A Nantucket Affair (Nantucket Beach Plum Cove #4)(27)

“You weren’t sick tonight, were you?”

He looked down and away before mumbling, “No, not exactly.” When he spoke, waves of alcohol fumes poured off him. Kristen wasn’t sure what to do. This was a situation that was foreign to her. Without thinking too much about it, she grabbed the bottle of vodka and poured it down the sink.

Tyler flinched as it disappeared down the drain.

“Did you have to do that?”

She knew that to him, it was a shocking waste of good alcohol. Too bad.

“Tyler, let’s get you to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow. For now, you need to sleep.”

His eyes were already half shut as he swayed by the island. She took his arm and led him to his bedroom, and he went with no protest. Once they reached his bed, she waited for him to climb in and folded his covers over him like one would do for a small child. Meanwhile, Kristen’s emotions were all over the place, ranging from furious to numb to heartbreakingly sad.

She turned off his lights and closed the door behind her as she went back to the kitchen and straightened out the pots and pans, putting them back in their spots. She threw out the cut limes and put the knife and cutting board in his dishwasher, and the empty bottle of vodka in the trash.

When she left, she locked the door behind her. As she walked home to her cottage, the tears that had threatened to come spilled over. She had no experience with this and didn’t know what it meant. What had caused Tyler to relapse? Was there something she could have done to prevent it?

Did it mean that their relationship wasn’t strong enough to keep him from drinking? That was the most confusing thing of all. What did this mean for their relationship? She fell into bed and tossed and turned for a long time before settling on a plan to call Tyler’s brother, Andrew, in the morning. He would know what to do.





Chapter 16





Tyler woke the next morning in a world of pain. The sun streaming through his window was so bright and his head was throbbing. It felt like a bunch of tiny men with ice picks were hammering away. His mouth was dry and when he rolled over, his stomach heaved. He gave his odds of making it to the bathroom in time at about fifty-fifty.

He barely made it there and spent the next five minutes with his arms wrapped around the toilet. When there was nothing left but dry heaves, he slowly pulled himself up, swallowed a few Ibuprofen, washed his face and felt like the walking dead as he trudged to the kitchen and found his cell phone on the counter. There were two messages, one from Kristen and one from Andrew, about ten minutes apart.

He grabbed a bottle of cold water and popped a K-cup in the coffeemaker. Coffee would help the headache, too. Once it was brewed, he brought the steaming mug and his water to the living room where he collapsed on the sofa, took a sip of the hot coffee and stared at his phone. He assumed that Kristen had called Andrew. He didn’t blame her.

His memory of the night before was hazy, but he remembered enough to know that his little secret was out. Kristen had seen him at his worst, and he was sorry for that. But he also felt a sense of relief. It was too hard keeping that secret, trying to hide the drinking. He listened to Kristen’s message first.

“Hi, Tyler. I’m guessing that you probably aren’t feeling so great this morning. I’m sorry about that. I…I called Andrew. I’m sorry about that, too, but I know he’d want to know. We both want to help you to get the help you need. Andrew is coming here at noon, and then we’re both coming to see you. We can get through this.”

Tyler smiled at the nervous optimism in her voice. He hoped that she was right. Andrew’s message basically said the same thing, that they’d be by around noon to make a plan. He knew they both meant well and were worried for him. But he knew what he needed to do. It had worked before.

He picked up the phone and called Scotty, his sponsor. Scotty wouldn’t be surprised to hear his news as Tyler hadn’t been at a meeting in over a week. Scotty had left two messages and sounded worried, and Tyler had finally called him back yesterday and lied, said he was out of town. Scotty answered on the first ring.

“You’re not out of town, are you?”

“No, sorry about that.” Tyler paused for a moment. “What’s the name of that place you mentioned to me once? Miller something, on the Cape?”

“Murphy House in Falmouth. If you want to make the call, I’ll take you there. I’ve been needing to get off-island, anyway.”

“You sure? I could probably get my brother to go with me.”

“I’m sure. We’ll take the slow boat, so I can bring the truck and it will be good. We’ll get some coffee and settle in for a good talk.”

“Thanks, Scotty. I’ll make the call, and I’ll book the tickets for the boat, too.”

He googled the phone number of Murphy House, and it didn’t take long to confirm a spot. He felt a sense of relief when he ended the call. It was a little past ten. He had two hours before Kristen and Andrew would arrive. Tyler closed his eyes for just a minute…and woke to the sound of loud knocking on the door. He stretched slowly and glanced at the time on his cell phone. Somehow, it was already ten past noon.

He eased off the sofa and took a deep breath. His head was pounding a little less now, but it still hurt. His whole body felt like one big bruise and he really wanted a drink. Kristen had been smart to pour out the last of the vodka. He would have reached for it instead of coffee if it had been an option. It would have made him feel better, temporarily. What they said about the hair of the dog was true. He didn’t really want a drink. It was just his body that did, but it was hard to say no. His body was persuasive.