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.
No comments:
Post a Comment