Lifestyles of the Rich and the Famous

The talk with Mrs. Barakat was not an easy one. It took a lot of screaming, denial, and hard truths before she finally broke down in tears and heavy sobs as she accepted the harsh reality her kids lived in. When his mother had finally calmed enough to let go of her death grip on Jack, he excused himself to go make some tea, leaving us alone in Mrs. Barakat’s library – the same one where Jack had fought with his father days beforehand.

Mrs. Barakat sighed with a sniffle. I grabbed the box next to me and offered her a tissue. She gave me a small smile and an equally small “Thank you” as she took one. There was, likely, the most awkward silence of my life for a minute before she spoke again.

“Alex.” My head snapped up. “Thank you.”

I cocked my head to the side. “I, um, f-for what?”

She let out another heavy sigh. “For looking after my children, especially Jack.”

I nodded. I hadn’t really forgiven her because I’d seen the damage all the years of neglect had done to Jack, and I didn’t believe accepting the truth she’d been denying for years had really redeemed his mother. I looked back to my hands in my lap.

There was another moment of silence. “I can see he really cares for you,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “He hasn’t looked at someone like that in a while. It’s good after, um…everything.” She swallowed. “I’m glad he had you when I wasn’t there for him, when I should have been.” I glanced up to see her shaking her head. “And May, she seems to have taken a liking to you.”

“She adores him,” Jack chuckled as he walked back in. He sat by my side, laying his arm along the couch behind me. “Sometimes she’s happier to see him than me.”

I rolled my eyes with a small smile. “That’s n-not true.” Maybe sometimes it was.

There were a few minutes of silence – during which Jack got up and came back with three cups of tea – before I could force the question on my mind to come out of my mouth.

“S-So, what’s the plan?”

Both Barakats turned to look at me, bewildered. After another beat of silence, Jack was the one to speak. “Plan?”

I was suddenly very tired of the whole thing. It seemed the bury-your-head-in-the-sand-and-hope-it-goes-away mentality ran in the family. “Yes, plan. Of course, plan! Something needs to be done, because, I don’t know about you, but I’m sick and tired of worrying about Jack and May constantly, every moment I know they’re home. I don’t want to have my phone ring in the middle of the night only to hear May terrified and crying on the other end. I don’t want to have to worry that I won’t get here in time to help. I don’t want to live in constant fear of losing them, because it’s killing me to stand by and watch it happen,” I sighed. “Go ahead and be mad, Jay, but I can’t stand by and watch you get hurt again.”

Jack nodded, dropping his eyes to the floor. “No, you’re right. It’s not fair to ask you to do that.”

I looked his mother in the eyes as I said, “It’s not fair to your daughter to keep her in constant fear of her parents.”

Mrs. Barakat sighed. “No. No, it’s really not.” She rubbed her temples. “Alright, a plan. What’s the plan?”

“Stop drinking yourself into a coma,” Jack grumbled, nuzzling his face into my shoulder. He shifted to practically sit on my lap while clinging to my torso.

My arms went around him. “Well, addressing the drinking is a good start.”

Jack’s mother studied us momentarily before slowly nodding her head. “I suppose this proves it’s gotten out of hand.” You think? “I’ll stop. I promise. We can clean out the house tonight and make sure to make every last drop disappear.”

I nodded and looked to Jack. He shrugged. “I guess, but you’d have to really commit. Nothing at the office, no going out with…whoever the fuck it is you go out with, because I don’t even know anymore, it’s gotta be absolutely nothing.” His mother nodded solemnly.

“What about your husband?” Jack stiffened in my arms. I nosed his forehead to get him to look at me, but he just hid further in my shoulder.

Mrs. Barakat sighed. “I’ll speak with Bassam. When does he normally get home?”

Jack scoffed. “Every other Thursday?” I thought her eyes were going to pop right out of her head. “Sometimes every other month.” Jack shrugged as if this was no big deal.

But to him it wasn’t. This was his normal.

And that terrified me.

I felt some small comfort when I saw Mrs. Barakat shared this with me.

“But, but I thought when I was, but while I was out who… How did you and… I don’t understand. Who took care of you? Who took care of May?!” she exclaimed, stumbling over her words.

“Me,” Jack said simply.

And his mother was sent into another sobbing fit of hysterics, blubbering out “I’m sorry” and “My poor babies” in the first few moments before she became completely incoherent. Once she has quieted and was left trembling, Mrs. Barakat swallowed thickly. “I’ll call Basam tonight, but I think I want a divorce.” She stood and walked out.

That was all it took for Jack to lose the last of his resolve, and begin sobbing, harshly, into my shoulder. I held him tightly, rubbing circles on his back to soothe him.

“Shh, baby, it’s going to be ok. We’re making it all ok.”