Chapter VI, Scene 3.

Note: This is a revised version of this scene, and replaces the one that I ended with in 2010.

     Kelly’s decision lasted all of two days.  Michelle, while not quite avoiding her, had been withdrawn and as the weekend neared Kelly began to wonder how much responsibility she herself carried for the tension between them.  Michelle’s life had also changed drastically with Kaitlan’s departure and it occurred to Kelly that perhaps she wasn’t allowing Michelle to process in her own way.

     After two days of second guessing her decision, it was easy to accept the beer that Michelle offered her on Friday night.  It may just not be the time, Kelly reasoned, to try and figure out everything that was wrong with her life.  Let things settle down before making a major life decision.  The couple had a pleasant evening watching a movie and ended the night making what Kelly realized was probably the first real love in months.  No one got drunk, no one yelled or pleaded.  It was, simply, nice.

     The two headed to Toni and Carol’s the next afternoon where Toni and Michelle were planning to work on the old Chevelle Toni was restoring in her garage.  Once the two butches had vanished into their domain, Carol poured two glasses of wine and sat at the kitchen table across from Kelly.

     “How are things going?”

     “Better, maybe.  I’m not sure,” Kelly responded, sipping her wine.  “We had a huge fight a couple of days ago but it’s been ok since then.”

     “So you worked it out?”  Carol looked at her curiously.

     “Not really.  I just decided that maybe I wasn’t giving Michelle enough credit for missing Kaitlan.  I mean, her world has changed dramatically too.”

     Carol made a noise.  “You fought about Kaitlan?”

     “No, no.  We fought about Susan, which led to other things.  But looking back I think maybe Michelle is feeling a little lost now that she’s not expected to be ‘daddy’ anymore.” Kelly sighed.  “She sure doesn’t like the idea of my working more.”

     “God, what did Susan do this time?”

     “Nothing, really.  I gave her a ride.  Michelle wasn’t happy.  She said some awful things, things I can’t imagine she really meant.”  Kelly looked away.  “At least, I hope she didn’t mean them.”

     “Like what?”  Carol refilled their glasses.  “If I can ask.”

     Kelly shifted uncomfortably, aware that she had once more given up on a decision to stop drinking and the thought that it might prove Michelle correct.  “She said I could easily be just like her.”

     “Ouch.  I’m sure she didn’t mean that.”

     “The thing is it kind of scares me.  That I could be.  If I didn’t have Michelle to take care of me.”  Kelly bit her lip.  “It was really unnerving.  It still is.”

     Carol was silent for a moment.  Finally, she looked at Kelly with sympathy.  “You’re really that concerned about your drinking?”  When Kelly nodded, she continued.  “What keeps you doing it then?”

     “I don’t know.  Forever seems like such a long time, and when I stop it seems like nothing gets better.”

     “Well, I heard once that if you can stop drinking for thirty days you aren’t an alcoholic.  That isn’t forever, maybe you should try it?  Although I honestly don’t think you are.”  Carol looked at the wine bottle on the table.  “I’d be willing to do it with you.”

     “Thanks, but I really need to sort this out on my own.  Although it’s a good idea.  I haven’t really tried to stop for a specific period of time.  Michelle might be able to understand something like that.”  Kelly finished her glass and smiled.  “Although I don’t think I’ll start until Monday.”

     Carol laughed.  “Alright then, I’ll get another bottle out of the fridge.”

     As she watched her friend opening the wine, Kelly wondered if she could keep from drinking for an entire month.  It was much less daunting an idea than stopping forever, and success would mean that she needed to look elsewhere for a solution to the problems plaguing her relationship.   She would do it.  Starting Monday.  Until then, there was no point to waste good wine.

     She’d had enough wine by the time she and Michelle got ready for bed that night that it didn’t occur to her how contradictory she sounded as she asked, “Michelle … what would you think if I quit drinking for a month?”

     Michelle pulled her t-shirt over head and looked at Kelly quizzically.  “Why would you do that?”

     “A test.  To see if my drinking is a problem.  I don't want to be like Susan.”  Kelly turned down her side of the bed and sank onto the mattress.

     “If you want to.  But you aren't like Susan.  You have me.”  Michelle stretched and climbed under the covers.  “I wouldn't let anything happen to you.”

     What's that supposed to mean?  Kelly didn't verbalize the thought, not wanting to get into another argument.  “I need to know.”

     “Fine.  You don't want me to quit too, do you?”

     “No, of course not.”  Kelly felt a prick of irritation that Michelle seemed to be making the whole idea about her.  “I just … I need to know.”

     “Whatever.”  Michelle closed her eyes and turned on her side.  “I think it's kind of silly, but you do what you need to.”

     After turning out the light, Kelly lay on her back and stared through the darkness at the ceiling.  It felt strange, wanting to do something so badly that Michelle didn't agree with.  As she pondered this, she realized that in the past she had always deferred to her partner when it came to doing things.  This would be the first time she had gone ahead with something after Michelle had said she saw no point.

     She fell asleep wondering when she had become so dependent on what Michelle thought.

Chapter VI, Scene 2.

 

     The phone rang a little after five. Kelly put down her book and answered it when she saw Kaitlan’s number on the caller ID.

     “Mom called me,” Kaitlan said after a brief hello. “She was really mad at you.”

     “She called you? When?” Kelly hadn’t thought Susan even had Kaitlan’s cell phone number.

     “Yesterday. She was really messed up, I think.”

     “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. That had to be hard.” Kelly sent a mental curse at her sister.

     “It’s ok. Did something happen, because she was royally pissed.” Kaitlan sounded concerned. “She said you stranded her.”

     “She called me Monday and I picked her up. She had drugs on her so I told her to get out of the car. I’m sorry she’s pissed, but I’m not going to be a taxi for her when she’s using.” Kelly got up and walked toward the kitchen, intending to pour a glass of wine. “I wonder what prompted her to call you.”

     “I don’t know. She was being weird. I just thought you should know she did.”

     “Thank you, dear. Are things ok otherwise?”

     “Yeah, I’m really liking it here. But I miss ya’ll.” Kaitlan called to someone. “I gotta go, we’re heading to dinner.”

     “Love you, sweetheart.” Kelly reached for a wine glass after putting the phone down. The book she had bought was interesting, but it was making her uncomfortable and a glass of wine sounded good. Just one, maybe another with dinner. She wouldn’t drink at Michelle any more, she had promised herself that.

     “You saw Susan?” Michelle’s voice was hard.

