mean? You fixed me the cure last time,” Tucker said.
She poked him in the chest with her free hand. “It’s called tough love. If you want to wallow around in the past, get drunk and pass out on the floor, and make me fall when I come home, that’s your business. But I’m not your nurse or your mama.”
“But you’re my partner,” he protested as he poured a cup of coffee.
“That’s right, and right now your partner is talking to Dotty. When I get done, I’m going to turn on some music and start laundry. Then I’m going to vacuum my room. Lots of noise fixin’ to happen. You might want to start that cure.”
Dotty’s laughter echoed across the room before Jolene even got the phone back to her ear. “I guess you’re not going to be an enabler again, are you?”
“Nope. If he can’t stay sober enough to help his partner out so she doesn’t walk the equivalent of two city blocks in sleet and freezing rain, then his partner isn’t going to mollycoddle him because of a hangover.”
“And we all thought he was getting better,” Dotty sighed.
“Drunks are professionals at fooling people,” Jolene said.
“Looks like you got your hands full. Call me later today and don’t back down,” Dotty said.
“Will do. I’ve been through enough of this to last a lifetime. You stay warm now.” Jolene ended the call and poured herself a second cup of coffee. She carried it to the table and sat down to finish the last few bites of her breakfast.
“You are evil,” Tucker groaned. “So I fell off the wagon. I had a good reason.”
“No, you had an excuse. It’s pretty plain that you like this misery that you put yourself through, so you’re not getting a bit of sympathy from me,” she told him. “You know my past, but if you want to talk about reasons why I feel this way, we can go over it again. And just so you know, my truck is out at the end of the lane. I had to walk in freezing rain and sleet all the way to the inn at three o’clock in the morning, only to fall over your drunk ass when I tried to turn on the light. I’m plumb fresh out of sympathy, so make your own eggs and toast.”
“That was real? I thought I was dreaming,” he muttered. “You wrecked your truck? Why?”
“Look outside.” She carried her dirty dishes to the sink, rinsed them, and put them in the dishwasher.
He shielded his eyes and glanced out the window. “Good God! You drove home in that? Why didn’t you call me?”
“I did. You were passed out. And now I’ve got things to do.” She left the room with Sassy right behind her. “Your cat doesn’t even like you this morning.”
She heard him swearing and got a whiff of burned eggs. Then there was a scraping noise as he trashed those and started all over. She hadn’t felt such a surge of anger in years, not since her mother had passed. If only she could hit something—anything that would make noise. There was nothing but a small plastic trash can in the corner. With one well-placed kick, it went flying across the room and bounced off the wall, sending wadded-up balls of paper scooting across the floor. Sassy flew off the bed and attacked them as if they were mice, batting them under the bed and from one end of the room to the other.
Even that didn’t put a smile on Jolene’s face. She hoped that he would move his ratty old trailer back to Marshall when they got finished remodeling. She’d gladly mail him his half of the profits if he just left.
She couldn’t stay in her room all day. She had things to do, so she took a long, deep breath and headed toward the laundry room. That day, they wouldn’t wash their clothes together. She’d separate them and do only her things. He could damn well do his own.
When she went back through the kitchen, he reached out to touch her arm.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you last night,” he said.
“Prove it,” she said.
“What does that mean? You knew that yesterday was a tough day for me. It was Melanie’s birthday,” he said.
“And it’s her birthday the same day every year. Just like it was every year before she died. Are you going to get drunk every time? If so, I’ll mark it on the calendar so we