Welcome! The word prompt this week is "cabinet". There will only be a few more episodes of "Two of Hearts." Then we'll move on to one of my short stories, "The One Who Got Away."
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She opened the cabinet in the credenza. Bingo! She found his stash on the first try. There were three bottles of vodka in there. That meant he had one he was working on. Forced to discuss the issue, she prepared a fresh pot of coffee first.
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She opened the cabinet in the credenza. Bingo! She found his stash on the first try. There were three bottles of vodka in there. That meant he had one he was working on. Forced to discuss the issue, she prepared a fresh pot of coffee first.
“Stan! I have a fresh coffee. Want some?”
“Nah,” he called from the bedroom. “What time is
it?”
“Five,” she replied.
“Forget the coffee. It’s cocktail hour.” He
fastened the sash on his terry robe as he wandered out of the bedroom and
plopped down on the sofa.
Cocktail hour? Jen’s blood began to boil. “That’s
what I want to talk to you about,” she started.
“Cocktail hour? It’s been five ever since I can
remember. Would you make me a vodka tonic?”
“No.” She sauntered in with her mug of java and
joined him on the couch.
“What do you mean, ‘no’?”
“I know you’re drinking.
Drinking heavily. I found the bottles you hid in the trash and your secret
supply, too.”
“What? I didn’t hide
anything. This is my house and if I want to drink vodka, I’ll drink vodka.”
“Stan. You know what the
doctor said.”
“Are you gonna sit there
and lecture me?”
“What if I am?”
“It’s my life, Jen.
Mine. Not yours.” He pushed to his feet and went to the sideboard.
“It’s my life, too,
Stan. That’s what you don’t seem to understand.”
“Really? So you’re in
jeopardy of dropping dead from a stroke or having your brain fail you at any
time?”
“Well, no, but…”
“No buts! I am. My life
is in jeopardy. And if alcohol makes it better, then I’m gonna drink.”
Tears gathered in her
eyes. “You’re shortening your life.”
“It’s my life to
shorten. You think this is living? My brain injury is probably permanent. Or it
would be better by now.”
“You don’t know that,”
she argued, though secretly she agreed with him.
“This isn’t living for
me. It’s existing. I know this affects you, too. But you’re young You can build
another life. I can’t.”
She stared at her hands
as the tears ran down her cheeks.
“Please, Jen. Baby,
honey. Let me do what I want.”
She took a deep,
shuddering breath. “Does it make you feel better?”
“It does. I’m calmer.
Stuff doesn’t bother me so much. If I forget something, I just chalk it off to
the booze.” He padded to the kitchen and filled a glass with ice.
“So you’re hiding behind
it?”
“Okay. Yeah. Maybe.
Maybe I’m hiding behind it. But that’s my choice.”
“I love you so much,
Stan. I don’t want you to die. I know this is a different you, but it’s still you.
And I want you, any way I can get you, around forever.”
He sighed and swirled
his ice cubes. “But that’s not what I want. I don’t want to leave you, but
every day, yes, every day, I see how much I'm failing you. You used to be able
to count on me. And I was there. Now I’m useless. You can’t count on me for
being anything but a burden. It’s killing me.”
“You’re not a burden,”
she lied.
He laughed. “Liar. I
am, and you know it.”
I want to grab Stan by the shoulders and shake him until his teeth rattle. Poor Jen! Great scene.
ReplyDeleteI second Susanne's comment!
ReplyDeleteWhat a rough patch to go through. My heart breaks for her.
ReplyDeleteSad that he wants her to agree to allowing him to become an alcoholic.
ReplyDeleteMy heart breaks for both of them. I look forward to seeing how she reacts next. Wonderful scene with deep emotions.
ReplyDelete