I come downstairs around ten, rubbing my temples with a migraine.

All the kids are on the couch and Nathan is sitting in the chair with his feet on the coffee table, a bowl of lucky charms in his lap. He keeps dripping milk down his abs.

Raylen is laying with sunglasses on. He looks miserable. I look out the French doors in the living room and see the horses aren't out in the field.

There's beer bottles floating in my pool.

I glance at the clock on the cable box and walk further into the living room.

"It's ten and nothing is done?" I ask.

"God Mama, please don't make me." Raylen groans, rubbing his temples. I glance into Nathan's cereal bowl and see there is only marshmallows in there.

He glances up at me and then sets his bowl on the coffee table. I open my mouth to ask him why he didn't make the kids do anything when he grabs my hips and yanks me over the edge of the chair and into his lap.

"Beau!" I gasp, squirming. He locks his arms tightly around me. I push on his bare chest, trying to get him to set me free, but he just holds me tighter. I shift slightly so I'm more comfortable. He glances at the kids.

"Raylen, go do the horses." Nathan says.

"I don't feel good." He groans.

"You should have thought about that." I say.

"I don't want to do the horses."

"I don't care." Nathan says, rubbing my back. "Go now."

He stands up, storming out of the house. Nathan buries his nose in my neck and sighs, his breath tickling my skin. I turn my head and kiss him softly. He kisses me back gently, and then pulls away, his hand rubbing my hip. He sighs again, and then pats my thigh. I stand up to let him up. He rises, kissing me again, and then I take his seat. He disappears into the kitchen, and when he comes back, he goes upstairs. He slips outside. I sprint up from the couch and rip the door open.

"Nathan, do not help him!"

He glances over his shoulder and smiles at me.

"I'm not amour, I'm going to make sure he's doing it right."

I shiver and shut the door. It's cold out.

"When are we cleaning?" Noah asks. "I would like to just get it over with please, Mama."

I glance at my son and sigh.

"When Raylen comes back inside."

"Are you going to help?" Noemie asks.

"Did I make the mess?"

"Well...no."

"Then no."

He falls silent. My stomach growls loudly and I sigh, walking into the kitchen.

It's trashed. The whole house is trashed.

Pissed, I send an empty can of beer flying off the bar.

My house is always spotless.

I hear the glass doors shut and Nathan walks into the kitchen. I raise a brow at him.

"He can't do it." He says.

"What do you mean?"

"He can't, Odeletta. He needs to go lay down."

"It's a hangover, Nathan." I say, irritated.

"Have you ever been hungover?"

"Of course I have been hungover." I mutter, thinking back to my old roommate in college.

"I'm telling you he can't do it."

I shake my head, mad.

"He's still drunk." Nathan continues. "And he had a migraine, and he's thrown up twice since he got out there. He needs-"

"He poisoned his body." I snap. "That's why he's throwing up! You are being too easy on him, Nathan!"

I move to walk out of the kitchen, but he gently catches my hand in his.

"He needs to rest." He says. "I'm mad too. Trust me, I'm pissed. But he needs to rest."

"Fine." I say, pissed off. I'm not really mad at him, just everything.

My house is trashed, my son is sixteen and drinking and doing drugs, and I'm pissed at that Megan brat for upsetting my baby.

"Do you want me to tell him to go to his room, or-"

"You can do it please." I say flatly. I turn around and walk to the room behind the kitchen. It's kind of like a long pantry but there's a built in desk, a closet, shelves for snacks, a sink, an oven, and a dishwasher. I grab the black garbage bags and carry them to the living room. I drop them on the coffee table without a word from the kids and pull out one. I start picking up the trash.

"Why are you helping?" Nathan asks.

"Because I just want it done." I say flatly.

From the corner of my eye, I see him gesturing to the three kids to get up and help. They all spring up and get bags of their own.

Nathan disappears outside and comes back a few minutes with Raylen, a hand on his shoulder.

"Mama, I'm sorry." Raylen mumbles.

"Just go to your room." I say quietly.

Who the hell wants to spend their Saturday morning cleaning up trash?

I have cramps today and I'm exhausted and I have a bad headache starting and I just want a hug. Nathan takes Raylen to his room and comes back a moment later, grabbing a bag and starting to help too.

In under an hour we have all the trash in the house cleaned. I make Nathan and Noah move all the furniture so me and the girls can get under it. When I'm sure it's spotless, we clean up the yard.

I stare at the glass bottles littering the bottom of my pool.

"Where's the net?" I ask.

