Page 84 of Storm in a D Cup

Shit. I’d meant it as a Genie-in-the-bottle pun. I hadn’t meant herdrinkingproblem. I felt horrible. Julian closed his eyes and raked a hand through his hair.

Genie Stacie’s eyes popped out of her head and she looked at Julian in anguish. ‘You told her!’ she squealed at Julian who was slowly coming up the stairs, his eyes darting to mine, hurt. I’d unwillingly betrayed his confidence in me. I’d never done anything like that before.

Shit, shit, shit. How the hell was I getting out of this one?

‘Told me what?’ I asked, desperately thinking of something to undo what I’d done. ‘Look, I’m sorry about the Genie-in-the-bottle comment, but really, what the hell was your mother thinking when she named you?’

She looked at me, still unsure, then at Julian as she finally squared her shoulders and sniffed. ‘Never mind.’

Not knowing what to do or say, I turned and went upstairs to our bedroom, seething but also feeling like the world’s biggest shit at the same time. And Julian, instead of following me, stayed with her. Instead of his own wife. It would be a long way uphill indeed.

*

‘Mom?’ Maddy called from the front door later that day.

‘Yes?’ I called back.

‘I’m going out with Genie Stacie, Angelica and Joey, OK?’

Talk about an inclusive family. ‘OK!’ I chimed. ‘Go right ahead!’ I figured she was better off not seeing me so miserable. Genie Stacie’sowndaughter wasn’t enough. Now she wanted mine too. I was losing my only daughter to my rival. Might as well throw in Warren too, as a bonus.

I ditched my coffee and poured myself a glass of wine instead, sinking down into the sofa. As much as I hated to admit it, Genie Stacie was right – I always wore track bottoms or jeans. Or even my PJs when we didn’t have guests. Iwasa mess. I wasn’t trying hard enough to keep my man. I didn’t know I had to. I thought love was forever, and although I appreciated the need to look good for your man, that had not been the first thing on my mind lately. I didn’t exactly subscribe to the ‘Never let him see you without make-up school’, either.

It was funny, because whatever Julian wore – mainly jeans – he looked terrific, whether they were his designer jeans or his covered in horse-muck jeans. He had that innate, natural class and good looks, whereas I had to make an unbelievable effort to make sure my hair was half-decent, that my concealer hadn’t rubbed off and that my clothes were something I’d actually be OK being caught dead in.

I poured myself another glass of wine, thinking I shouldn’t be drinking on an empty stomach, so I made myself some popcorn. There was a Queen special on TV so I sat and watched as Freddie Mercury pranced around the stage, his melodic voice coming out of the speakers, filling the room with a tangible warmth and sense of sadness. ‘Love Of My Life’, he was singing, and I grabbed another handful of popcorn and jabbed it down my throat to stop the tears from surfacing. Julianwasthe love of my life – the only man in the world I could ever see myself with.

Before I knew it, I was reaching for my fourth glass, swaying now to the notes of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ – the part where it becomes pure, angry rock.

Man, I loved this song!

‘Erica?’

I whirled around with my glass, spilling red wine –shit– all over the white rug. Julian. He took a closer look at me. ‘Are you…drunk?’

‘Ofcourshenot,’ I answered. ‘I’m just shinging wit’ Freddie. Why do you ashk?’

But Julian took the remote and Freddie disappeared from the screen. When I groaned, he sighed and sat down, patting the sofa next to me. ‘We need to talk, sweetheart.’

‘I don’t want to talk. I want to shing!’

‘You’re stoned drunk. How long has this been going on?’

‘You’d know if you were around,’ I snapped. Boy, could I smell a fight coming. One that would’ve sobered anybody.

Julian gently took my hands and I let myself fall on the sofa next to him.

‘Listen to me, Erica,’ he said, softly but so firmly I focused my attention on him as if he was shouting. ‘I know how freaked you are because it’s the same for me.’

I snorted and he put his finger under my chin so I had no choice but to really focus. Boy, was it hard, with the wine and the rhythm of the music still swaying and swirling inside me. But I tried all the same.

‘Has this ever happened before?’ he asked. ‘Have you ever drunk this much?’

With images of Marcy’s drunken and embarrassing moments of truth, I sobered instantly. ‘No,’ I said. ‘I swear. This is the first time.’

Luckily Julian believed me. His face cleared instantly. ‘Good. Because you are my rock, Erica. And I can’t see you crumble. Especially when I need you so much.’

I burped. ‘You need me?’

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