     Crap. Slowly, Kelly turned to face her partner. “On Monday. She was in a bind.”

     “She’s always in a bind when she calls you. Jesus, Kelly, when are you going to stop bailing her out?”

     Kelly concentrated on pouring her wine. “She would have gotten arrested if I hadn’t picked her up.”

     Michelle moved into the kitchen, placing herself in Kelly’s line of sight. “Good. Getting arrested is what she needs. Especially if she’s using.”

     “I don’t really want to talk about it, Michelle.”

     “You don’t want to talk about anything lately. I might as well not even be here.” Michelle crossed her arms and glared.

     “Well I definitely don’t want to talk about Susan,” Kelly replied. “Especially if you’re in a mood.”

     Michelle snorted. “If I’m in a mood? You’ve been in a mood for weeks.”

     “Michelle, please. I don’t want to fight.” Kelly took a long drink of her wine. The tart fruitiness was a welcome diversion to her unpleasant thoughts.

     “Well, at least if we’re fighting you’re talking to me. Otherwise I can’t drag two words out of you.”

     Kelly ground her teeth for a moment. “I tried talking to you. You blew up.”

     “Do you even love me anymore? Or am I just a paycheck.” Michelle moved to block her way as Kelly started toward the living room.

     Stung, Kelly stopped and stared at her. “How can you ask that? You’re the one who doesn’t want me to work full time. Of course I still love you!” Do you? Do you really?

     “You have a funny way of showing it, then.”

     “I’m sorry I’ve been in a funk lately,” Kelly said quietly. “Kaitlan’s leaving really hit me hard.”

     “Yeah, you don’t get to play Supermom anymore. Poor, poor Kelly.” Michelle yanked a beer out of the refrigerator and opened it. “What about being a wife for a change?”

     “I want to be Kelly for a change,” Kelly replied angrily. “What’s wrong with that?”

     Michelle rolled her eyes. “You don’t even know who Kelly is,” she retorted. “Am I supposed to just sit here while you go find out?”

     Kelly blinked away unexpected tears at the venom in Michelle’s voice. “I’d think you’d be happy that I want to get to know myself.”

     “You want to know who you are? You’re my wife, that’s who. And you should be glad for it; you’d never make it on your own. You’d end up like Susan, drunk all the time and just looking for someone to take care of her.”

     “I am not like Susan,” Kelly screamed, finally overwhelmed by the emotions rushing through her. “I am not an addict, I function just fine!”

     “Maybe you aren’t,” Michelle responded. “But it wouldn’t take much to put you there. You should be glad there’s someone around to keep you functioning.”

     Kelly’s mouth moved silently for a couple of seconds. Finally, she shot out words she thought she’d never say to Michelle. “Fuck you.”

     “Fuck yourself,” Michelle said with a sneer. “Let me know how you like it.” She turned and walked away, leaving Kelly quivering with anger.

     How could Michelle look at her the way she seemed to? Did her feelings mean so little that Michelle thought she could say such cruel things and then just walk off? Kelly finished her wine and started for the bottle, drawing up as she neared the counter.

     Another glass would simply be drinking to spite Michelle. There was no point to it. Michelle didn’t think she could survive on her own? She may not think Kelly was an addict, but she had made it clear she noticed how much Kelly drank. Kelly would simply stop drinking. Maybe that would show Michelle that she could stand on her own two feet. Maybe then Michelle would treat her with something other than irritation.

     Maybe then the thought of being so like Susan wouldn’t be so painful.

Chapter VI, Scene 1.

I am my own unique self – special, creative, and wonderful

     Kelly was asleep by the time Michelle came home. From the muttering and noise as she came down the hall in the dark, she had been drinking heavily. Kelly, not exactly sober herself, woke enough to move over when her partner climbed into bed. Michelle said nothing, and Kelly fell back to sleep with a thought that alcohol seemed the only solution to arguments between them.

     A palpable sense of uneasiness descended on the house in the next couple of days. Even though Michelle didn't mention the fight or her words, her actions suggested she wasn't sorry for them and in fact she was miffed that Kelly hadn't apologized. Kelly, for her part, spent the time she couldn't avoid being near Michelle using wine to numb her swirling emotions and to stifle the urge to scream. She was miserable, and there seemed no end to her misery except through a chardonnay haze.

     On the third morning, Kelly woke to a headache and a roiling stomach. As she bent over the toilet, it occurred to her that she had completely forgotten all the reasons she had wanted to quit drinking in the first place. She had been so intent on drinking to avoid Michelle, drinking at her, that she had abandoned what progress she could claim toward sobriety. The realization clung to her through breakfast and hovered over her as she moved mechanically through her workday.

     When she finally left the office at one, she didn’t go home, instead driving almost aimlessly through town. She ended up at a used bookstore near UNC-G, one that she had always enjoyed browsing for their selection of lesbian romances. Romance was far from her mind now, however, and she wandered the stacks not sure of what she was in search of.

     “You look lost.” The voice belonged to a young girl with curly brown hair and an engaging smile. She was dressed in a flowing Indian-style skirt and Amnesty International t-shirt. Kelly had noticed her earlier behind the counter.

     “A little,” she admitted. “I’m not sure what I’m looking for.”

     “Well, what are you in the mood for; fiction, non-fiction?”

     Kelly sighed. “A how-to book for life, maybe?”

     The girl laughed. “Ah, more of an existential crisis.” She motioned toward the philosophy section. “I think I know something you might enjoy.”

     Kelly followed her and accepted the slim book the girl pulled off the shelf. The Wisdom of No Escape, she read, by a Buddhist nun named Pema Chödrön. She scanned the back, finding the description surprisingly interesting.

     “Pema’s stuff is great, but this is my favorite,” the girl said. “It really gets into the meat of life.”

     “Sounds good, I’ll take it,” Kelly replied. She wandered for a few more minutes before heading to the cash register.

     The girl smiled at her again. “If you like this, there are a couple of other authors I can turn you onto.”

     “You know a lot about Eastern philosophy, I take it?”

     “I’m majoring in philosophy, so yeah. That, and it helped me through a really tough time.” The girl glanced away for a second, her smile dimming. “When things seem darkly hopeless, sometimes you have to make your own sunshine.”

     “Well, I could use some sunshine,” Kelly commented. “And you certainly seem sunny enough, so it must work.”

     The girl laughed. “It took some work, but yes. I think I’m pretty sunny.”

