A Nantucket Affair (Nantucket Beach Plum Cove #4)(20)

Slowly, he got up and made his way over to the cabinet, opened it and reached way in the back for the slim bottle of Tito’s vodka. He chuckled to himself as he saw the label. At least it was gluten-free—not that it mattered. He got his favorite glass from the kitchen, a tall tumbler with an ocean blue bottom that gave the clear liquid a blue tone. He added two ice cubes and then vodka—two thirds of the way up the side of the glass. A splash of soda and a squeeze of lemon and he had the perfect drink.

He took a slow sip and felt an indescribable rush as the cool alcohol slid down his throat. The first drink disappeared quickly. He’d always been a fast drinker, which was part of the problem. He made a second drink and tried to take his time with it. He sipped more slowly as he savored the taste. Vodka was a funny alcohol. It took its time kicking in with any effects, so it was easy to have more than you should, thinking the first drink or two was harmless. But then, it would catch up and hit you all at once.

Tyler was sprawled out on the sofa clicking through TV channels when the buzz hit and a hazy warmth spread through him. It was a delicious sense of well-being. He vaguely knew it was a lie but for the moment, he chose to believe in it. He told himself that he had the drinking under control. That he could stop whenever he wanted and that maybe he’d never really had a problem, he just didn’t know how to handle alcohol then. Now, he was older, wiser. And it seemed to help. It dulled the pain and put off the emptiness and the hurt for a little while.

He woke at three in the morning with a pounding headache. He was still on the living room sofa and had a stiff neck from falling asleep in a bad position. The television was blaring an infomercial about a food sealer. Tyler watched, mesmerized, and considered finding his phone and ordering one. But it seemed like too much of an effort, and really what would he do with a food sealer? As he slowly began to wake and to sober up, he realized that wouldn’t be smart.

He glanced toward the liquor cabinet and saw that the bottle of vodka that had been nearly three-quarters full was more than half-gone. And his glass on the coffee table was completely empty. He’d had a lot to drink. More than he’d planned. He got up, put the vodka bottle back in its spot, way in the back where it was mostly hidden behind casserole dishes and other things that rarely saw use. So there was little need to open that cabinet.

He rinsed his glass and put it in the dishwasher, then padded into his bedroom and climbed into bed. His last thought before he drifted off to sleep was that he had no other vodka in the house, and the small amount left was not enough.





Chapter 12





“You’re not hungry today?” Lisa asked Rhett when he got up for a second cup of coffee and didn’t make a plate of food. They were sitting at breakfast with Angela and the Mortons, a pleasant couple in their early sixties who were enjoying their first trip to Nantucket. The inn was full but everyone else was still sleeping, so Angela and Lisa were enjoying a leisurely breakfast. Rhett had joined them later than usual. Normally he was the first one in line for coffee, but today he had slept in. When Lisa got up, he was still sound asleep and she didn’t want to disturb him.

“I need to wake up a little first. I didn’t sleep great last night. Still feel exhausted.” He had dark circles under his eyes, and Lisa had noticed that he was getting up more during the night lately.

“Do you feel sick?” She hoped he wasn’t coming down with something.

“No, not at all. Just tired. Need a good night’s sleep. Hopefully, I’ll get it tonight.”

“Is everything going okay with the restaurants?” He hadn’t mentioned there being any issues, but if there were, it would explain why he wasn’t sleeping well.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” Rhett got up and went to get some food. He returned a few minutes later with a plate of fresh cut fruit and one slice of buttered toast. Lisa raised her eyebrows.

“That’s all you’re having?”

He chuckled as he settled back into his seat and picked up a piece of toast. “Remember I mentioned that I’ve gained a few pounds? I was serious. They need to come off. I had to go up a notch on my belt, and that hasn’t happened in years. I’d like to blame it on your good cooking, but that wouldn’t be fair. No one forces me to go back for seconds.”

“Hm. Well, we probably could both cut back a little. I’ve been thinking about trying to eat more plant-based meals and cut back on meat.”

Rhett looked alarmed at the thought. “There’s no need to go that far.”

“It’s not what you’re thinking. Plant-based is more than a bowl of broccoli. I’ve been researching it a bit and there are a lot of good, filling recipes.”

Rhett still looked skeptical.

“Don’t worry, I’ll still have plenty of meat options. I just want to eat more veggies overall. I don’t plan to cut anything out entirely, just eat less meat.”

“Okay, then.”

“We’re trying to eat more plant-based, too,” Angela said. “Philippe’s mother sent us a meal delivery box as a gift a few weeks ago. It had all the ingredients for three meals and they were surprisingly good. Philippe liked them, too. Especially one that was a stuffed sweet potato with quinoa, an herb cheese made from cashews, and a red pepper sauce. It tasted really good and was filling, too. I could send you the recipe if you like?” she offered, and added, “I think even Rhett would like it.”