Raising Dad

The dog was licking up crumbs from the stained and ratty carpet. Jerry Springer was offering his end-of-show wrap-up words of wisdom, at an unnecessarily high volume. And the phone had been ringing for twenty minutes straight. The front door banged shut and Casey headed for the phone, not even glancing at the couch. She lifted the receiver and replaced the phone in its cradle, muttering. She stepped over the dog and some empty Natural Light cans and pushed the power button the TV. Depositing her backpack in an out of the way place, she rolled up her sleeves and started on the afternoon cleanup. Soon her father would wake up demanding dinner and she hadn’t checked the freezer yet to see what variety of frozen meals there were to choose from today. The phone started ringing again. She wavered for a moment wondering if it could be for her…but stayed firm with the resolve that it wouldn’t be worth the risk, and unplugged it from the wall. Talking to her grandmother was not on her list of favorite things—in fact the only list it showed up on was her list of what to avoid in a day…and that was a long, long list. She sighed. Her little brother would be home soon, so she got to work. She was driven by her need to keep him from coming home to this chaos. She cruised through the dishes, then grabbed a couple of garbage bags and headed for the living room. She was always amazed at the large amounts of debris her father managed to create between each 24 hour cycle of cleaning.

“Hey Case.” That sweet little voice piped as the door was put gently in its place. Richie was always careful to avoid waking their Dad, even though he didn’t understand all the reasons why. He ran over to his sister and let her fuss over him for a minute before he reached into his back pack for the note from his teacher. His face clouded over a bit, as he worried what it would say.
“Um. Casey? I have this…um, from Mrs. Lewis…”
“Aw, Rich, what is it?” She opened the paper and scanned it quickly.
“Is it bad?” he asked.
“No, no—it’s good, actually. She wants to know if you’re ready for some extra homework.” Casey’s eyes twinkled, knowing how her brother felt about his homework load already.
“What?” He was clearly appalled.
“Gotcha.” She poked him in the belly and flicked his baseball cap off. “It’s a note asking permission for the field trip to the Transportation Museum next week. Ooh, that should be great! It says you’ll be having a picnic lunch after, and everything. Here, I’ll sign it real quick before Dad wakes up and wants to talk about it.” She rolled her eyes, trying to downplay the scene it could cause if their Dad were involved and sent Richie to his room with a snack and strict orders to finish his homework.

Grant Simons was basically a good man, but his work ethic was lacking and he was a textbook alcoholic. A lot of folks said that’s why their Mama had run off with one of the grocery baggers at the Mini Mart where she was a part time cashier, three summers ago. He was all of 15 and she was 29. Casey knew him from school—a dropout, actually, with long greasy hair and a moustache. A moustache. And Renee hadn't even looked back. Her 13 year old daughter and 5 year old son were filled in on the circumstances of her disappearance by the town gossip. Casey worked hard to keep her little brother from feeling the loss as severely as she did, and to give him a better home than it had ever been with their mother around. Renee and Grant had been in a vicious cycle of fighting and making up, drinking and sobering up, working and getting fired....

Casey knew that her father's drinking had gotten a lot worse since Renee disappeared, but that didn't make her feel any better about their situation. She was the sole provider for the family, and the mother to both the men in the house. She loved them, and she even forgave her mother, but sometimes she wished she could go away and make something more of her life after high school instead of staying here to make sure her brother continued to flourish.