     Kelly paid and left. She thought about the girl on the drive home, how easy her laugh had been, how just being near her had lifted Kelly’s own spirits. She was probably in her late twenties, not a child by any means, although not old enough to be as heart-worn as Kelly felt. Still, Kelly had seen deep pain in her eyes for a moment, pain that couldn’t have been easy to get past.

     She glanced at the bag on the seat next to her; if Pema Chödrön could allow her to smile half as easily, she would be eternally grateful.

Chapter V, Scene 3.

     Kelly was quite tipsy by the time Michelle arrived home from work.  Quite tipsy and quite cheerful.  She had spent the afternoon drinking and thinking about how much better her life was than Susan's.  The end result was that she was humming to herself as she fixed dinner when Michelle walked in the door.

     “My, aren't we in a good mood?”  Michelle dropped a kiss on her cheek on the way to the refrigerator for a beer.

     “Yes.”  Kelly wasn't going to mention that she had talked to, much less seen, Susan.  “It's been a pretty good day.”

     “Glad yours was.  Mine sucked.”  Michelle opened the beer and took a long swallow.  “They moved up the deadline on the quarterly reports and I spent all damned day tracking down information nobody seemed to have.”

     Kelly slid the pork chops into the oven.  “I'm sorry, honey.  You're home now, so relax.  Dinner won't be for an hour or so.”  They offered me a promotion, she wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come.  It would be a hard enough conversation without Michelle being irritated with her own job.

     “Great.  I'll be in the den.”

     Once she had vanished, Kelly poured another glass of wine and looked out the window over the kitchen sink.  She tended to get happy when she drank; with Michelle, it was the opposite.  If Michelle hadn't had a good day, it would get worse the more beer she consumed, until finally she was either screaming or trying to get Kelly into bed to “work off her frustrations”.  Kelly had a momentary thought that it was Michelle who should be trying to quit, not her.

     It was silly, of course.  Michelle found nothing wrong with finishing off a twelve-pack on a Friday night, or spending a Sunday in front of the TV with the coffee table covered in empty bottles, but she rarely overdid things during the week.  Kelly went to bed every night hoping she wouldn't awaken to a hangover.  Michelle could just stop when she decided it was time; Kelly wasn't finished until she could barely stand up.

     How anyone could miss her inebriation confused her, and yet it seemed no one could tell when she was ready to fall over.  Maybe it was her habit of drinking alone, or of topping her glass frequently, which made it appear she was drinking less than she really was.  Not that it mattered; drunk was drunk.  Whether Michelle, or Kaitlan, or anyone else could tell was irrelevant, Kelly could.

     Michelle came back for another beer, gave her a curious look, and left again without speaking.  Kelly sighed and drained her wine before refilling it from the box in the refrigerator.  There was no point in brooding if she wasn't going to put the effort in to do something about it.  Sobriety was something elusive, and she wasn't sure she would ever find it; wasn't sure she really wanted to.

     The first part of dinner was quiet, each woman lost in her own thoughts.  Eventually, however, wine loosened Kelly's tongue enough that she felt able to bring up her conversation at work.

     “Michelle … what would you think if I went back to school?”

     Michelle looked up from her plate quizzically.  “What for?”

     “Um, they offered me a promotion at work.  I'd have to take some classes at UNC-G.”  Kelly watched emotions flash across her partner's face.

     “A promotion?  More hours?  I thought you liked being part time.”

     Kelly sighed.  “I do.  But with Kaitlan gone, it's a little empty around here.”

     “So take up tennis again.  We don't need the extra money.”  Michelle poked at her plate.  “Why would they offer you a promotion anyway?  You're almost 46.”

     The burning that shot up Kelly's face was almost as painful as the knife she felt in her gut.  “Maybe because they like my work?  What kind of a thing is that to say, Michelle?”

     Michelle put her utensils down and looked her dead in the face.  “I don't like the idea.  You have a job here.  I make the money, you keep the house running.  That was the deal.”

     “It doesn't take that much to keep the house running with just the two of us, Michelle.”  Kelly felt the veins in her neck starting to throb.  “I can do both.  Or you could help out.  What's wrong with that?”

     “School?  And full time?  There'd be no time left for us.”

     Like we spend any time together now?  Kelly took a drink of wine to prevent that thought from verbalizing itself.  “It's a chance to grow.”

     “You don't need to grow,” Michelle retorted.  “If you think you do, take a pottery class or something.  You don't need to take on all of that.”

     “How do you know what I need?”  Kelly glared at her.

     Michelle stood up so fast her chair slid into the wall.  “I don't like it.  I don't know what's gotten into you, Kelly.  First you start talking about getting sober - which I notice hasn't gone anywhere, by the way – and now you need to grow?  There's nothing wrong with the way things are.  Half the dykes in town would kill to have what you do, someone who supports you.”

     “I want to be able to contribute!  I'm not the mom any more, Michelle.  I want to feel needed, can't you understand that?”  Kelly stood as well.

     “I do need you.  I need you to take care of the house and be here when I come home.  I need you beside me when I sleep.  That should be enough.”

     “It isn't.  I'm sorry.”  Kelly wished she hadn't spoken as soon as she saw the expression that settled over Michelle's face.

     “I'm sorry too.  I'm sorry I'm not enough for you.  I'm sorry I gave up my whole life so you could be a mom.  Do you think this is where I wanted to be at 45, working in an office?  No.  I had plans; dreams.  So did you, until Kaitlan.  So I adjusted, I gave you what you wanted.  Kaitlan's gone now.  I want my life back.  I want us back.”  Michelle drew in a breath and stared at her for a long moment.  “Oh, forget it.”  She stormed out of the room, leaving Kelly standing dazed.

     She had known all along that Michelle had taken Kaitlan in with misgivings.  Over the years, their family had seemed to settle into a quiet, comfortable rhythm, one in which Michelle appeared a contented participant.  She had obviously been wrong.  Now, it was like Michelle would accept nothing but Kelly's undivided attention, as if that could somehow make everything better, put things back to the way they had been before Kaitlan had come into their lives.

     The front door slammed, and a moment later Kelly heard tires squeal from the direction of the driveway.  Michele was gone, and in the mood she had taken with her wouldn't be back until late.  Slowly, Kelly sank back into her chair.  She wasn't sure she could give Michelle what she demanded, wasn't sure she wanted to.  Her confusion grew until the turmoil became overwhelming.  She got up and went to the kitchen, pulled down a juice glass, and poured it half full of bourbon.

     If she couldn't resolve, she would have to forget.  Maybe things would be better in the morning.

