The BourbonAfter drinking much of the night, the next day I felt terrible. But it wasn’t just the queasy pounding headache. I felt out of control. I should never have behaved as I did towards Jon.
Something was wrong with me.
Today will be different, I vowed. I’ll have this one drink, just to feel better, but no more.
I drew my own bath, washed and combed my hair, and tried braiding it. Ma taught me to braid, of course, long ago, but it had been years since I’d done it myself. I hadn’t so much as tied my own shoes in six years. It seemed unbelievable, yet sad.
I was lighting the stove when Amelia hurried over. “Watch your shawl, mum. I’ve seen girls light themselves afire before.”
“Oh,” I said, suddenly fearful. “Thank you.”
I let her scramble some eggs for us. We had eggs back home,
