Unknown by Christopher Smith Page A

been mopped and some of the clutter was gone.  
    On the kitchen table, I saw the reason for the cooking and the cleaning—there was a chocolate cake on a cake stand and a couple of balloons tied to a wrapped present.
    She turned to me when I walked in and for the first time since I could remember, it was obvious that she wasn’t drunk.   There was a glass of wine next to her on the kitchen counter, but she wasn’t drunk.   “Happy birthday,” she said.  
    She actually remembered.   “Thanks.”
    “I’m making your favorite.”
    I didn’t have a favorite.   What did she consider my favorite?
    I looked over at the stove and saw a large pot of tomato sauce with meatballs.   And I have to admit, while my mother was no cook, it did smell good.   Maybe it’ll turn out to be my favorite.
    She put down the spoon she was holding and came around to give me a hug.   “You’re growing up,” she said.   “When did you get these muscles?”
    “I’ve been working out in my room.”
    She took a step back.   “So, that’s what you’ve been doing in there.”
    “I’m tired of being skinny.”
    “Then let’s get some food into you.”
    “Where’s Dad?”
    She went to the pot and stirred.   “He’s out.”
    “Is he coming for dinner?”
    “You know how he can be, honey.   He gets out there with his friends and then he just forgets.   I told him we were having a special dinner.   I think he’ll remember.”
    He wasn’t coming.   I knew it but I didn’t say anything.   And to tell the truth, I wasn’t disappointed.   He’d just spoil it, anyway.
    “That gift is from both of us.   Why don’t you open it before we eat?”
    “Dad knew it was my birthday?”
    “Of course, he did.   He asked me to tell you happy birthday if he didn’t see you.”   She pointed at the gift.   “He’s the one who picked that out.”
    My father took the time to pick something out for me?   I looked at my mother and felt as though I was in some sort of alternate universe and the suckerpunch line was coming.   Maybe it was inside the box.   I opened it and, with a surprise I couldn’t mask, I found a PlayStation 3.  
    My mother was beaming at me.  
    “Mom, we can’t afford this.   We don’t have the money for this.”
    “That’s where you’re wrong.”  
    “Did Dad get a job?”
    “ I got a job.   At the bank.   All those phone calls finally worked out.   I called again this morning and talked to Sandy, my old boss.   With all the foreclosures and refis, things are picking up there again and she asked if I’d like my old position back.”
    “That’s terrific.”
    “I start next week.   Full time with full benefits, just like before.”
    She looked happy.   I walked over and gave her a hug.   “I’m proud of you,” I said.  
    “I know it’s been hard,” she said.   “I also know you’re not in your room all the time just so you can work out.   You’re in there so you don’t have to deal with us.”
    “Mom--”
    “Your Dad is looking for work,” she said, pulling away.   “When I got the news this morning about the job, we had a talk.   We need to get on track again.   We’re going to do our best.   It won’t be perfect, but we’re going to try.”
    Behind her, a pot of water started to boil.   She put a box of spaghetti in it and gave it a whirl with her spoon.   As I watched her, I remembered how it used to be before they each lost their jobs.   How it was before each started to drink.   It had been like this.   Not perfect, just as she said, but at least I didn’t’ loathe coming home and dart straight for my room.
    She was preparing two plates for us when the door opened and my father stepped inside.   In a flash, I could tell he’d been drinking.   He shut the door too hard behind him and nodded at me.   “Like your gift?”
    “It’s amazing.”
    “Came with a game, didn’t it?”
    “‘Killzone 3’.”
    “Well, let’s hope you kill the