Chapter V, Scene 2.

     Kelly’s cell phone rang as she was getting back in her car after stopping to pick up a bottle of wine.  She glanced at the caller id and groaned before answering.

     “Kelly, I need a ride.”

     “Seriously, Susan?  I haven’t heard from you in three weeks.”  Kelly fastened her seatbelt and started the car.  Her sister’s words were slurred, and from the noise in the background Kelly surmised she was at a bar.

     “Seriously.  I’m in a jam.”

     “What is it this time?”  Kelly reached for the shift lever and then stopped, waiting for Susan to respond.

     “The cops are here.  If I don’t get a ride they’re going to arrest me.”  Susan said something away from the receiver.  “Please.”

     Kelly blew out her breath in disgust.  “Fine.  Where are you?”

     “Aubrey’s on West Market.”

     “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”  Kelly hung up and backed out of her parking spot.  Aubrey’s didn’t have the nerve to call itself a sports bar, and it wasn’t; it was a downtown dive, a dingy hole in the wall that catered to an unsavory crowd.  Kelly hated going to that section of town at all, but Susan getting arrested would mean no end of drama that Kelly would end up in the middle of.

     She had to park half a block down as all the spaces in front of the building were occupied by police cars.  As she walked up, an officer came out with a large, burly man in handcuffs.  He was staggering and muttering under his breath.  Another officer looked at her business suit and raised an eyebrow.

     “My sister called me.  She said she needed a ride.”

     The man nodded.  “Yup.”  He called inside, and a moment later a policewoman escorted Susan out the door.  Susan’s face was pale, and it was apparent she hadn’t showered in a couple of days.  There  was a smear of blood on her pale yellow shirt.

     “Kelly, thank God.”  Susan pulled away from the officer and darted towards her.

     “What the Hell is going on, Susan?”

     “Just … let’s get out of here.”  Susan took her arm.

     Kelly looked questioningly at the police standing nearby.  One of them made a shooing motion, and Kelly allowed Susan to guide her away from the bar and back down the sidewalk.  Once they were in the car and driving, Kelly glanced at her sister and realized she was stoned.

     “What happened?”

     “Some idiot narcked Jimmy out.”  Jimmy was Susan’s current boyfriend/supplier.  “Things got ugly and they busted the whole place.”

     “You aren’t carrying, are you?”  Kelly’s pulse quickened.

     “No.  Jesus, relax.”

     “How can you be stoned at one o’clock on a Thursday, Susan?”  Kelly pushed away the thought that, if not for the phone call, she’d have been on her way to her own kind of stoned already.

     Susan made a disgusted sound.  “Like I have anything better to do?  Don’t judge me, Sis.”

     “What happened to the rehab Dad said he was going to line up?”

     “Screw rehab.  What have I got to get clean for?”  Susan’s leg started moving up and down and she tapped on the window in what seemed a nervous tic.

     “I don’t know, your daughter might like to know what her mother is like at some point in her life.”

     Susan’s voice was fierce.  “I don’t have a daughter any more, thanks to you.”

     “What?”  Kelly was startled.  “What are you talking about, of course you do!”

     “You wanted a kid so you stole mine.”

     Kelly turned abruptly into the cemetery they were driving past, shoved the car into park, and turned to squarely face her sister.  “I did no such thing.”

     “Yes, you did.  You stood in front of that judge and said whatever cruel things you could to make him think I was a horrible mother.”  Susan glared at her.

     “That was fifteen years ago, Susan!  And everything I said was true.  Kaitlan deserved better than to be raised in a flop house.”

     “She was my kid, not yours.”  Susan reached into her purse and pulled out a prescription vial, opened it, and shook two pills into her hand.  She popped them into her mouth and swallowed.

     Kelly reached over and took the bottle out of her hand.  The name on the label was one she didn’t recognize, and the prescription was for an amphetamine.  “Where did you get these?  You said you weren’t carrying.”

     “I’m not.  These are a friend’s.”  Susan grabbed the bottle back and shoved it into her purse.

     “Get out.”  Kelly pointed at the door.

     “I’m five miles from home!”

     “Get out of my fucking car, Susan.”  Kelly’s voice shook with anger.

     Susan threw the door open and got out.  She leaned back inside with venom in her eyes.  “Thanks for nothing.”  She slammed the door and stalked off across the cemetery.

     Kelly sat there for a minute, shaking.  She and Susan had been so close growing up, even with the six year difference in their ages.  Now it was like they were complete strangers.  Susan only called when she wanted something, and never expressed any sort of gratitude when she got it.  Michelle had complained more than once about how Kelly “coddled” her sister, but Kelly felt that someone had to be there.  Her parents had washed their hands of her years earlier, although their father still occasionally made an attempt at getting her into treatment.  Kelly thought it was more out of a desire to keep up social appearances than any real desire to help.

      Finally, she put the car back into gear and headed toward home.  She couldn’t save Susan any more than Susan could save her.

Chapter V, Scene 1.

I rest my mind from worry and thoughts, and find peace in the stopping.

     “Kelly, would you step into my office?”  John Byrnum sounded stern as he spoke, but when Kelly looked up at him from her desk, he was smiling.  Hoping the trembling of her hands wasn’t showing, she got up and joined him.

     “Yes, Mr. Byrnum?  Is something wrong?”

     Byrnum went to his desk and sat down, indicating the chairs in front of him.  Nervously, Kelly sat.

     “Kelly, you’ve worked for us for what – three years now?”

     “About that, yes, Sir.”  Kelly shifted.  Byrnum was the senior partner at the firm, an older man fast closing on elderly but with a determination that belied his true age.  Kelly had always been a little afraid of him, as his interaction with the clerical staff was usually limited to occasions where problems arose.

     “You have a daughter that’s just gone off to college also, is that correct?”  Byrnum templed his fingers and looked over them at her.

     “Yes.”

     “Do you enjoy your work here?”  He gave her an appraising look.

     “Very much so.”  Oh God, please don’t let him fire me ….  She had been late that morning, but surely one absence and one day late couldn’t be enough to let her go.

     “Your work is always impeccable.  The other partners and paralegals all speak very highly of you.”  Byrnum coughed.  “I suppose I should come to the point.  We would like to offer you a chance for advancement.  It would require that you return to school, but we would be willing to pay for that.”

     Kelly blinked twice, her mind refusing to function momentarily.  Finally, she managed to stammer, “A promotion?  To what?”

