The car keys were handed back to Laura. She would never drink and drive again, she said.
Laura was sincerely pleased to be mobile again. After standing at bus stops, after walking to the hospital. We did not know then, what we know now – what she had missed the most? Her illicit trips to Mr Big I Am.
My daughter’s like a butterfly, she has them tattooed on her back, she flits about a lot. She is restless on the spot.
Laura only grocery shopped for the day. She did not stock her cupboards.
Her sister bumped into Laura down a supermarket aisle, and noticed Laura’s basket: how quickly Laura covered three bottles of wine with a magazine.
I told Husband about the shopping for three. ‘Lots of people drink wine in the evening,’ he replied.
‘But three bottles?’
‘They’ll go in that wine rack.’
‘No.’ I wasn’t having that. ‘She never shops for tomorrow, three bottles are for one night. I think she’s developing a drinking habit. I’m concerned about that.’
He deep sighed.
You see, externally our daughter was managing her life. She went to work, visited us, and went out with friends. I should accept she liked a tipple, and not worry about that.
But I did.