#sam 01

It had been awhile since she’d been out drinking. No more breastfeeding, and an offer from her mother to babysit Jack for the night, and Chelsea found herself at Pravda in Downtown Wilmington. It probably wasn’t the best idea, with everything she’d had on her plate lately. Drinking was never a solution for her. It only seemed to make things worse--heighten her emotions. Make her sloppy. When nobody replied to her text messages, inviting them to come join her at the bar, she decided to order more, drink more. Nibbled on bar peanuts. She didn’t really talk to anybody--not that she could remember, anyway--and it reinforced the loneliness. How unwanted she really was. Like she deserved to be feeling the way she had been--defeated and depressed and... And another word she couldn’t put her finger on.

Chelsea wasn’t dumb. She’d caught an Uber to the bar, and she planned on catching one back home. She wasn’t sure of the time, but congregations of other drunks lined corners of streets, spilling off the sidewalk. She could feel the chill underneath the leather of her jacket, all the way down to her bones. She swayed back and forth, as if she were cradling Jack in her arms, to keep herself warm. 

It was a ride share, but when she hopped into the Uber, it was empty. She mumbled a drunken greeting to the driver, and let her head drop back against the window. When the car stopped to pick up the next passenger, Chelsea tilted her head to welcome the newcomer with a smile. “Get the fuck out of here--” She stumbled, a little, over her words. She wasn’t supposed to be swearing, for Christ sakes--but a complete surprise slipped into the backseat of the car. “No, no--you, mister, can find another ride. I’m not doing this.” Chelsea waved a dismissive hand in front of Sam’s face. Her head was spinning. This couldn’t be happening.