     “Ellen has informed us that she will be retiring next year and we would like you to replace her.”  Ellen was one of the paralegals.  “If you accept, she would begin training you in January, and you would also be starting coursework at UNC-G.  It would mean some longer hours than you have been working, but it was my understanding you wanted part time to be home for your daughter, and now that she is at college I hope you will consider expanding your role here.”

     “I … that is … How long do I have to decide?”  Kelly’s brain clicked into gear, whirring faster than she could comprehend.  A promotion.  Full time.  College.  She wondered what Michelle would think of the idea.  She would probably hate it.

     Byrnum’s smile was gentle, almost grandfatherly.  “By the first of December, if you can.  I know this will be a big change for you, but I think you would be an excellent paralegal.”

     “Thank you, Sir.  I’ll … I’ll definitely give it serious consideration.”  Kelly stood and shook his hand before making a hasty escape back to her own desk, where she stared at her computer screen and tried to sort through everything rushing around her head.

     She did love working in the legal field, that much was sure.  But a paralegal was far different from a mere legal secretary, at least at Byrnum and Touche.  As a paralegal, she would be working with clients, doing far more research, actually delving into the law instead of proof-reading what others had done.  But, college?  She had been a mediocre student at best when she attended out of high school.  True, she had earned an honors certificate in her legal secretary course, but full college coursework was much different.

     Still … a paralegal made twice what a secretary did, at least.  And the firm was offering to pay for her schooling.  A sense of independence that she hadn’t realized was missing suddenly bloomed; she could actually contribute more than a pittance to the household if she took the promotion.  She might even have money of her own to spend, instead of asking Michelle if she could hold back a little of her relatively meager check when she wanted to buy new clothes.

     Confusion swirled within her.  She had a month to make a decision, but she knew that it would take that long to convince Michelle that it was a good idea, even if she made up her mind right away to accept.  And what if she failed her courses?  Would they fire her then, leaving her with no work at all?

     Quitting time came thankfully quickly, and Kelly walked to her car lost in thought.  She would have to talk to Michelle about it.  She was afraid to talk to Michelle about it.  She was afraid of failing.  She was afraid of succeeding.  As she turned the key in the ignition, the thought struck her that she was just afraid, period.  She needed a couple of glasses of wine to clear her head.  With a sigh, she backed out and headed for the wine shop.

Chapter IV, Scene 4.

     Kelly stirred when she felt Michelle get out of bed, but wasn't willing to give up her dreams just yet.  Not willing, moreover, to face Michelle after having gotten stumbling drunk the previous night.  A glass of wine with dinner had turned into several, and after Toni and Carol's departure Kelly had been more than amenable to Irish coffee before bed.  If Michelle had harbored romantic thoughts in the offer, they were doomed to remain thoughts as Kelly had found it impossible to stand up after the second cup and had to be helped to bed.

     Groaning against the knowledge that further sleep was impossible, Kelly rolled over and threw an arm over her face.  A headache began to make itself known, further worsening her mood.  Michelle had to be furious.

     “Coffee?”

     Confused by the gentleness in Michelle's voice, Kelly moved her arm and looked up at her partner, who held out a mug from which emanated a pleasant scent of coffee and hazelnut.  Sitting up, Kelly accepted the cup and sighed.

     “I'm so sorry, Michelle ….”

     “For what?”  Michelle sat on the edge of the bed next to her.

     “Last night.  I said I wasn't going to drink any more and I did.”  Kelly bit her lip.

     “Nothing to be sorry for,” Michelle replied with a shrug.  “It was a good evening.”

     Kelly studied her.  “I got drunk.”

     “So?  I wasn't exactly sober.”  Michelle leaned over and kissed her forehead.  “Drink your coffee.  I'll make some breakfast.  Happy anniversary.”

     She was gone before Kelly could think of an appropriate reply, one that would express her disappointment in herself without causing an argument.  The last thing she wanted was to start the day out fighting.  She drank her coffee, dragged herself out of bed, dressed and went to eat.

     It was after lunch before the subject came up again.  They were watching the UNC Tarheels football team doing their best to defeat their rivals at Duke when Michelle turned to her with a serious expression.

     “Why are you so caught up with your drinking lately?”

     Startled, Kelly stared at her for a moment.  “You don't think there's a problem?”

     “No, I don't.  You're so uptight all the time lately.  At least alcohol seems to mellow you out.  What's wrong with that?”  Michelle glanced away.

     “You think I'm uptight?”

     Michelle sighed.  “Most of the time, yeah.  I mean, you've always been kinda … I dunno, tightly wound.  But the last year or so you just seem stressed.  When you have a few, you relax.”

     Trying to take the information in the spirit it seemed to be offered, Kelly responded, “And you don't think I have a problem?”

     “You never miss work, dinner's ready and the house is clean.  You almost never get drunk; at least, not so anyone would notice.  No, I don't see a problem.”

     Kelly leaned against the back of the couch and looked at the ceiling.  “Then why do I feel like there is?”

     “I don't know, Kelly.  All I know is no one else thinks so.”  Michelle's attention went to the TV as the whistle indicated the end of the second quarter.  “Half-time.  I'm going to run to the store; I'm almost out of cigarettes.  Need anything?”

     “No.  Maybe some Chardonnay,” Kelly amended as Michelle reached the door.  “And champagne, for tonight, if you have time.”

     Michelle laughed.  “I know the wine store better than the clerks do.  I'll be right back.”

     Once she was gone, Kelly got up and paced across the room.  No one else may see a problem, and she couldn't think of any real concrete reasons to believe it herself, but something in the back of her mind kept telling her that it was time to take a hard look at herself.  She just wished it wasn't proving so difficult to do.

     There was wine left from the night before, and she poured herself a glass with just the slightest wish that it didn't feel like something she couldn't stop herself from doing.  She didn't have a problem.  Everyone thought so.  As she took a healthy swallow of the Zinfandel, it occurred to her that she might not ought to be listening to 'everyone' instead of her own inner voice.  The thought started to fade with the second swallow, and was gone by the time Michelle returned with two bottles of wine and three of champagne.

     I drink, I get drunk, I fall down.  No problem.

Chapter IV, Scene 3.

     Kelly and Michelle's twentieth anniversary approached, and Kelly found herself wondering, not how she could remain sober, rather, why she had thought it would be so hard to do so.  She had done some minimal research on alcohol addiction and felt some degree of confusion that she had not experienced any of the effects of withdrawal.  There had been no shaking, no sweats, no cravings.  It was as though she had simply decided to stop drinking milk.