"Um..." Noah points to it on the ground, out of the garage where it should be.

Somebody slashed it with a knife.

"I'll do it." Nathan says, stepping towards the pool. I put my hand on his chest.

"No."

I walk over to the garage and slip in the outside door. I grab the duct tape and storm back outside. Caroline holds it up and I tape the net. Noah takes it from his little sister and starts fishing the bottles from the pool.

"Don't press them against the side." Nathan says. "They could break and then we'll probably have to drain the whole pool to-"

The bottle in the net slams against the edge of the pool and shatters, shiny pieces of glass sinking to the bottom.

"Well..." Nathan's eyebrows crease. "The water is filled with beer anyways..."

I run my hands down my face repeatedly.

I'm going to find some food.

"I didn't mean to Mama, I swear!"

I look at Noah and sigh.

"I know baby." I ruffle his hair. "It was an accident."

"How about we start draining the pool and go take a break." Nathan says.

"I'm going to check on Raylen." I say, slipping in the house. I get him some aspirin and a glass of water, slipping down the stairs to the basement. I go to his bedroom door and knock softly. When he doesn't answer, I peek in. He's facedown in bed, his shoes still on. His room reeks of vomit from the pot he's been throwing up in.

"Raylen?" I ask, walking over to him. I shake him lightly. He stirs slightly. "You need to drink water."

"Mama?" He mumbles, half awake.

"Yes buddy. Drink the water. Little sips. And take these."

He groans and sits up slowly, kicking his shoes off.

"It smells bad in here."

"Do dump that pot in the toilet." I say. "And wash it out in the shower."

He drags himself out of bed, stumbling slightly, and then he sits back down.

"I can't Mama, I'm too dizzy."

I blow out a sigh and hand him the water. He takes a sip, sighing. I drop the pills into his hand and watch as he swallows them.

"Put on some PJ's. Can you do that?"

He looks around his room. I walk over to his dresser and get him a pair of red pajama bottoms with basketballs on them. I hand them to him and pick up the pot.

"I'm going. Put them on when I am gone. Do you want a shirt?"

"I don't like clothes." He mutters under his breath.

Just like his father.

He tugs his shirt over his head. I go to the bathroom across the basement and hold my breath as I dump the vomit, gagging.

When it's all slopped into the bowl, I flush it, and then I rinse the pot. I spray air freshener and go to Raylen's room.

"Are you decent?" I ask.

"Oui." He mutters. I walk in the room and put the pot back. He's wearing the pajama pants now. "I'm sorry." He mumbles, crawling to the top of his bed. He sips his water again, and then he stares down at the glass. I watch him for a moment. His eyebrows are furrowed and I notice his chin trembling. He sets the glass on his side table and buries his head in his hand. "Mama, I have no friends now. Jake was so rude. He kept making me smoke and telling me I was a wuss if I wouldn't. He made me drink all the alcohol. He had his hand up Megan's dress. I saw it. He had his hand up her dress! I liked her since freshmen year! I'm a junior now Mama! Everything hurts! I can't believe he did that to me! He's so bad, I hate him! I have no friends. I have nobody."

"You have a lot of people that love you, baby." I say, kicking my shoes off and sitting down on his queen sized bed next to him. He rolls away from me, burying his head in his pillow. I rub his back gently, using the tips of my fingers. He shivers and I stop.

"Don't stop." He mumbles. I start doing it again, letting out a small sigh. "Am I going to be alone forever? I've never even kissed a girl. Do you know Jake's body count? It's six."

"Body count?" I repeat. "As in the people he has had sex with?"

"Yes. Six people. I got that condom just in case, but I'll probably die alone."

"I'll be right back."

"Don't leave me alone." He groans. "Please?"

"Right back Raylen, less than a minute. You can count the seconds in your head."

He nods. I slip out of his bed and hurry up the stairs to the basement.

"Nathan." I say. "I need you." I gesture to the floor. He stands up and follows me back to the basement. "Less than a minute?" I ask Raylen. He nods into his pillow.

"Thirty one seconds." He mutters. "Where did you go?"

"I got Daddy." I say. He shifts to glance at Nathan, who plops down on the bed.

"Why?" He asks. I start rubbing his back again and look at my husband.

"Raylen was telling me how he has no friends, how he saw Jake with his hand up Megan's dress, how he has nobody and he thinks he's going to die alone."

Nathan's eyebrows raise.

"Let's have a talk little man. Man to man, okay?"

"Okay." Raylen says, his voice muffled by the pillow.

