Read Online High Spirits [Spirits 03] by Alice Duncan - Free Book Online Page A

returned home from an evening of jollity and fun.
           All three men looked at me as if I was crazy. Fine. I’d just leave them alone, then. “I’m bushed, Billy.” I went over and gave him a peck on the cheek. “You going to stay up long?” It was difficult to know exactly how Billy should be treated. I didn’t want to nag, but I also knew that he needed his rest. So did Pa, with his weak heart.
           Without answering, Billy quirked an eyebrow at Sam. “Want to join us in a couple of games, Sam?”
           Sam eyed the table with longing. I’ve never understood how people can sit and play cards for hours at a time. I’d be bored silly. “Well ... I’ve got to work tomorrow ... Oh, what the heck.” He headed to the hall closetwhere he knew we stored the card table and folding chairs because he and Billy and Pa played cards all the time.
           That answered my question, so I left the men and Spike to their game, went to our bedroom, changed into my nightgown, and fell into bed, totally exhausted. That night I slept like the dead. Maybe I was only wishing.
           The following morning, dawn broke much sooner than I thought it should, and I awoke before Billy. I did what I always did on mornings when my husband couldn’t catch me at it: checked the level of morphine syrup in the bottle he kept in our birds-eye maple dresser across the room from our bed.
           My heart always hurt when I saw how much of the medicine he’d had to drink the day before—and I wasn’t even sure that was his only bottle. I suspected him of stashing that one bottle in the dresser because he knew I checked up on him. I had a feeling he took even more morphine than I was aware of and that he hid his other bottles because he didn’t want me to worry about him. As if I’d ever not worry about him.
           The bottle was half-empty. It had been full the day before. I sighed and put it back, wondering why I bothered. Dr. Benjamin was right about addiction being better than pain. I told myself so over and over and over again, and I worried anyhow.
           After tiptoeing back to the bed and kissing Billy’s ruffled hair—he had beautiful hair; it was the one thing that hadn’t changed since the war—I put on my robe and slippers and shuffled out to the kitchen, which connected to our bedroom.
           Ma and Aunt Vi were eating breakfast and chatting softly. It always touched me that they took such pains not to awaken Billy and me in the morning. Both women smiled when I joined them, and Aunt Vi said softly, “I made waffles, Daisy.”
           God bless my aunt. My mouth started watering instantly. “Thanks, Vi.”
           “There’s bacon, too,” said Ma.
           Better and better. “Yum.” Glancing around in search of the missing members of the family, I said, “Where are Pa and Spike?”
           “Joe took the dog for a walk,” said Ma, smiling. “He said Spike is getting fat and needs the exercise.”
           “Ha. Pa should talk.”
           “It’s good for the both of them.” With a sigh, Ma stood, picked up the hat she’d laid aside, and put it on, stabbing a pin in it haphazardly. “The auditors are going to be at the hotel today. I’m not looking forward to it.”
           “Bank auditors?”
           “Yes. They audit the accounts every year about this time. I’m not worried, but they take so much of my time. They don’t usually come on a Saturday. I’m afraid I may be late coming home from work today.
           Ma was head bookkeeper at the Hotel Marengo. It was a responsible position for a woman in 1921—or any other time, for that matter—and I was proud of her. She normally worked half-days on Saturdays, and I hoped she wouldn’t have to work much longer than that. She deserved her time off.
           Pa had worked as a chauffeur for rich movie people until his first heart attack