Jake had physically froze beside me as if that would actually solve anything. "Just ignore him," he muttered staring straight ahead like we had all been raised to do. However over my years I have found a far more fun and effective approach. "I'm rolling down the window," He grabbed my arm "Like hell you are!" I reached for the switch and inched it down a bit, looking straight at the man. Jake was practically laying on me, and I knew now was one of the only times being dragged to mass at least once a week for 17 years of my life would pay off. I started spurting out any Latin word I could remember as well as mixing in the bit of Italian I knew from working with Milan. I then looked at Jake and hit him screaming the Italian phrase that I haunted me in my dreams Get out there you fat cow! Walk like hell or you might as well light a cigarette and burn this whole place down, Holy Mother Mary I'll murder all of you! I continued to hit him and as the panhandler, who did not need any money since his 'ratty' t-shirt was actually just a Ralph Lauren polo from the eighties and the stains had been ironed into it, not to mention the nice watch on his wrist, started to back away. To top off my performance I started drawing the cross across my body pointing out at the traffic all around us and repeating the Hail Holy Queen prayer my grandmother had made everyone memorize in order to receive their Christmas gifts. The panhandler ran away from my car and Jake quickly rolled up the window and frantically checked to make sure the car was locked "What the literal hell was that!" he screamed looking back to make sure the man wasn't coming back. Traffic moved a little so I had a moment to ignore him as I got to move my car maybe three hundred feet before coming to an utter stand still. "It's how you get rid of people." he hit my arm "no that's how you get murdered!" I shook my head "I've done it a million times, they become more scared of you, especially when you start getting in a fight with someone else." he just shook his head "I just want out of this car..." I unlocked the doors which really made him flip out as he reached to quickly lock them again "Never do that!" he shouted moving his rather large body closer to the middle console "You wanted out," I spoke innocently, feeling a bit of joy, knowing he was just uncomfortable enough.

"What took you so long?" My mother shouted running out the door to greet us, Georgia in tow. "Your daughter is insane!" Jake shouted jumping out of the car, like it was going to burn him if he was in it any longer. My mom raised an eyebrow at me "Erin?" I climbed out of the car and walked towards my trunk "We had a difference of opinion on how to handle a situation." he scoffed popping open the trunk, grabbing his duffel bag out. "Did your horoscope tell you that?" I glared at him as my mom gasped "Erin are you still reading that utter nonsense? I told you that hippie trash could only lead to trouble, new religion and all!" I kicked Jake and then looked my mother dead in the eyes "Mom, I read it to get a laugh in the morning... do I need to swear on Vogue to convince you?" she narrowed her eyes "I'd prefer a real bible." she's been mad at me ever since at my last niece's christening I gave her a copy of Vogue instead of an Illustrated children's bible. In order to enter my parents house that night I was forced to promise to give her rosary beads, which in reality meant I was going to buy a small crucifix and attach it to a emerald green strand of beads I had worn when I met Cindy Crawford and Heidi Klum at Fashion Week, and then dunk it in holy water. To each their own I say.

I put all three duffel bags on my arm, barely able to shut the trunk and then waddle into the classic Cape Cod style house, hoping I wasn't the last of my siblings to have shown up. However as I passed the pile of shoes in the hallway I knew I was going to be stuck taking the attic room. I banged on one of the shut bedroom doors hoping one of my brothers would be in there.

"In a minute Mom!" Patrick shouted back and I could hear the giggling coming from his girlfriend he was most certainly not supposed to have in the same room as him with the door shut. I hit the door again. "Mom! Chill out!" he shouted and I could hear his looming steps towards the door before it was ripped open. "Erin you could have fucking said it was you!" his voice had lowered a bit and I pointed to the closet door "Amy you can come out," Patrick hit me and pointed down stairs "she can hear everything," I shoved one of my duffels into his arms "help me get into the attic, I'm too short." he glanced back at the closet door "come out babe," Amy slipped out of the closet still buttoning up her shirt, which I found absolutely hilarious. "Thank god it was you," she whispered stepping lightly across the room towards me, arms open ready to give me a hug. Instead I shoved another duffel into her arms and looked at Patrick "why haven't you told her we only hug dogs and kids under the age of six around here." I asked dead pan, which made him snicker a bit, stepping pass me and walking down to the end of the hallway, pulling down the stairs that led to the attic. "I fucking hate it up here," I muttered as Patrick made me be the first one to go up the creaky old stairs. "Erin watch your mouth!" our mom called from the bottom of the stairs. I turned around and jabbed Patrick in the shoulder, mouthing something about how ridiculous her hearing is.

I collapsed on the bed leaving my duffel on the floor beside me. The only good thing about the attic room was the view. Besides the view there was absolutely nothing good about it. It was drafty, the windows that gave it such a great view needed to be replaced in the 90s and haven't. There was always something about it that seemed damp, not mildew, just damp, and there was no way to get the smell of the ocean or cigars out of the walls or furniture. As kids this was the room we snuck up to with the pack of cigarettes we had stolen from our grandpa to act all cool, knowing anyone would have thought that it was just left over from the 70s when this was the only room smoking was allowed in. There were no curtains to cover the windows, which was really a shame since the sun shone right into the eyes of the people sleeping in the bed. Not to mention it was a pain in the ass room to get to and at night you were basically shut in because when the stairs were down it blocked the hallway bathroom door, and if someone closed it too violently it would get a bit stuck and would take two people to get it back open.