     After a week, the longest she had gone without drinking in her adult life, she had begun to think that she couldn't actually be an alcoholic; it was proving too easy to give it up.  As that week stretched toward the weekend, and their anniversary, she had decided that she wasn't.  She had been drinking out of habit, not some addiction.  It was relieving to consider.  The idea of having a disease had been the most unsettling part of the entire process, and to be able to dispense with it was quite the relief.

     They had invited Toni and Carol for dinner on Friday for an early celebration of the anniversary the following day, and as Kelly prepared the meal she found an unexpected joy in the simple act of making food to share with others.  It was an emotion she couldn't recall experiencing very often in the past.

     Michelle gave her a strange look as she refilled her wine glass from the bottle on the counter.  Kelly had glanced at it, sitting so near to where she was stuffing cabbage leaves, but hadn't been tempted to partake.  When Michelle emptied it, she merely took the bottle and put it in the recycling bin, then returned to her work.

     “I guess champagne is out tomorrow?”  Michelle leaned against the counter and watched her cook.

     “Yes, Michelle.  Unless you want some.  I'll have Perrier or something.”  A pinprick of desire raised in the back of her mind as she thought about the sensation of champagne on her tongue, the fizzy, tart-fruit taste that she so loved.  She growled and put the pan of cabbage rolls into the oven.

      “Ok.”  Michelle wandered off.

     Toni and Carol arrived promptly at six, and Toni presented a bottle of expensive red wine to Kelly with a grin and a flourish.

     “Here's a little something to kick off the weekend,” she said, smiling.

     Kelly took the bottle feeling a little helpless.  “Thank you,” she replied weakly.

     “Kelly quit drinking,” Michelle commented, taking the bottle from her hands.

     Toni and Carol looked at Michelle, then at Kelly, then at each other.  There was a silence.  Finally, Toni laughed.

     “Really?  What prompted that, Kelly?”

     Blushing, Kelly responded, “It seemed like the right thing to do.”

     “Well, good for you,” Carol said, touching her arm.  “Can I help with anything in the kitchen?”

     “No, really, everything's done.”

     The awkward moment past, the foursome moved to the living room and began to chat.  Kelly participated as best she could, growing ever more aware of how much everyone seemed to be enjoying their drinks, while her tea was tasting more flat and boring by the moment.

     Wine with dinner wouldn't be so bad.  It's not liking drinking just to drink.

     Kelly pushed the thought away and focused on a joke Toni was telling.  Her laughter was a bit forced, however, and she excused herself to check on dinner.  In the kitchen, she leaned against the counter and stared at the oven, a sense of turmoil descending over her.

     I'm not an alcoholic.  Maybe I just needed a break.

     “Kelly?  Are you ok?”  Carol's voice broke into her thoughts.

     “Hmm?  Oh, yeah, I'm fine.”

     “Are you sure there's nothing I can help with?  The butches are in there talking cars.”

     Kelly smiled, knowing how Toni and Michelle could get when they started discussing their automotive dreams.  “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

     “You've really quit drinking?”  Carol looked at her with clear curiosity.

     “Well … I've taken a break at least.”  Kelly bit her lip.  A break was not what she had started out intending.

     Carol laughed.  “I can't imagine you'd need to quit for good.  If you've got a problem then the rest of us are in real trouble.”

     “I don't think I have a problem.”  Kelly wished she could just stop talking, but the words seemed to be coming independently of her will.  “Maybe I just needed to reprioritize.”

     “I can understand that.  I take time now and then to do the same thing.”

     “I might have been drinking a little too much, but I can get it back under control.”  Kelly almost choked on the statement, but something deep within her core was agreeing readily.  “It was probably just the stress of Kaitlan leaving, all that.”

     Carol studied her for a moment.  “As long as you do what's right for you.”

     “Yeah.”  Kelly managed to smile.  “I might have a glass of wine with dinner.  It is a celebration, after all.”

     “That's the spirit,” Carol replied.  “What's a celebration without wine?”

     It was a question Kelly echoed to herself as she moved to replace her water glass with a wine goblet at the table, wondering why the answer seemed so hollow.

Chapter IV, Scene 2.

     It was almost five before Kelly was able to drag herself off the couch.  She made a bowl of soup, kept it down, and then spent the next hour wandering through the house aimlessly, uncertain of how to face a reality that didn't include alcohol.  She ended up in the office, looking at the bookshelf and thinking how much money she had wasted over the years on books intended to help her find what was wrong in her life, books she had never opened once they came home from the store.

     She selected one at random and returned to the living room where she curled into the overstuffed chair by the fireplace.  Now was the time she would usually be enjoying her after-dinner wine, and instead she spent the rest of the night trying to immerse herself in the book, trying desperately to force the concepts of self-love and inner happiness through the muddle of her brain.  By the time she crawled into bed, she was half-convinced that such things were beyond her understanding.

     Michelle came home two days later.  They had talked on the phone, but Kelly hadn't mentioned her decision to give up drinking for good.  It was something to discuss face to face, she thought.  It came up during dinner, when Michelle looked at the glass of tea at Kelly's place, then at her own wine glass, and then looked at Kelly with a quizzical expression.

     “I've decided it's really time to stop drinking,” Kelly said, wondering why she felt guilty making the statement.

     Michelle blinked a couple of times.  “Ok.”  She went back to her food.

     Kelly stared at the top of her head for a long moment.  “Ok?  That's it?”

     “Well, yeah.  What else do you want me to say?”

     “I don't know … why, congratulations, something?”  Kelly drew her eyebrows together.

     Michelle shrugged.  “It's kind of a 'do I look fat in this dress' comment, Kelly.  I'm really not in the mood for an argument.”

     “Why would there be an argument?”

     “Because when you start talking about your drinking, we always end up arguing about something.”  Michelle poked her green beans with her fork.  “I'm too tired for a fight tonight.”

     “So it doesn't matter to you one way or the other, then?”  Kelly found herself piqued at Michelle's apparent lack of interest in the subject.

     “Not really.  It's your life.  Do what you want.”

     “You aren't even curious as to why?”

     “Kelly, I love you more than life itself.  Whatever you need to do in your life is fine with me.”  Michelle picked up her wine glass.  “And honestly, you've said this before.”

     Kelly felt her face growing red.  “I mean it this time.”

     “Ok.”

