Leading Lady

CHAPTER 18

Jackson stared at the two half-empty bottles of alcohol in his shaky hands. He couldn't believe how well Clarice had kept this a secret. All this time, pretending to be afraid that she'd fall off the wagon, it had all been an act because she'd been drinking the entire time. How long could this have been going on for? He shook his head, tears stinging his eyes. How could she do this? Why hadn't she sought professional help if she knew she was slipping – after everything they've gone through?

Jackson heard someone enter the room and knew it was Clarice. He stepped out of their walk-in closet and found Clarice slipping some rings off her fingers at her vanity table. When she looked up her face grew confused when she saw Jackson through her mirror holding the two bottles. She turned on her seat and gave him a questioning look.

"How could you?" he asked with his voice breaking.

"How could I what?" she asked confusedly, her eyes going to the bottles. "What are you doing with those? Why are they here?"

"You tell me," Jackson answered angrily.

"Jackson, I don't know what to tell you," Clarice said with a shaky voice. She stood from her chair, "Those aren't mine..."

"Then whose are they?" Jackson spat and threw a bottle against one of the walls. Clarice jumped as it shattered, drenching the wall and ground with glass and alcohol.

"Jackson, you have to believe me!" Clarice cried with surprise and bewilderment.

"I found them in your things, Clarice!" Jackson yelled, "After all the pain this disease put us through, put your kids through, why the hell would you go back to drinking? Why didn't you just talk to me?"

"I haven't been drinking!" Clarice yelled back at him, her eyes welling up with tears. "I swear it!"

"They're almost empty, Clarice!" the second bottle went flying against the same wall. Clarice jumped, looking away briefly. When she turned back to him her eyes were full of hurt.

"How could you think I'd drink again?" Clarice asked him, "You know I've been struggling lately. I've told you every time I've been tempted. I've always been open and honest with you."

"Have you?" Jackson asked with a sneer.

"Yes," Clarice nodded weakly, "Jackson, you have to believe me. I don't know how those bottles got in there. Honest, I haven't the slightest idea."

Jackson stared at her for a moment, "Then you won't have a problem coming with me to get yourself tested."

"Tested?"

"Yes, tested," Jackson said grabbing her hand and her purse from the foot of the bed and heading towards their bedroom door, where Matilda had appeared. "If you haven't been drinking then your blood will prove that."

"Jackson, wait," Clarice stopped and pulled her hand away. Their maid stared at them, wondering if she should come back to see what the crashing sounds were. "You really don't believe me?"

Jackson turned to his wife and grabbed her hand again, "Can you blame me? How would you feel if you were in my shoes?"

Clarice thought about it for a second and, despite all her confusion, she knew Jackson was right. How could she blame him? Clarice was still confused, though. How could those bottles have gotten into her things? Clarice sighed and nodded her head. "Fine. I'll go with you and get tested."

Jackson nodded and started leading her towards the stairs. He glanced at Matilda, "Please have the staff clean up the mess I made in there."

Matilda nodded and waited for them to disappear downstairs before going into their bedroom. The head maid walked over to the soaked wall and looked at the shattered bottles of alcohol on the ground. She closed her eyes in pain, hoping this wasn't a sign the family were heading back to those dark days when Clarice was deep in her alcoholism.