Bette Porter

”Fuck” is the first word that came out of my mouth as soon as I opened my eyes only to quickly close them back. Sun light is too much for me to handle.

I can’t even discribe what kind of headache I have. Not to mention the queasiness.

I need to try and open my eyes again. Doing so my headache probably thinks that it is not severe enough. ”Oh Gooodd” I moan.

What did I do to deserve this?

I turn my head in the direction of the nightstand to see if I’m lucky to have a bottle of water. Or two.

And of course not! Lucky? Me? SO not this morning. Or whatever the time is.

I slowly lift myself on the left elbow, look around the bedroom then down my body. I’m still in my crumpled shirt and dress pants. How drunk was I to not even change clothes?

Who am I kidding? As far as I remember Annie kept ordering tequila shots after we emptied our Merlot. I wince recalling how recklessly I was knocking down one after another. I think I lost my right state of mind and memory after third.

I don’t hear any sounds of Tina in the house. God, she must’ve seen me like this last night. Or maybe not, because she would’ve changed me and tucked me in, wouldn’t she? Then if she didn’t see me where was she? Okay, I need to find her.

I stood up too sharply and my head is doing this thing, when everything is spinning and rotating.

”Ahhh” Putting a hand to my forehead I go out the bedroom door towards the kitchen. As I approach I hear soft voices. Someone is here besides my wife.

No! Not Kit! Lectures will do only harm to me now.

They are sitting at the table, Kit facing me. She watches me up and down and says ”Well, baby sis. Aren’t you all fresh and full of energy this wonderful morning?” She quirks her brow inquisitively.

I roll my eyes and wince from pain in my head. I look at Tina who doesn’t turn around and I know right away that she is not happy with me.

”I just need coffee” With this dry reply I come over the coffee machine.