It’s okay, she told herself. She can’t be glad I’m here. What woman would be?
Why’d you sleep with Skip? The disgust in Ted’s words chafed even in retrospect. He couldn’t be glad she was here, either.
The wine cellar and the bottles of liquor he stored there came to mind. Alexa was in her own bed; they were in a safe place. Surely, she could have a drink now. She’d been so immersed in her troubles that she’d scarcely thought about booze for days. But the memory of the smooth burn of whiskey as it went down and the rush of euphoria that came after suddenly grabbed hold of her and nearly dragged her to the door.
One drink. She was alone, didn’t need to drive, didn’t need to answer to Skip, didn’t need to do anything for her daughter.
It couldn’t hurt to have a drink occasionally. Lots of people did that and it caused them no problems.
She got up and started down the stairs. She could cross the backyard, slip into the kitchen and sneak out a bottle in a matter of minutes. Ted and Eve would never be the wiser. She’d pay for it out of her first paycheck. She wasn’t a thief like her husband had been.
But the memory of Skip’s words brought her to a halt before she could even get out of the guesthouse. You’re nothing but a lazy drunk.
“No, Skip, I’m a lot more than that,” she whispered.
Talk was cheap, however. She had to prove it.
Even though her mouth was dry and her head ached—for some odd reason she felt as though she was going through withdrawal all over again—she went back to bed and forced herself to lie there.
She’d been so exhausted just minutes before. But the alcohol in Ted’s cellar seemed to be calling out to her: I’m right here. Come and get me!
Why wouldn’t the temptation release her so she could sleep?
You can do it. Stay put. You’re building a new life, brick by brick. Having a drink will only set you back.
She needed to join AA, she decided. Skip wouldn’t have allowed it if he were alive. He would’ve been too afraid someone would find out—or recognize her at the meeting. She certainly didn’t need to give the people of Whiskey Creek any more reason to malign her. But wasn’t what she turned out to be more important than what she used to be?
22
Sophia must’ve slept because the next time she was conscious of being awake it was three hours later—nearly midnight. She had to go to the bathroom so she peered out her window as she passed by and noticed that the lights were off at the main house. Eve had either gone home. Or she was staying over.
The thought of her staying over made Sophia crave a drink again. Somehow, for the past week or so, she’d been able to push her addiction into the background. But now that her other problems had receded just a little, her love affair with alcohol was shoving its way to the forefront.
Couldn’t she have a single night of peace?
When she returned to bed, she tried to fall back asleep, but she kept imagining Ted with Eve.
“Whatever fulfills him,” she murmured. He was with the right person; Eve had so much more to offer him. She wasn’t down-and-out. She didn’t have a drinking problem. And she’d never hurt him in the past, so they had nothing to overcome. Sophia didn’t want to be like a drowning person flailing around, dragging under everyone who was trying to help.
That image brought home the reality of her situation. But it didn’t bring the oblivion she desperately needed. She kept tossing and turning, wrestling with her envy.
At last, she got up, put on her swimsuit, grabbed a towel and went out to the Jacuzzi. She thought the hot water might help her relax.
It was doing just that—until she heard a door open and close and two sets of footsteps cross the deck. She tensed. With the lights off, she’d assumed Ted and Eve were in for the night!
What was she going to do? She didn’t want them to catch her in the hot tub. She doubted Ted would care if she used it, but it would be horribly awkward to interrupt his private time with Eve.
Because he and Eve were talking, she hoped they couldn’t hear the splash of the water as she scrambled out. Fortunately, she hadn’t turned on the jets for fear they’d make too much noise. But there was no way she could get the cover on or creep back to the guesthouse without being seen, not beneath a full moon.
So she picked up her towel and darted under the deck instead, thinking she’d slip around the perimeter of the yard when she had the chance. She didn’t dare move quite yet, afraid she’d draw their attention.
“I still can’t believe your mother invited me to lunch.” Eve sounded pleased, and Sophia could understand why. She’d probably pass out from shock if Mrs. Dixon ever extended such a friendly invitation to her.
“Why?” Ted asked. “My mother’s always liked you.”
“You’ve told me that before. But it can be hard to tell.”
A bitter smile tugged at Sophia’s lips when she heard the wry note in Eve’s voice. She could’ve told Eve what it was like when Mrs. Dixon didn’t like you.
“She’s...selective about the people she accepts into her life,” Ted said. “But she has a positive impression of you from elementary school. So you had that going for you from the start.”
“She sure knew how to police the yard at lunch. I was terrified of her—like most other kids,” Eve said. But Sophia hadn’t been afraid of Mrs. Dixon back then. She hadn’t been afraid of anyone. She’d been sitting on top of the world.
Too bad she’d had to learn just how fast one could fall from such a lofty perch.
“My mom comes off as stern, but—” Ted stopped talking when they reached the hot tub—obviously he was reacting to finding the cover off. He glanced around as if he expected to see her or someone else, but she shrank farther into the shadows and behind one of the support beams, and his gaze passed over her without stopping. Since the guesthouse was dark, he probably thought she’d used the Jacuzzi earlier and forgotten to be polite about it.
She didn’t like the idea of him thinking she was careless enough with his belongings to do that—letting the heat escape when it was so expensive to keep the water hot. But he didn’t make a big deal about the cover to Eve. He didn’t even mention it, and she didn’t seem to notice. They just got in.
“She certainly wasn’t too pleased to hear about Sophia living here.” Eve’s voice was barely audible above the gurgle of the jets. She was no doubt being careful so that her voice wouldn’t travel to the guesthouse. Ted was careful, too, when he responded. But that didn’t make as much of a difference as they thought—not when she was standing a mere ten feet away.