There was a silence between the two. The house seemed to slowly stop working, as no sounds came from it, either.
"A-alcoholic?" Reba managed to stutter out.
Brent nodded. "You didn't know?"
"No. He didn't tell me."
Brent shrugged. "I didn't mean for you to find out this way."
Reba backed up to the counter, eyes staring straight ahead. "It's fine."
Brent watched her. She seemed genuinely hurt that her husband, his dad, had been keeping such a secret. And that was how he knew that she loved him.
"Would you tell me about it?" She asked. "If you want to. If it's uncomfortable for you to talk about, don't."
"I'm fine. You don't look like you are, though."
She slowly lifted her eyes to look at him. "I'm fine. I just want to know the whole story so I can get him help."
"Well, he's been drinking since he was about thirteen." Brent nodded as Reba's eyes widened. "He was pretty good at keeping it a secret since his parents were always working and never caring or paying attention to what he did. It continued up until ten years ago. When my mom died, he laid down the bottle and didn't pick it back up."
"Until he married me."
"I guess so..."
Reba sighed, feeling hurt and misled. She was sure that Ford had been completely and thoroughly honest with her about his past. She had been truthful about her own.
Don't jump to conclusions. Maybe he's just ashamed.
But part of her wasn't so sure. They were married. Shouldn't he have told the truth no matter what the truth was? She sure thought that was what marriage was all about.
xXx
Later that evening, Brent had planned to go out with a few friends from high school, so Reba and Ford would be home alone. Ford came home soon after Brent left and Reba had already planned out what she was going to say. It wasn't like he was trying to drink in secret, so there was no reason to bust him for lying. The only problem she had was his deceitfulness.
She was sitting where Brent had been sitting earlier in the kitchen, working on some paperwork, when Ford came in through the back door.
He groaned from a hard day's work and dropped his briefcase on the counter. "I have had a full day."
"So have I... So have I..."
He didn't respond, going to the refrigerator and peering in. "Is Brent here?" He asked, looking over his shoulder.
Reba hadn't looked up from her paperwork once. "No, he's out with friends."
"Oh. That's cool." He grabbed a beer and popped the cap off. "When will he be back?"
"Don't know."
Ford took a long drink, sighing when he finally set the bottle on the counter. "What are you up to?" He asked, looking over her paperwork from where he stood.
"Just some stuff I didn't get done today."
"I brought some stuff home, too. We can work together." He opened his briefcase and pulled out a few papers.
"Lemme ask you a question."
"Shoot."
She finally looked up at him and Ford frowned when he saw her red nose and tear stains. "If Brent had been here, would you have gotten something different to drink?"
"What?"
"You heard me. Would you have? Is that why you asked if he was here? You knew what he would think if he saw you drinking."
Ford tried once more to play dumb. "What?"
"Stop that!" Reba yelled. "Brent told me all about your little secret. Apparently you've been an alcoholic all your life, got sober for ten years, then started drinking again when you met me?"
"That's not how it is..."
"Then how is it?"
"Reba, come on. What does it even matter? I don't get violent with you when I drink. Why should I stop when it's not a problem? I don't even drink that much."
"What's the first thing you did when you got home just now?"
"Put my briefcase down."
Reba stared at him, feeling the tears begin to well up. "Why are you being this way?"
"What way?"
"Hurtful. I asked you a question, why do you have to answer it like that?"
By now her voice was shaking and that seconds-before-you-cry ache in your throat began.
"I don't know why it matters if I'm drinking responsibly."
"How do I know that you are?"
"What?"
"You're not always with me. You always want to work from home. Who knows what you're doing all day here, alone."
"Working. What do you think I'm doing?"
"I don't know. How am I supposed to know you're not lounging around with a bottle all day?"
"If I was doing that, we'd be out on the street."
Reba shook her head. "I don't like you drinking, knowing you've had trouble with it."
"Reba, it's not a problem-"
"Yes, it is. Even if you didn't have a drinking problem and I was uncomfortable with it, you not stopping when I asked you to is a problem."
"How so?"
"It means you're choosing drinking over me!"
"I am not!"
"Then stop."
"But-" He began to argue but stopped when he saw her eyes. They were glistening with tears. He sighed and put his head down. "Fine. I won't drink anymore."
"You promise?"
"I promise." He took his half-full beer and poured the remaining contents down the sink to show her he meant it. "No more, okay?"
She nodded, finally letting the tears spill over. He walked over to her and waited for her to stand to wrap her in his arms. She looped her arms around his neck and cried onto his chest.
"Baby, why are you crying?" He whispered into her hair.
"I'm just so afraid of everything going wrong."
He comforted her but that didn't stop the nagging thoughts in the back of her head. If he hadn't brought up his drinking problem before now, what else was he trying to keep secret?
Hope this chapter did the story justice. (: