The Falls Read Online Free Page B

and—”
    â€œYou think everybody is nice,” I said.
    â€œNot everybody.”
    â€œAlmost everybody.”
    She walked over to the stove and gave the oatmeal a stir. “Regardless, he said he’s had great success in helping people stop smoking.”
    â€œHe’s a nightclub hypnotist. He’s probably had more success making people cluck like chickens.”
    â€œThen we have nothing to lose,” my mother said.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œEither I stop smoking, or he convinces me I’m a chicken and we have a steady supply of eggs for breakfast. Speaking of which, what exactly did you have for breakfast?”
    â€œCoffee and a donut.”
    â€œThat’s not enough for a growing boy. You need more than that.”
    â€œThere was cream in my coffee. Does that count as a dairy product?”
    She burst out laughing. I could always make her laugh. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she said. She put a bowl of oatmeal down in front of me.
    â€œBut I’ve already had—”
    â€œNot another word!” she exclaimed. “Eat!”
    I tried to get up out of my chair and she stopped me.
    â€œI was just going to get a spoon,” I said. “Unless you want me to eat it with my fingers.”
    â€œI’ll get you a spoon.” She opened up a drawer and pulled out two, one for each of us.
    â€œYou said you wanted to talk,” I said. Whatever it was, I just wanted to get it started so it could end. I hated waiting.
    â€œYes,” my mother said. “You must have come in pretty late last night.”
    â€œEarlier than you.”
    â€œI didn’t have any choice. My shift ran until almost three in the morning. So what time did you get in?” she asked.
    â€œI’m not sure. I don’t have a watch and I didn’t look at the clock.”
    â€œIt had to be after one-thirty because I called and there was no answer,” she said.
    â€œIt might have been a lot earlier. I could have been asleep already. You know I can’t hear the phone from my room.”
    She took a long sip from her coffee. I didn’t think she believed me, but there was nothing she could do about it.
    â€œDo you know what tonight is?” my mother asked.
    â€œFriday night.”
    â€œIt’s more than just Friday night.”
    â€œThe first Friday night of the summer?” I asked.
    â€œThat too, but more important. I thought you’d know,” she said, sounding disappointed.
    â€œI do know.”
    â€œYou do?”
    I nodded. “It’s your anniversary. Five years sober.”
    â€œYou remembered!” she exclaimed.
    â€œOf course. I was going to get you a card, but Hallmark doesn’t seem to make one that covers this occasion.”
    â€œThey should. Do you have an idea how many alcoholics and recovering alcoholics there are in this country?”
    â€œI know exactly how many there are because you keep telling me,” I explained.
    â€œAt the meeting tonight I get my five-year medallion.”
    â€œYou’re not working?” I asked. This was possibly going to put a wrench in my plans to be out late again.
    â€œI’m going to work my shift after the meeting. I’ve got nine to three in the morning again.”
    So much for having to come in early. I could stay out as late as I wanted.
    â€œAnd because it’s a special night, the meeting is open.”
    â€œClosed” meant that nobody but AA people could attend. “Open” meant that anybody could come to the meeting . . . oh, no.
    â€œFamily and friends are allowed to come,” my mother said. “And since you’re all the family I have, I was really hoping that you could—”
    â€œBut I have plans,” I said, cutting her off.
    â€œPlans?”
    â€œYeah, Timmy and I were going to . . . going to . . . you know . . . hang out together. Do I really