     Deciding that it would be best not to continue the discussion, Kelly returned to her meal.  They finished in silence, and spent the rest of the evening in front of the TV, their conversation light and inconsequential.  Kelly was surprised at the awkwardness she felt; it was as if Michelle were a stranger, and she didn't feel she could talk about what was deep within her soul with a stranger.

     Lying in bed later, Kelly stared at the ceiling and listened to Michelle's breathing as she slept.  Part of her wanted to be angry at Michelle's apparent disinterest in her feelings.  Part of her was relieved that she hadn't been forced to explain herself.  She was done with drinking; of that she was certain.  What wasn't so certain was how easy it would be, and if there were difficulties she wasn't at all sure Michelle would be there to support her.

     She fell asleep wondering why that fact didn't bother her more.

Chapter IV, Scene 1.

     “I transcend fear by meeting it willingly and looking for what is deeper than the fear.”

     The phone ringing finally dragged Kelly out of a formless sleep.  Squinting against a headache that threatened to overwhelm her, she fumbled for the receiver, the realization slowly dawning that it was nearly nine-thirty.

     “Kelly?  Where are you?”  Jane Ellison, one of the paralegals at work, sounded concerned.

     I’m going to be sick.  “Jane.  God.  I feel horrible.  I must’ve overslept.”

     “Are you ok?  Are you sick?”

     Kelly managed to find her feet and staggered toward the bathroom, fighting the waves of nausea in her stomach.  “Sick.  Yes.  I don’t think … I shouldn’t come in today.”  She had only called out of work once before, when Kaitlan had appendicitis.

     “Well, feel better.  I’ll let them know.”

     Kelly hoped she had actually hit the off button to break the connection before she fell to her knees and vomited into the toilet.  The taste of sour wine and bourbon caused her insides to cramp again, and she threw up once more.  The pounding in her head came from everywhere, made worse with each heaving of her gut.  Finally, she dropped her head and rested against the edge of the bowl, reaching for the toilet paper to wipe her mouth.

     She didn’t remember going to bed.  She didn’t remember anything after about eight, when Michelle opened a fresh bottle of bourbon and made some joke about Kentucky women and liquor that Kelly couldn’t sort out now.  From the way she felt, she hadn’t stopped drinking then.  For a moment, she wondered if she could just die where she was and be done with it.  Then the nausea started again.

     Fifteen minutes later, Kelly managed to make her way to the kitchen.  The box of wine she had been drinking sat on top of the trash can, and the bourbon by the sink was half empty.

     “Oh, my God,” Kelly murmured as she pulled open the refrigerator, resisting the urge to stick her head inside to cool down.  She pulled out the carton of orange juice and poured a glass with shaky hands before stumbling to the kitchen table and collapsing into a chair.

     It had been years since she’d not been able to remember going to bed, and almost as long since feeling so horrible the morning after.  She had never missed work because of drinking the night before. She didn’t remember Michelle getting up, though she was obviously gone.  The newspaper was neatly folded at her place and an empty coffee cup sat by the sink.

     Kelly sipped her juice and winced as it burned against the rawness of her throat.  Why had she drank so much?  Ghostly memories floated through her mind, apologizing to Michelle for something she didn’t think she needed to apologize for, the sense of purposelessness, the need to drown her pain.  Other snippets of memory danced at the edges of her thoughts; she and Michelle had talked more, but about what?  There hadn’t been any screaming, so perhaps it wasn’t anything to be worried about.  At least, Kelly didn’t remember any screaming.

     After the juice, she managed to make and eat a small bowl of oatmeal before going to shower.  Then, once dressed in sweats and one of Michelle’s t-shirts she lay down on the sofa and wondered how long it would take for the room to stop spinning.  It was better than it had been, but she was still a little dizzy.  She must have napped, because the cable box read 11:55 when the phone rang again.

     “Aunt Kelly?  Are you ok?”  Kaitlan sounded concerned, and tired.

     “I’m fine, why?”

     There was a pause.  “You don’t remember calling me last night?”

     Oh, God.  “Um  ….”

     “I could tell you were pretty twisted.”

     “I’m so sorry, hon.  Was it late?”  The sickness in Kelly’s stomach was no longer from the hangover.

     “Late enough.  I had a hard time understanding you … are things ok between you and Aunt Michelle?  You said something about her leaving.”

     “She’s on a business trip.  I’m … things are ok.  We’re ok.”  

     “Ok, then.  I just wanted to check on you.  Love you.”

     “Love you too, sweetheart.”  Kelly hung up and covered her eyes with her hand.  She had drunk dialed her own daughter.  A moment later, the sickening thought arose that she might have called someone else.  A frantic review of her phone log revealed no unexpected numbers, however, and she blew out her breath with a silent prayer of thanks that no one else would be calling back to check on her.

     Tears began to well up, finally spilling out over her cheeks as the full realization of what she had done sank in.  She had been toying with the idea that her drinking might be problematic for months; the undeniable truth that it was now stared her in the face.  She turned her face into the back of the couch and let the tears flow.  No more.  There could be no more.  At last, she slept.

Chapter III, Scene 3

     Breakfast was taken in complete silence.  Michelle barely looked at Kelly, much less spoke, and when she did look at her, her expression was sullen and argumentative.  Kelly, who had slept more soundly than in months, wasn’t in the mood the broach the previous night’s argument and so let Michelle sulk.  Michelle left for work early, without a kiss, and Kelly sat at the kitchen table contemplating what the fallout from her stand would truly be.

     She and Michelle had never communicated well.  Disagreements were most often settled with silence on Michelle’s part, the two avoiding one another until Kelly gave in and apologized for whatever it seemed she had done wrong.  Those disagreements, however, were almost always minor; on the whole, they got along well.  This argument had a different tenor to it, a palpable sense of unease that transcended their usual spats.

     There had been one other time, almost seven years earlier, when Kelly felt a similar sense of dread about an argument.  Michelle had just received a promotion, and in celebration they had gone to a fancy restaurant where Michelle proceeded to drink far too much.  On the drive home, she had lost control of the car and gone through a fence, ending up on top of some little old man’s bean patch.  Her panicked pleas had caused Kelly to tell the police she had been the one driving, and for some reason everyone believed the story of an errant dog.

       Michelle had been very quiet for a couple of days after that, and Kelly had thought she was feeling guilty, but when she finally asked, Michelle had accused her of being the one to blame for not taking the keys in the first place.  They had fought angrily for a long time, Kelly trying to defend herself and Michelle on the attack about things Kelly hadn’t even known – and didn’t agree with – were wrong.  Michelle had finally stormed out and stayed gone for two days.  During that time, Kelly went crazy with guilt, until finally when Michelle did return she broke down and apologized for everything in a long spewing mass of words that made her feel even worse about herself but seemed to calm Michelle down.

