The next morning, Autumn and Winter were at the nursery bright and early, with Winter doing an early shift and Autumn doing her usual all-day shift (as deputy, this was required). Winter would be finishing at three, so he would then be going home and making sure everything was ready for the children's arrival, including a wide variety of snacks such as carrot sticks, apple slices, and chocolate for their desks in their rooms. Winter, having had two glasses of wine last night, didn't have even the slightest hangover. Autumn, who'd had eight glasses, had a slight headache, but was otherwise fine. She was extremely capable of handling her liquor.
When Autumn was five, she'd stolen a few sips of her father's whiskey when he'd taken himself off to the bathroom after dinner one night. He'd immediately noticed, and she'd gotten into trouble for it. But the next morning, other than a slight headache, she'd felt a bit better than she usually would after a punishment. The alcohol had numbed the pain a bit. She'd liked that.
When she was a bit older and was allowed out on her own, she'd beg the older kids to get her a bottle of wine from the corner shop. She'd pay them for it, so they more often than not agreed. She'd then stash it in her room and slowly drink her way through it over a week or two.
As she'd grown even older, Autumn had become a secret alcoholic. She'd gotten through about ten bottles a week. It had made it easier to cope.
When she'd started working at the nursery, she'd forced herself to stop drinking so much. She's been so angry with the world for so long, but she knew drinking wasn't a healthy coping mechanism, so she'd forced herself to stop. It had been tough, but eventually, it had worked out for the best. Now, the only time she used alcohol as a coping mechanism was when she was on a night out with Marjorie. And even then she limited herself.
They arrived at the nursery, and they parted ways with a kiss.
