Read Like a Woman for Free Online Page B

will need to get in there fast, pull her long black hair up for her, wet a clean cloth with warm water and wipe her brow, clean the strings of vomit from her hair, her face, her shirt. Or, if it’s a hot, dry night and the Santa Ana winds are blowing, you know she wants the cloth wet with really cool water laid across the back of her neck. Then, when she is done puking, you will clean her up, help her brush her teeth, help her make it down the hall, into her nightgown and put to bed. Then, just before she passes out, she will say, “Oh honey. You are an absolute angel. I don’t know what I would do without you,” and you will think you should be proud and happy, and maybe just a little bit you are, but when you go back down the hall to finish cleaning up the bathroom, you will not know why you also feel like you kind of want to cry.
    Some nights from your bed you will listen for her footsteps and if they come heavy and lurching down the hall, then you will need to make it to the window fast. When this happens, even if she tries to grab you on your way out, do not stop . Kick her if you must because she probably will not remember anyway and whatever whupping you may get the next day will be nothing compared to what will happen if you stay. Under no circumstances should you let yourself get trapped inside the bathroom with her when she is in her angry drunk. If you make a mistake and try to help her on nights like this, make sure your body is positioned between her and the door so you can take off if she turns. Do not, I repeat, do not ever let her get between you and the bathroom door, even on the good nights. Tender skulls, usually yours, are no match for the porcelain sink, toilet bowl and bathtub ledge and once the floors get slippery with blood, you will have less traction than a wet dog in a soapy bathtub. Grabbing onto the shower curtain will not help.
    So, if you can, the best bet is to just climb out the bedroom window right from the jump. There, you will drop down into the alley, careful not to get scraped up on the rough stucco wall. From there you will have two choices. If the bikers are already partying in the park across the street, you will circle around through the alley and hop the fence into your own backyard and see if Bucky will scoot over and let you sleep with him for a while. But if the park is clear, your best shot is to climb up your favorite tree and just settle in for the night. Once you climb up past the first set of lower limbs, you will notice two thick branches which grow straight out, side by side, with only a little gap between them, making a perfect cradle for your butt and legs. Then, you can just lean back against the strong trunk and not have to worry about anything until it starts to get light.
    There will be some nights when from your bed you will hear your mom’s car pull up nice and easy into the driveway. You will hear her key in the door, even though you left it unlocked. When she comes in the house, you will hear her whistle for the dog. “Hey Bucky,” she will call. “Come here pretty boy.” You will hear her open the cupboard and pour herself a shot of bourbon. You will hear the ice clink lightly in the glass. If you are really lucky, you will hear her softly singing. If it’s Frank Sinatra’s “Fly Me to the Moon,” you will know she is happy and it’s going to be a good night. Even though she cannot carry a tune, you will love it when she sings, “I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night, alive as live can be…” and your favorite, “Oh you can’t scare me, I’m stickin’ to the Union.”
    You will know she’s had a good day and that you can probably talk her into telling you old union stories when she comes into your room to say goodnight. “Ha!” she will laugh, sitting down on your bed. You will scootch over to make room for her. She will take a drink and say, “Oh, honey, you