     Thinking back, it had been that incident which seemed to signal an increase in Kelly’s own drinking.  From then on, she had worried less about being the responsible one and more about forgetting her discomfort through wine.  The strange thing was, the more she drank, the better she and Michelle got along.  The realization was jarring; Kelly’s thoughts came back to the present and she considered what she could expect in the afternoon when Michelle returned from work.  It would likely not be good.

     It turned out she was partially correct.  Michelle came home late, merely grunted when asked about dinner, and disappeared into the den where she stayed for the rest of the night.  The silence continued, even when Kelly returned to the bedroom the next evening.  Michelle merely looked at her with a frown, flipped over facing the wall, and went to sleep.  Finally, knowing that Michelle was leaving for Atlanta the following morning, Kelly screwed up her nerve to break the ice.

     “Michelle, we should talk,” she said after another interminable dinner.  She’d had a bottle and a half of wine, and was desperate to put things right between them.

     “Why?  You were pretty clear.”

     Kelly sighed.  “I love you Michelle, I just … I’m not used to being alone with you yet.”

     “Really?  Seemed to me you were more interested in being alone with yourself.”  Michelle leaned back in her chair, a habit Kelly hated, and crossed her arms.  “Is there any reason for me to be here at all?”

     “Not wanting sex one night doesn’t mean I want you to leave,” Kelly replied in exasperation.  “Be reasonable.”

     “Reasonable?  You closed the door in my face.  You wouldn’t even talk to me.  I work my ass off to make this a home, and you don’t seem to appreciate it at all.”

     “That’s not true,” Kelly protested.  “I appreciate everything you do.  But I feel like … like I’ve lost me somewhere along the way.”

     Michelle sat the chair down forcefully.  “I can’t imagine how.  You have plenty of time for you.  It’s not like I complain when the house isn’t clean or dinner isn’t ready when I get home.  You’re the one that wanted to be a wife and mommy; don’t bitch now that you’re not fulfilled.”

     Kelly bit her lip, feeling tears rising.  “I’m not saying that.  Not at all.”

     “Then what are you saying?  Because that’s what it sounds like.”

     “I don’t know.  I don’t know what I’m saying.  I’m not happy with me, that’s all I know.  I’m not happy with how my life is going.  I’m sorry I took it out on you ….” It was a surrender she hadn’t intended, but once the words were out it was too late to take them back.

     Michelle’s smile was tight and triumphant.  “Apology accepted.”

     And that was the end of it.  Michelle got up from the table, poured Kelly the last of the wine, kissed her on the forehead and went off to pack for her trip, leaving Kelly wishing she could rewind the scene and start over, but not knowing how it could have turned out any differently.

     Suddenly, all the frustration and pain welled up into one throbbing, piercing, visceral thing.  Kelly downed her drink and stood.  She took a 24-ounce tumbler from the drain rack and crossed to the fridge.  The box of wine beckoned, promising relief from the emotions wrapping around her thoughts like vines, choking her will to go on.  She drank deeply.  Something had to stop the pain.  She drank again.  She knew no other way.

Chapter III, Scene 2

     “Awww … come on, honey!”  Michelle’s voice was soft near Kelly’s ear as her hands moved toward familiar places.  “It’s early still.”

     Kelly drew in a breath.  “I really don’t feel like it, Michelle.”

     Since her lunch with Carol, Kelly had spent more time than she cared to admit thinking about their discussion.  It was with great discomfort that she’d finally had to admit that she did give in to Michelle too often, on too many things.  Tonight, she really did have a headache and wasn’t in the mood for what Michelle was proposing.  But Michelle was being Michelle, insistent and intense.

     “Hmm … this suggests differently.”

     Kelly cursed inwardly that the nipple Michelle was referring to had responded to her touch.  “I have a headache.  Just go to sleep.”

     “A headache?”  Michelle laughed.  “I can cure that.”  Her fingers moved down Kelly’s body.

     Something inside Kelly snapped.  She pushed away from Michelle and swung her feet out from under the covers.  “I said no, Michelle.”

     Michelle looked at her, her expression inscrutable.  “What’s the problem?”

     “Are you serious?”  Kelly rolled her eyes.  “I don’t feel like it.  I don’t want to.  I said no.”

     “Are you PMSing or something?  ‘Cause I know how to fix that.”

     Kelly exploded.  “Are you fucking nuts?  What part of ‘no’ don’t you get?”

     “Don’t yell at me!”  Michelle reared up on the bed, her eyes sparking.

     “I am so sick and tired of everything being about you, Michelle!  I’ve had it!”

     “What the Hell are you talking about?  Everything I do is for you.”

     Kelly glared at her for a long moment, felt surrender rising within her, and pushed it down as she turned and stalked toward the door.  Michelle said something else, but it was lost in the pounding of blood in Kelly’s ears.  She only knew she had to get out of the room, away from Michelle.

     Michelle followed her to the guest room, but Kelly blocked the doorway.

     “Oh, come on, Kelly.  This is ridiculous.  Come back to bed.”  Michelle’s voice took on a pleading tone that served only to make Kelly angrier.

     “No.  You go to bed.”

     “What’s going on?  I don’t understand.”

     For just a moment, Kelly wanted to relent, but then she looked into Michelle’s eyes and saw what was there; Michelle was saying whatever she thought would get Kelly to give in.

     “Good night, Michelle.”  She closed the door, leaving her partner in the hallway.

     “You’re a real bitch, you know that, Kelly?”  There was a bang as something, probably Michelle’s hand, slammed against the door. 

     Startled, and more than a little afraid, Kelly turned the lock.  After a couple more bangs, she heard Michelle curse and a few moments later another door slammed.  Finally, silence fell.  Kelly paced to the single bed and sank down, trembling.  Michelle had never before acted the way she just had.  True, they both had been drinking heavily that night, but as hard as Kelly searched her memory, she couldn’t recall a time that Michelle had hit anything, living or not.

     Still, underneath the fear was a strange, new feeling.  She had stood up for herself, and it felt good.  Maybe Carol had been right after all; maybe she did need to claim some personal space in their relationship.  The adrenalin began to wear off, and she yawned.  Time would tell, but for the moment a good night’s sleep beckoned and she was eager to enjoy it.