After hearing Janet Devlin's song 'Whisky Lullabies', which I highly suggest you all look up on youtube, I got inspired to write this little one shot.
Whisky Lullabies
All I hear is, Whisky Lullabies
There to cradle me to sleep
All I hear is, Whisky Lullabies
There to cradle me to sleep
Scars they heal in time
The raw wounds on my mind
They aren't as easily fixed
You can't mend what isn't broken
Kind words are rarely spoken
In time I will learn this
Sharon had always loved weddings, since the age of five when she had been a flowergirl for her uncle's wedding. Adorn in a dress of white satin, pastel sweetpeas braided through her hair and sparkly silver 'cinderella' shoes on her feet.
The next time she wore white to a wedding, her father was walking her up the aisle of that same church. She had been blinded by love and lust, her vision clouded by emotions that had overpowered her being. She had been blinded to the truth that had been staring straight into her eyes. Regardless of how her marriage had ended, it had been a magical day. The sort that every little girl dreamed of when they stood in front of their mother's wedding dress, and imagined themselves wearing such a gown.
Two decades later, her father would admit that it had been the biggest mistake of his life.
Her marriage was not the fairytale that her wedding had been, of horse drawn carriages and being carried over the threshold, it had all come to an abrupt stop almost as soon as she became pregnant with Emily. Before her very eyes, her husband had changed. He was no longer the charming young man, with a devious smile that made her go weak at the knees. That man had been replaced by one who constantly smelt of whiskey and cheap perfume, whose pockets were filled with poker chips and who showed little to no regard for his pregnant wife.
When she had given birth to Emily, she had done so alone in a hospital room with only a midwife to help her through the agony. It was an hour later, when she cradling her firstborn in her arms and drying up her tears, that she came to the realisation that her husband was god only knows where, doing what with god only knows who, and that he found that more important than the birth of his first child.
It took three days for him to sober up and come up. She found him hovering over Emily's cradle, his shoulders shaking as he took in the sight of his child for the first time. "She's perfect, Shar" He whispered, reaching inside to lift the small bundle from her humble abode and into his arms, rocking her softly as the tears began to fill his eyes. In that moment, Sharon had came to the decision that no matter what, she would do whatever it would take to keep her little family together.
For a few months, Jack was a doting father to Emily. That was until he was offered a promotion at work, and he took his bonus with him for a four day weekend in Vegas. That was the first time Sharon had been woke in the middle of the night by her husband, asking her to come and pick him up from the hospital. When he got into the car, his breath had stuck of whiskey as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear, while ignoring the sleeping toddler in the back who had been dragged from her bed to collect her drunken father from the hospital.
From then, her husband's life revolved around three things - gambling, whisky and women.
Sharon would be forced to endure another dozen late night, or early morning, visits to the hospital to collect her husband before Ricky was born. Each time, he would whisper his apology and collapse on the sofa while Sharon would lock herself away in their bedroom and cry herself to sleep.
On the night she went into labour with Ricky, she had rung every bar that Jack frequently visited to no avail, before leaving Emily with the family next door and driving herself to the hospital. It took Jack a week to come home and see his son. He cradled his son in his arms and sung him a whisky lullaby; it was the only time her husband would ever cradle their son to sleep.
The next five years were filled with constant trips to bars, hotels and hospitals to retrieve her husband. It got to the extent that an eight year old Emily had made her feelings known to her grandmother during a visit to Sharon's hometown during spring break, for which Jack had been forced to stay in L.A. for 'work reasons'. "I wish daddy would just stay at home with us, instead of staying with his friends all night. Does he like them better than us?" Emily's words had shattered Sharon's heart into a thousand pieces, and forced her grandmother to take her mother aside to discover the true extent of Jack's problems.
Two months later, when her husband failed to show up, or even remember Emily's ninth birthday, Sharon had decided that her children had been forced to endure enough. The separation papers were written up and signed the next day, written in such a manner that would ensure she kept sole custody of both Emily and Ricky, before she had them delivered to Jack's office.
When she got home that evening, the babysitter informed her that Jack had came home earlier that evening and packed up his things, leaving the signed papers on the kitchen counter. It would be eight months before she would see her husband again.
She was dragged out of her thoughts when a whisper reached her ears, "Penny for your thoughts?" Andy asked, his right arm wrapped around her shoulder, keeping her close to his side, while his left hand had interlocked his fingers through hers, their joint hands resting on her lap. "I'm just thinking of…" Sharon began, before stopping herself. Today was meant to be a day of happiness and joy, when Provenza's sixth wedding would hopefully be his last. Today was not day for getting trapped up in the past. Andy squeezed her hand before pressing a kiss against her forehead, "That was another lifetime ago" He reminded her in a gentle whisper, as though having read her thoughts. Her lips pulled up into a smile as he brushed the tears away and stroked her hand.
Their attention was turned back to bride and groom as they exchanged their wedding vows before the Mayor proclaimed them 'man and wife' and the room erupted in applause. Champagne glasses were handed around the small gathering, as Buzz continue to pester them all with his camera, catching candid pictures of the team that had become like a family to each other.
"Could you ever see yourself doing it again?" Patrice asked as she arrived at Sharon's side, handing her small bouquet of flowers to the woman as she retrieved another glass of champagne from the table in front of them.
"What, marriage?" Sharon questioned, caught off guard by the woman's question. Her eyes trailed across the room to where Andy was standing at the door, her glass of champagne in one hand and his glass of orange juice in the other, as he talked enthusiastically to Rusty about what Sharon assumed to be the Dodger's game that he had managed to score them all tickets for.
Andy, in a sense, was her saving grace. He had become one half of her in a way that Jack never could have been. Were they heading towards the aisle? Glancing down at the bouquet in her hand, she let her fingertips brush against the petals as her lips curled up in a beaming smile, her eyes gleaming in the bright light of the chandelier that watched over them. "Perhaps" She concluded, handing the flowers back to the bride, wishing her well one final time before returning to Andy's side.
No sooner had she arrived at his side than Rusty quickly closed his mouth, biting his lip as though he was hiding a secret that had just been whispered to him. "Cat got your tongue?" Sharon teased as she took her champagne glass from Andy. "Yeah, something like that, mom" Rusty joked, stealing a wink at Andy before he travelled across the room to where Gus was standing with Andrea and Amy.
Oh, if only his mother knew.