I stand up. Nathan darts out to kiss my cheek as I slip out the door. I smile at him and go upstairs.

I sit down on Raylen's bed.

"Did you kiss a girl in elementary school?" I ask him. He rolls over, his eyes red rimmed as he nods his head. "Do you count it?" He shakes his head. I nod slowly. "Amanda Baldwin, remember I told you about her last night?" He nods. "I liked her for a really long time." I say. "And when she broke my heart, she cut off all hope I had for a future. I thought I would die alone."

"Really?" He asks. I nod.

"I would always run to open doors for Grandma and Aunt Peyton...or anybody really. I loved pulling out chairs and pushing people in. I was the classic gentlemen." I laugh. "But when she broke my heart, I turned into a real ass. I let doors slam in peoples faces and I would laugh at how bewildered they looked. I would cuss out girls, make fun of people, just be a classic asshole. Everyone would tell me to stop but I couldn't. I was going to die alone. I was certain. I had the tiniest sliver of hope. I didn't crush on anybody to avoid getting hurt. I would bury my feelings and just be miserable all the time." I say. "I liked nobody for years. Until one day when I was twenty three years old and a women in a black leather jacket came busting into my French class."

He sits up. "Mama?" His eyes widen. I nod my head.

"She pissed me off and I hated her."

"You hated Mama? You worship her."

"I do worship her, but I hated her for a while. I didn't know about her family. I didn't know her situation, I just thought she was a bitch. I was actually afraid of her because of that glare, you know-"

"Where her eyes make you want to run to the depths of hell because it might be safer?" My son chuckles and nods his head. "I've been getting that glare since I was a baby."

"Well it wasn't just the glare. It was the whole aura of her. She spoke another language, was rude and cold hearted, and her ancestors created a beheading machine." I smile. "I remember I was going to get worksheets for Mace and I and she shoved past me, elbowing me in the ribs. When I called her rude, she cussed me out in French. She glared at me and I almost winced." I laugh. "And then she slammed her shoulder into mine and went back to her seat. We went back and forth like that, hating each other with a passion. I would make fun of her for not talking to her Mom-she even slapped me once. I remember catching her smoking and ripping the cigarette from her mouth, she called me little to be a brat in regards to my man parts."

"Ouch." He cringes and I smile.

"And then the teacher asked her to tutor me and she agreed and we ended up having sex."

"No!" He gasps. "Was Mama a virgin?"

"Yes." I nod. "She took my first kiss and my first everything in the matter of an hour." I shake my head. "Long story short, I thought for years that I would be alone forever. Now I've been married for seventeen years and I have four children. I'm not alone, I just had to be patient. But we found each other at the right time and that's why I think it worked out so much."

Raylen frowns down at his blanket.

"I need to tell you something." He mumbles.

"Alright."

"I stole twenty dollars out of your wallet." He grabs a glass of water my wife must have brought him and sips it.

"Why?" I narrow my eyes.

"So I could by Megan flowers..." he frowns. "I hate Jake Dad, I hate him so much. I don't want to go to school until I switch. I hate him."

"You're going to school until you switch." I say.

He looks at me, not surprised by my answer.

"You love her a lot, don't you?"

I smile.

"I love her so much it hurts. But I also hate her sometimes too. But it's okay. She hates me too." I grin.

"You hate her but you love her?"

"Yes." I say. "She's infuriating, but she's incredible. I hope you find somebody as good to you as your mother is to me."

I hear footsteps in the basement, and then Odeletta walks into the room.

"I'm hungry." She says. "I am going to the grocery store. Do you two want anything?"

"Can you bring me back a friend?" Raylen asks lazily. She frowns, and then she looks at me.

"No thank you, amour."

"Okay." She says. She darts down and gives me a kiss. "I love you beau."

"I love you too mon armor." I smile. She kisses me again, ruffles Raylen's hair, and then heads for the door.

"Mama, will you get me Gatorade?"

"We have gatorade." She says.

"But we don't have blue cherry. All we have is yellow and red."

She sighs. "We'll see."

Her footsteps disappear. When I hear her walking around upstairs, I turn back to Raylen.

"Long story short buddy, I thought I was going to elementary school with my future wife, yet my future wife lived in France." I pause. "I thought I was going to die alone, and now I'm married with four kids. You're not going to be alone, bud. There are a lot of people out there."

He nods slowly.

"Maybe I'll meet a great girl at my new school."

"Maybe you will. But if you don't, don't be heartbroken. Maybe your future wife is Australian or something."

He smiles a little.

"I hope I meet her soon."