Check came today. I was canning in the kitchen when my husband came home with a bottle of rye whiskey. Didn’t say hello, just took a mason jar off the counter and poured himself a drink— left me with a cups worth of pickled green tomatoes. The baby heard the door slam and started to fuss so he went out back to listen to the radio. I poured myself a drink into one of Samantha’s baby food jars, I picked one with the label still on so he wouldn’t see. With him drinking he won’t smell it on me either. Sometimes I don’t mind these days.
The baby kept on fussing so I went into her room. Her binky had fallen out of her mouth with her face all red from crying. She’ll have an ugly cry when she’s a woman. I picked up the binky and wiped it off and dipped it in my whiskey. With some encouragement, she took it and I picked her up and sat in the rocking chair with her. We sat and rocked as she calmed down. I sipped my drink, trying not to think about my loose belly and how my church dress would never fit again. Samantha started to nod off again, but I nudged her off my shoulder and took her pacifier out for another drop of whiskey. It was nice to have some company for once.
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