Broken

Susan agreed that it was uniquely grand, but I secretly felt it a little too sweet for my taste. So, after the first glass I stuck to wine. Susan obviously loved the stuff and I saw Carman refilling her glass several times throughout dinner. After coffee and desert, Carman said, “I know you’re probably still a little tired after your long trip, so why don’t we retire to someplace more comfortable for a night-cap?”

We all stood and I saw Susan reach out a steadying hand to grasp the table’s edge. From past experience I knew she couldn’t drink more than two glasses of anything before she started talking funny. Once, after a friend brought over some Columbian Gold, she’d been so high after just a half a toke that she’d literally zoned-out.

Watching Raul take her elbow and lead her toward the living room I hid my smile, knowing she wouldn’t be awake much longer. Carman took my arm as we lagged behind them, Susan wobbling slightly, Raul steadying her gait.

Walking through the study toward the living room, Carman led me to a mantle where several photos of thoroughbred horses formed a grouping. An oil painting of a large black stallion adorned the place of honor. I craned my neck trying to keep tabs on Susan because I knew she might soon pass out. They had already walked through the study into the living room out of direct sight, but I could still see them through a reflection in a large mirror on the far wall. Raul had seated Susan on the sofa and sat beside her. Carman was speaking to me again, so I tried to focus on what she was saying. It seemed that she was speaking from inside a barrel.