Patrick and Amy dropped my other bags down and then proceeded to get all touchy feely with hugs and a few kisses. I frowned feeling physically sick to my stomach, especially since I knew that the most recent interaction with any sort of straight man that actually got my heart pumping and hormones flying was with Jake... the triple threat jackass. I rolled my eyes at the two of them and walked towards one of the windows, opening it a bit to hear the ocean. I looked down at the yard and saw half my sibling and nieces and nephews all either running around or begining on the heavy drinking. I walked past the making out couple and back down the stairs, I needed a drink after traveling with Jake.

As I walked into the kitchen my phone started beeping again and I heard a little irritated scream come from the person standing at the fridge. I paid no attention, irritated screams were a common occurrence in my family and there was nothing to do about it but ignore it and move on, preferably with an alcoholic drink in hand. I started looking around for one of the many cocktail shakers we had in the house, finding what was probably the oldest and most beat up of the bunch I started pouring in the vodka and pineapple juice which I had grown found of in college when I felt a hugging child attack me. "My god take all my money just leave me the cocktail!" I shouted turning around to see my oldest Nephew, Nick. "Nicky you're 16 you have got to stop it with these hugs!" I kissed his cheek and then slapped his cheek, reaching around him for a martini glass "Aunt Erin..." he whispered looking around, I glanced with him, seeing the person still in the fridge. My phone beeped again and the fridge doors were violently shut, Jake's head appearing. I pointed my martini glass at him "Hey, this is not your house, get out, little jerk ratting me out to my mother like that... get the fuck out." I pointed from him to the door, shooing him with my hands "Erin watch your mouth!" I heard called from the deck which really only made me roll my eyes. Jake was still standing there as my phone went off again "I'm going to throw your phone into the ocean." he pointed a finger at me "I'd like to see you try, so scared of a panhandler you were practically in my lap!" I shouted back which made his face turn red that's when Nicky decided to join in the conversation "don't you play for the Red Sox?" Jake's face got all scrunched up and he stormed out the back door leaving us in the kitchen. "What did you want Nicky?" I asked pouring my cocktail into the glass, he looked back around and then pointed at my cocktail "Aunt Erin, just give me a bit, I'm 16." I put my hands on my hips and frowned at him a bit "I should tell your mother, she would be so mad... and if your grandma found out..." I smiled reaching for a little glass in the cabinet above me. I took the cocktail shaker and the glass by the sink, which blocked everyone's view of the kitchen and poured what was left over into the glass. I handed it to Nicky with a warning "It's more vodka than pineapple," I picked up my own drink and dragged him into the hallway "Cheers," I whispered which made him laugh as he took a sip only to start choking "Aunt Erin!" his eyes were wide as he looked down at his glass and back at me. I took a long sip of my own cocktail and shrugged "I warned you."

Patrick and Amy's footsteps came running down the stairs and I watched as Nick started to freak out, trying to hide his glass. Patrick grabbed his waist making Nick jump practically to the ceiling. "Underage drinking now are we?" Patrick laughed as Nick stood against the wall, calming his heart. "Uncle Patrick don't tell my mom," poor little Nicky's head hung a little, which only gave Patrick the choice but to ruffle up his hair "Dude there is no way in hell I would ever tell Anna you're drinking, but if my mom catches you she'll drag you to church and make you take communion, and out here the communion wine sucks balls." I frowned at my brother, knowing he could do so much better on his descriptive terms, but the description works, the wine tasted like absolute shit, like watered down grape juice left over from a Cold War panic stash.

"Nick!" Anna, his mom called from the kitchen and he started flipping out looking at Patrick and I. Patrick took Nick's cup and then spilt some of it down the front of his shirt. "Erin I told this was too strong!" Patrick started laughing, patting Nick's alcohol soaked shirt as Anna walked into the hallway. She crossed her arms looking at us "Are you forcing my son to drink alcohol?" Patrick and I both shook our heads "Patrick can't handle my cocktail and spilt it down Nicky's shirt," I pouted my lips pulling the wet shirt away from Nick's chest before letting it cling back. "Nicky you poor thing, you'll probably smell like vodka all night," Anna cooed and I smiled looking blissfully up at the ceiling "Those were the nights," Anna swatted at me and pulled at Nick's arm "Go change your shirt," he walked away and once he was up the stairs she took the glass from Patrick's hand downing the rest of the drink in one gulp. "that's like straight vodka... tell me the truth guys was he?" we both nodded laughing and she smiled "I suppose it's better than the cigarettes we used to steal." I nodded "his liver may fail but at least his lungs will survive," she swatted at me again "that's not much of a trade off," I shrugged "at least you can drink in restaurants,"

**********

I laid in the bed, a cocktail and a glass of water sitting on my nightstand, my laptop resting on a pillow beside me. I'd decided to open all the room's windows since it wasn't supposed to rain until tomorrow, there was a chance I could catch the magical feeling of the cape I had as a kid coming here with my six sibling. There was a knock on my floor where the opening was "come up!" I shouted not bothering to get out of bed, I really didn't really want to shove the stairs down tonight, if they wanted up they could figure it out.

