Chapter 67 A Little Tipsy
Judson picked up the glass Eula had poured for him and took a hearty gulp.
The kick from the liquor surprised him; his eyes became even more unfocused, and yes, he was getting truly tipsy.
"I'm not fond of women who are too clever."
The brothers shared a subtle smile—this was crucial.
Just then, Eula, freshly bathed and dressed in casual home attire, descended the stairs to find her sons chatting with Judson. She approached with a warm smile.
"What are you all talking about?"
Eula got closer and caught wind of a strong scent of alcohol.
She sniffed delicately, then noticed the off-color in Judson's face—a tint of red, a flicker of confusion in his eyes.
"Judson, have you been drinking?"
Surprise filled her eyes, realizing the drinking must have happened right here.
She glanced at her two sons, Dewitt and Rodolfo, who both offered a squint-eyed grin.
"Mom, you hang with the guests; we're gonna show Angie the ropes," they chimed in unison.
Normally, those two dreaded teaching Angie because she hated hitting the books and could drive her brothers to tears.
Finally, the boys decided it wasn't essential for Angie to crack the books, figuring they'd have her back when push came to shove.
But today they're offering to teach Angie?
Eula beamed, "You guys make sure Angie gets a good lesson."
Judson, with a slight smile, thought to himself, smart kids – distract and conquer.
As the three kids scampered upstairs, Eula's gaze lingered before a sudden thought struck her.
"Judson, did they get you to drink this?"
It was only then Eula realized their offer to help Angie was a ruse.
Feeling a mix of amusement and irritation, she glanced upstairs but restrained from scolding her children in front of guests.
Standing up, she offered, "Judson, need some water? Let me get that for you. So sorry, the kids can be a handful. You don't look so good; you need a hospital?"
Just how much had they poured into him to leave him looking like this?
He'd had his fair share of drinks at social events before but never ended up like this.
Her sons, ever so assertive, would brace for a fight whenever they spotted a man approaching their turf.
Judson picked up his glass and took another sip.
"...water."
His words trailed, his eyes half-closed, barely coherent.
Eula's heart sank; he was tipsy.
Just then, Mary popped in from the kitchen, "Eula, dinner's ready."
Eula eyed the man slumped on the couch and posed the question.
"Shall we go eat?"
Could he even manage to eat without sliding under the table?
Judson lifted a hand, waving it off.
"I'm not hungry, just want to sleep."
Eula blinked, pondering her next move.
Mary inquired, " What happened with Mr. Nash?"
He was fine when he arrived; how did he end up seeming so drunk all of a sudden?
Eula gestured upstairs, "Dewitt and Rodolfo got him wasted."
Mary's eyes widened in disbelief – those were the well-behaved kids; how could they have plied someone with liquor?
Eula gave Judson a little shake, "Judson, don’t sleep yet! I'll get you to your car; you can sleep when you're home."
With that, she moved to assist Judson, planning to guide him back to his vehicle.
Judson's eyes snapped open, visibly bloodshot.
"The driver's family member fell ill; I told him to go home."
