The carnival was good, grandson was cute – I did not stay for revelries in the park. I came home. I could not clear the uneasy thoughts jangling in my mind. Was Bella drinking again?
Did we have a problem? Was she drinking alcohol so soon out of recovery? Or was I overreacting – which I was prone to.
Husband and I nipped out in the afternoon, together. I told him of my fears.
‘If she’s drinking, she’s drinking, there’s not a lot you can do,’ he said.
We pulled up the drive, home. Bella sat at the front door, waited for us to return. She stood, on our approach.
‘Hi, are you feeling better?’ I asked.
‘Yes, much better, I don’t know what was wrong with me this morning.’ We entered my house. ‘How was the carnival, did you take pictures? Can I see them?’
‘Do you want coffee?’ I asked, filling the kettle.
No, I’ll get going.’ And off she went.
I looked at husband, ‘what was that about?’
‘Arriving just to go.’
Her face looked tired, makeup covered her eyes. ‘I know why she came,’ I said, ‘to see how the land lies, after this morning.’
Again he shrugged.
A year or so after this day, married daughter was told – Bella invited serious drinkers, to her house, the night before the carnival, to join in her ‘fun’. Apparently, she was drinking vodka straight from the bottle, saying, ‘look at me. I’ve only been out of rehab for two weeks.’