The stairs went down and up came my older sister Jackie with a bottle of red wine in her hand. "hey!" I smiled as she just frowned, laying down on the bed. "what's wrong this times?" she smirked, every time we saw each other it was like her life was falling apart. "we're officially getting divorced." I moved my laptop off the bed and threw back the comforter, letting her in. "but Mike is here, I saw him..." she nodded popping the cork off the wine bottle. "only here for appearance sake, besides the last thing I want to do is tell our devout Catholic mother that I'm getting a divorce on the Cape... it's her happy place." she leaned her head against my shoulder taking a swig from the bottle "you're supposed to let it breathe," she started laughing "fuck if I care, I want to get drunk and forget I'm married," I picked up my own cocktail "funny, I want to get drunk and pretend I'm married," she sat up a second taking another swig staring at me "fuck off Erin," I've learned over the years that the only adjective, verb, or sometimes noun Jackie knows when drinking is 'fuck'. I took a sip of my cocktail "you want a fucking husband, get a fucking bag of potatoes, they don't argue with you and you can just throw them out when you're done with the little fuckers, or chop them up and cook them." she drank more wine and part of me thought about getting her to slow down on the wine, then I remembered I literally took a cocktail to bed with me.

"Are we alcoholics?" I asked sipping more of my cocktail as she just shrugged "Great Aunt Mary used to tell me that alcoholics just couldn't handle their alcohol and AA meetings were for quitters..." I started laughing "and then she'd say Pass the vodka you people depress the hell out of me." Jackie was laughing way too hard at that, but I knew she had the same image of Aunt Mary I had, her light pink dress shirt was stiffly starched with so many pearls around her neck you would have thought she was made of them, and bright red lipstick was always perfect on her lips and permanently stained her favorite martini glass no matter how many times you scrubbed the rim. "You know I could just be Aunt Mary... screw Mike and his fucking career and money, I'm fucking Jackie Bright not Jackie fucking Harlow!" I started laughing at her outburst but grabbed her arm as she started to climb out of the bed "where are you going?" she looked at me like I was an idiot "Dad's a judge, I'm getting this marriage ended now!" I slapped my hand over her mouth "that is so not how it works Jackie," she frowned and settled back into the bed "I know..." she drank more wine and sighed "I need to start carrying around martini supplies in my purse." I snickered taking another sip of my cocktail "I'll buy you a kit for your birthday." she hugged me "oh you're the best sister ever," I raised my cocktail "three cheers for that!" Jackie squealed and then we could hear footsteps come up the stairs. I set my cocktail down and she tried to hide the wine bottle behind her back.

"Are you drinking without me?" Sean whispered walking over to our bed. Jackie pulled the bottle of wine out from behind her back and offered him the bottle but he shook his head and pulled out a flask. Jackie pointed at the flask and looked at me "That's when you know you're an alcoholic," I burst up laughing as Sean's face turned read and slapped Jackie's leg "I am not... I only drink heavily when around you all you other drunks." he started laughing sipping from the flask as I held my cocktail again, wishing I had fixed another. I ruffled up my brother's hair "How's mom?" he looked at me and then took a large drink from the flask. "she still refers to me as very social," I dropped my jaw "no," he nodded "I heard her talking to Georgia Reynolds about all of us... then Georgia asked if I had a girlfriend and mom said no he's just very social, hasn't met anyone recently. " I pouted my lips at my older brother. "Poor Sean," he rolled his eyes "I suppose it's better than when she spent a week praying for my soul, that was exhausting." I started laughing finishing off my cocktail "what's going to happen when you meet someone you want to marry?" he burst up laughing "I would love to see what she calls me then, it's unbelievable how hard it is for her to say the word gay." "Sean watch your mouth," Jackie mocked our mom drinking more of the wine. He looked around the room and sighed "This room makes me want to smoke," I held up a finger and leaned over digging in the nightstand "found these earlier," his and Jackie's eyes widened. "We shouldn't..." he whispered looking at the old box, it was probably one of the last packs we stole from our Grandfather before he was forced to stop smoking. "but.." Jackie would do it, Jackie would smoke the whole pack if she thought it would make her feel better. "what if we just light it and set it in the window sill for old times sake," Sean offered and I tossed him the pack looking for the old ashtray and lighter we had snuck up here.

We huddled around the window like kids watching earth worms bake on the sidewalk at recess. There was something about lighting a cigarette in this room that made it seem like we were kids again. Jackie lit the cigarette, placing it in the tray so that the smoke mostly went out the window. We slowly went back towards the bed, continuing our conversation, watching as the smoke rolled out the window with the salty breeze. I'm sure it wasn't as poetic as it looked, but I'd had five cocktails that might as well just been martini glasses full of vodka, and it looked like fucking magic to see the toxic little thing burn away on the window sill.