a lemon tree whose scent filled the room when she opened the kitchen window. She'd decorated as she pleased. No landlord's restrictions. She had sponge painted the dining room to resemble a Tuscan villa, papered the kitchen walls in a blue and sunny yellow Provincial print, and hung family photos in the hallway without fear of having to patch the holes or forfeit a deposit. She'd set down roots - not just for herself, but for her family. Justin had one more year of high school. It would be the worst possible time for him to change schools.
She was elbows deep in soapsuds, scrubbing the roasting pan, when the doorbell rang. "Can you get that?" she called. When the bell rang a second time, she peeled off her rubber gloves and marched indignantly past the den where Wes sat staring at a game show. Wes never watched game shows. Exasperated she opened the front door to find herself face to face with a young couple straight out of a toothpaste ad - blonde, tan and enviably fit looking.
"Hi, I'm Hap," the bronze god said with a broad grin. "And this is my wife, Robin." Laurel could see why Wes had promoted him to sales manager. He exuded boyish confidence. His wife looked like a cheerleader, slim and perky, her hair pulled back in a pony tail, a few wisps framing her heart-shaped face.
Robin looked past Laurel at the empty living room. "Oh-oh. Do we have the wrong night?"
"No," said Laurel, collecting herself. "I tried to reach you. We had to cancel the dinner." The couple stood there awkwardly. They had obviously dressed up for a party. She couldn't just shut the door on them. "Come in," she said. "At least, let me offer you a glass of wine."
She led them to the living room and went to get Wes. The den was permeated with eau de bourbon. "Tell them to leave," Wes grunted. When he refused to get up, she conceded defeat and went into the kitchen to cobble something together.
When Laurel returned to the living room, Robin and Hap were sitting side by side on the sofa, holding hands. She set down the tray bearing wine, glasses, and the rescued cheese cubes.
Robin held up a hand. "I'm not drinking."
Hap patted her stomach. "We're expecting."
Robin blushed and pushed his hand away.
Laurel didn't see any sign of a bulge. "When are you due?"
"Not till the end of May,” Robin said. "After school's out."
"Are you going to the University?"
Hap laughed. "She teaches at Norton High."
Laurel blushed, embarrassed by her misjudgment. "You look so young." She put her hand to her mouth. "I hope you're not offended. I mean it as a compliment."
Robin smiled. "I took it that way."
"Our son, Justin, is a junior at Norton."
"He wouldn't know me unless he takes home economics," Robin said.
"Or hangs around to watch the girls," Hap added.
She gave him a stop-it nudge. "I coach girls' track," she explained.
"Where's Wes?" Hap asked.
"He's not feeling well," Laurel said. That was an understatement.
As if to prove her right, Wes appeared in the doorway, swaying, in his undershirt and slacks. "You still here?" he slurred. He squinted at the startled trio with red-rimmed eyes. "You didn't get the word?" Laurel wished he'd go back into his cave.
Hap looked puzzled.
"We've been terminated. Fired."
Hap looked uncomprehending for a moment; then his grin melted away. "But I've nearly doubled the sales in my territory."
"I didn't say 'you'. I said 'we.' The whole damn sales team."
Hap shook his head."That doesn't make sense."
Wes leaned against the door jamb. "Whole fucking department's down the tubes."
Robin's face had turned white. "We just bought our house."
Hap wrapped a protective arm around her. "Don't worry, honey."
"The company will probably call in the loan they gave you," Wes growled.
"Wes," Laurel warned. This was not the time for more bad news.
"Sorry, pal," Wes said as he staggered back to the den.
Laurel was afraid Robin would faint. "I'm sure Hap will find a job," she said to reassure her, although she had no idea if this were true.
"I’m not worried, Hon," he said.
Robin got up shakily. "I don't feel well. We'd better go. "
Laurel walked Robin and Hap to the door. "Don't mind Wes. This has been a shock to him."
Laurel closed the door behind them and leaned against it. Tonight was bad enough; tomorrow would be worse. Wes was a bear when he had a hangover, and he'd have a doozy. She found Wes in the den, staring glassy-eyed at the television screen. She turned off the set. "Go to bed," she said. "Things will look better in the morning."
"Yeah, and Jesus is coming back, too."
Laurel recoiled from his hot whiskey breath as she walked Wes down the hall, his arm draped over her shoulders. In their bedroom, she twisted him off her shoulder and onto the bed. She unbuckled his belt, grabbed the cuffs of his pants and pulled them off. Once he was tucked in, none too gently, she went to the den and found the bottle on the floor by his chair. It was less than half full.
She was about to pour the rest of the bourbon down the kitchen sink when she reassessed the situation. With the holidays just two months away, she could use it for Bourbon Balls and her famous fruitcake. But she had to hide the bottle from Wes. She was looking for the right spot when Justin popped in the front door. The duffel slung over his shoulder reeked of dirty gym clothes. Judging by his smile, Norton High must have won the Homecoming game. He dropped his duffel on the floor and gave Laurel a peck on the cheek. "Hi, Mom. Party over already?" He opened the refrigerator door and stood back. "Whoa. What's with all this food?"
Laurel tried to sound matter-of-fact, as if this happened all the time. "Dinner was cancelled."
"Why?"
She kissed his forehead, brushing his lock of auburn hair aside. "Dad didn't feel well. Nothing for you to worry about."
Justin frowned. "Is he sick?"
She shook her head. "Just tired."
He narrowed his eyes."What's that in your hand?"
Laurel realized she was holding the half-empty liquor bottle. "He had a hard day."
"Shit, not again. It's his job, isn't it?"
Laurel patted his cheek. "I told you not to worry. And watch your language, young man."
"Sorry."
"Besides, things always look better in the morning."
"You always say that."
"That’s
