“You say that now.” Sheryl put a hand on Kristin’s knee and squeezed softly.
“I mean it.” Kristin leaned in, ready to kiss Sheryl on the cheek.
Sheryl pulled away and said, “I just don’t see myself as an addict. I don’t see myself counting days without booze and collecting a chip after reciting the serenity prayer. I don’t even pray.”
“Then we’ll find you a therapist who specializes in…” Why was it still so hard to say those words out loud? “Substance abuse.”
Sheryl heaved a big sigh. “One last drink?” Her eyes lit up. “Or one last blowout with our friends tomorrow at the dinner party?”
Kristin shook her head. “Why waste the two sober days you’ve already had?”
“Because…” Sheryl leaned away farther from Kristin. “I want to.”
“Let’s just try.” Kristin didn’t let up; she couldn’t afford to. “I’ll let everyone know no wine will be served and they shouldn’t bring any either.”
“That’s like sharing it with all of them. I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
“They’re our friends. They know you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? They know I’m a drunk?”
“They know you’re prone to having one too many. It’s just one dinner. They will support you.”
“I’m not sure about this.” Sheryl’s entire posture deflated.
“I understand.” Kristin shuffled closer still, trying to bridge the gap Sheryl had been putting between them. “But it will be so much easier for you to resist a drink if nobody else is having one. Why make it harder for yourself than it has to be?”
“Because, aside from asking my friends to spend a perfectly good Saturday night abstaining, I will, by doing so, also be admitting to my own weakness. That’s hard.”
“But isn’t that what friends are for? To be there for you in hard times?”
Sheryl still had a reluctant furrow in her brow. “And Amber, the only person who would happily not drink, won’t even be there.”
Kristin pictured Amber meditating on a mountain with a staggering view wherever in India she was. They could do with someone like Amber right about now. Someone who only drank for show, and wasn’t afraid to lay out all the reasons, over and over again, why alcohol was bad for you. But, even more so, someone who had all the tools necessary to help Sheryl find the peace of mind she’d so sorely been lacking for years.
“I know I haven’t always made the best decisions for our life and our relationship, but I have learned from my mistakes.” Kristin hadn’t meant to sound so formal. “I’m asking you to trust me. I will arrange everything for tomorrow; we won’t even have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“No.” Sheryl’s voice rang firm. “I don’t want that kind of tension and I believe in the power of transparent communication. If we’re doing this, then it’s all going to be out in the open.”
“Okay.” Kristin nodded, finally pecked Sheryl on the cheek, while a little sliver of hope crept up her spine.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Even before any guests had arrived, Sheryl wanted nothing more than to open a bottle of wine. It had always been such an act of anticipation: letting a bottle of excellent wine breathe so it would be perfect and ready for when their friends arrived.
But there was no more wine to be found in their apartment. With cheeks turning a telltale pink, Sheryl had surrendered one half-empty and one full bottle of vodka she’d stashed away in her desk drawer, and had watched Kristin drain them into the sink.
Kristin had sent Sheryl to the farmer’s market to pick up vegetables for tonight, and when Sheryl had returned, the smell of wine was unmistakable in the flat, leading Sheryl to believe that Kristin had poured away the not-so-good bottles in the sink as well. Sheryl had no idea what she had done with the expensive ones, and she hadn’t asked.
Sheryl had inhaled deeply while depositing her shopping bag on the kitchen counter, but Kristin hadn’t given her a chance to say anything. Instead she had pressed her lips hard against Sheryl’s. When Sheryl had let her hands run down Kristin’s sides, then underneath her top, Kristin had swatted them away, telling her not to distract the chef too much.
Since The Pink Bean had found its groove and Kristin’s presence downstairs was less and less required, she had made the kitchen her domain. Because she was a woman who succeeded at most things she put her mind to, she had soon started turning out stunning dishes and dinner parties had become more frequent.