Part 69

When Charlotte got home with the girls the house was dark and quiet. She was sure her parents were in bed asleep, but where was Sam? His car was in the garage. Drunk? Not wanting the girls to see him, she sent them straight up to bed. Calling, "Don't forget to brush your teeth," as they rounded the bend in the stairs. "We will," cascaded back.

The girls heading for bed, Charlotte looked for her husband. She looked in the den first. Nothing. His office. Nope. The dining room; no, but under the door to the kitchen, there was a faint light.
Slowly she crossed the room, took a deep breath, and then pushed the door wide.

There he was sitting at the table. In front of him was a half a bottle of scotch and an clean empty glass. His elbows were resting on the table, and his head was buried in his hands. Charlotte walked over and stood behind him. "Are you okay?'

Without lifting his head, he nodded it up and down.

"Have you been drinking?"

He gave a silent nod, and then looked up at his wife. "I've been sitting here for three hours. Taking it a second at a time."

"Why?"

"I couldn't move." Sam lifted his head and gripped Charlotte's hands, "I couldn't leave the sight of it."

"Why don't you come with me?"

Slowly Sam lifted himself out of his chair. His knees so used to being seated, his first few steps were a bit stiff legged. "What about the bottle?"

Charlotte kissed his cheek. "I'll take care of it."

Both knew when his back was turned she'd get rid of it. Pouring the contents down the drain and putting the rinsed out bottle in the recycling bin.

"Thank you."

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