I do not want to write tonight. I don’t. I don’t. So I might only write a little…. until I can process it. One thing I do really want to say is this: Elly, you were beautiful. By that time of the evening, I truly appreciated what you said. Not to mention that you emerged from your cocoon of early early teens to be extroverted and comedic and smart arse and strong.
Your uncle offered me a beer in the afternoon. I accepted, questioning if it was okay. He said he was having one. So I had one too. Then I went to bed and slept off the previous night for a couple of hours. We stopped at the supermarket for goodies for the evening…. I got some beers for your uncle and I had a taste of a couple of ciders at the tasting station. I did check if I knew anyone from Facebook first. And I bought the cider, even though I wasn’t that impressed. It was peach. I pretended it tasted great. It was just alright. It wasn’t peach schnapps on icecream, that’s for sure. But I said I’d take a bottle. I also got a rose, based on the price and the label. I’m a sucker for the way the label looks. I felt uncomfortable at Grandma’s. We were the first there. I’d brought in a couple of beers for your uncle and left the wine and cider in the car. He offered me a beer. I said no. I said I wanted a drink. I felt so edgy. I wasn’t sure how I’d cope with the others being convinced I wasnt drinking.
‘I don’t know what to do,’ I said. ‘It’s a problem.’
‘It is,’ he agreed.
‘I’ll just go get it,’ I said. And out to the car boot I went.
I poured a cider because I figured that would not initially look like alcohol. Not in a wine glass etc. And I made a fairly big deal of making sure mum and dad had a wine even though they were busy in the kitchen. And then they turned up. Making a big fuss about how the sister in law had challenged them to not drink for a month and how there were only a few days left but they didn’t bring any wine.
‘But what about the whiskey and the port and the rum?’ Grandma asked.
‘Ooh, say that again, say it again…’ my sister in law purred. My brothercame directly over to me.
‘How are you going? Are you still doing the challenge? Have you had a drink?’
‘Yes,’ I blurted.
‘What?’ He wasn’t impressed. ‘But it was a challenge!’
‘Not a challenge,’ I said. ‘An experiment.’
Still unimpressed. And then he told his wife. Oh crap. A few more words about being the person who had initiated this challenge (it’s not a challenge, it’s an experiment, alright?) and being the leader of it….. and shortly after she came along with one of grandma and grand dad’s microscopic wine glasses with rose in it. Hah. I. Felt. Like. Shit.
‘Are you drinking?’ She was smiling right back at me, holding her glass toward me. She nodded, holding eye contact.
‘Oh, don’t!’ I said. And I meant it, I really did.
‘Oh don’t you pretend to be concerned,’ she said. ‘You were smiling…. you were…’
and she went off to break her drought of wine. I felt dreadful. My brother was drinking too. Girls, I’m so sorry. I felt like I had made him drink. Honestly. That’s all I want to say tonight.