Colorblind

The Head vs. The Heart

George POV

I sit at the kitchen table nursing the glass of whiskey in my hand. Alma is out grocery shopping and I have been drinking since she left. I glance at the clock and then finish off my drink. I pick up the bottle of whiskey and ask myself if I still even need a glass at this point or if I should just drink straight from the bottle.

I sigh and listen to the words that the coach said that seem to haunt me and steal me away from sleep for the past few nights.

"You are throwing your life away. This girl isn't worth throwing away your future-no your legacy for. You could be great, and she isn't the right woman if she doesn't motivate you and support your dreams. Look I don't know what predicament you are in, but you are making a grave mistake. There is nothing worse than waking up with regret being the first thing on your calendar. Believe me I know from experience."

The truth is I can't tell if he is right or if he is just saying this to get me to come to Notre Dame to play for him. Then a part of me feels like he is speaking from experience. Adults tend to know things because they have lived through it. Maybe he is trying to save me from myself. I down the newly poured cup of whiskey. I pour myself another drunk and acknowledge that the bottle feels about half full. I sigh and take another large sip.

It suddenly also dawns on me that my father is going to be looking for me in a few days from now. When that bus arrives in Georgia and I am not on it, shit is most definitely gonna hit the fan. I have yet to give James the plan for when he returns alone because I simply don't have one. I haven't even been married for a week and everything is falling apart. And I just know that as soon as I don't step off that bus my dad is gonna come looking for me. If he finds us- I don't even want to think about if he finds us.

"FUCK!" I scream and then throw the glass at the wall.

It shatters into pieces and I let out a dark chuckle because the glass perfectly resembles my life. I am so stupid to have believed that this was gonna work. What a mess I've made.

Alma POV

I place the grocery bags on the floor by the front door. I insert the key into the lock and then turn it. I pick up a couple of the bags and push the door open with my foot.

"George, can you help me out with these bags please?" I ask.

As I place the bags down on the small table in the living room I watch as a drunk George stumbles out of the kitchen.

"Honey, you're home." He says and then chuckles.

"George, are you drunk? It's 12 o'clock in the afternoon." I say sternly with one hand on my hip.

He stumbles towards me and pulls me to him by my hips.

"Yes, sweetie. I am drunk and you look lovely. Come on and give me a kiss." He says.

He begins to kiss me, but I push him and say "uhh you reek of whiskey. I'll get the rest of the bags myself and you need to shower." I say.

I go to turn away and out of his arms, but he yanks me by my arm pulling me back to him.

"Now that is no way to treat your husband." He says.

"Well maybe if my husband wasn't drunk then he would get a better response." I say back.

"Oh feisty, I've always loved that about you." He says.

I shove him hard this time and I ask annoyed "What is the matter with you? Why are you drunk anyway?" 

"Well Alma, I am having one hell of a time and since my wife won't even kiss me, I guess I'll just get some love from that bottle in the kitchen." He says.