front of her bed, and every morning tried harder to please him through his hangover. The gerbils drop dead, and in my vacant stomach I know she’s made that choice again.
    Mom opens her mouth, so I try to tell her with my eyes that I know what she’s going to say, that I don’t need to hear it out loud. But this woman sitting in front of me with my cheekbones and small wrists and wavy hair won’t look at my face. My eyes and throat burn like the room’s on fire and my ribs feel shattered under the weight in my chest, but she says without flinching, “You and Terrance cannot both live here.”

2
    Mom swears it will be temporary. “We will file appeals,” she says, sitting at the kitchen table she bought at Levitz right after she married Terrance, in one of four matching beige-and-pink cushioned chairs they’ve probably had sex on. “You’ll be back before you know it.” Her nearly translucent gray tooth gleams behind lips taut in an asymmetrical smile.
    “Couple weeks,” Terrance says, “tops.”
    Mom says, “I promise.”
    “It’s too bad, Liz,” Terrance says, staring at me as he licks mayonnaise off his fingers. “I really enjoy having you around the house.” He smiles with salami in his teeth.
    Little asteroids land and smolder in my throat. This can’t be real. This is some kind of sick joke. “Mom,” I say. “You’re not serious?”
    “Liz.” Mom swallows and runs her fingers through her bangs. “Everyone agrees that Terrance needs a stable home during this period of reintegration.”
    “What about my home?”
    “Pastor Ron thinks that cohabitation is essential for the survival of our marriage.” She shapes her hands into fists and brings them knuckle to knuckle at her solar plexus. “Terrance and I need torebuild our foundation, create a solid union able to endure hardship.”
    My mind is reeling, spooling barbed wire around my brain. “I did everything you asked.”
    “You were doing great.” Mom starts to smile but it fades into a frown. “But Terrance needs his family. It’s important that we stay together right now.”
    “More important than your children?”
    “It’s not that black and white,” she says. She lowers her chin to her chest. “Noah is staying.”
    A noose cinches around my neck and I almost choke. “Was that supposed to make me feel better?”
    “Since Jaime is already at your dad’s,” Mom says and sighs, “it’s just you.”
    It’s just me
. My vision goes fuzzy and Mom’s image turns fluid. She becomes squiggly lines and shaded circles. Her blurred lips keep moving but the water travels to my ears and I hear crackling static. I’m tumbling in the ocean, sand scraping my skin, saltwater filling my lungs and stinging my eyes.
    “Liz?” Mom calls my name and slowly she comes back into focus, her face softer, her eyebrows furrowed with concern. Her head tilts to the left and her eyes look wet. “I know this seems hard,” she says. “But it will only be for a little while.”
    “What can I do?” I say, tears spilling onto my chest. “Tell me what to do so I can stay.” Every cell inside of me is clenched and heaving. Nausea swims through my gut, but I kneel in front of her and seize her hand, which I’m surprised to find is the exact same size as mine. “Please.”
    She looks down at me and brushes a strand of hair from my forehead. “I wish no one had to go.”
    I squeeze her clammy fingers. “Then don’t make me,” I say, my voice cracking. “Don’t make me leave.”
    Mom takes a deep breath and as she exhales, her curly blond bangs float out from her forehead and lie flat again. She whispers, “I didn’t make the rules.” She slips her hand out of my grasp and looks away, her lips trembling.
    I stand up, clutching my stomach. “But you picked him.”
    She shakes her head but her tears stream like mine. She stares at me with bulging eyes and