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.
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.
great start. I'm trying to do the nanowrite this year too. You're way ahead of me. Happy writing.
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