Flash

I get home much later than I had originally anticipated.
I'm still thinking about dad and that woman.
That Sandra, Stacy, Something or Other.
When I open the door, he isn't there, only mom is.
And she's crying like she usually is only she
isn't in her room lying on the bed feeling sorry for herself.
These are different tears that I'm not accustomed to.
These are tears I don't know the meaning of.
These are tears that can't be fixed with a glass of water and an aspirin or two.
Mom can't sleep this one off.
I stand in the doorway and watch her.
She looks so sad on the floor with her knees pulled in tight against her chest
with the cordless phone clutched tight in her long, thin fingers.
"Mom?"
When she looks at me her eyes are wide and red and wet.
Like always only different.
I feel just as helpless as she does.
She waves me over in a tired way a person only does when they're physically and emotionally
drained.
"Andrea..." she says. She sounds hoarse and unsure of her words.
Like she hasn't spoken in a thousand years.
I wait and wait for her to regain her composure because she starts crying all over again.
"There's been an accident."
I know who she's talking about right away.
As if by instinct, I go into the kitchen and get a glass of water and an aspirin as if doing so
will fix my mother as always only this time
I know it isn't going to work.