Chapter 9

“Dad, you promised me... !”

“I know, I know,” said Lindaʼs father, swaying slightly, drink in hand, as his daughter walked in.

“I just wanted one ... you know, just to settle my nerves ... but...”

“One? Dad, youʼre drinking yourself to death. What is it? Mom said you hardly ever drank at all until...”

“Until what?” he demanded, his eyes suddenly cold with fear.

“Thatʼs just the point. I donʼt know what and you wonʼt tell me. All Mom said was that you just suddenly started drinking for no reason.”

“Oh, there was a...” he stopped, turned away.


“What, Dad? What?”


“Never you mind. If I want to have a bit now and then...”


“A bit?” she asked incredulously.

“I carried out six bottles last night. Thatʼs six bottles in less than five days. Dad, you canʼt continue like this. Itʼs been bad but itʼs getting worse.” His eyes softened, his head lowered and there were tears.

“I know, Honey, I know. But...”
 But what, Dad? What is it?”


“ ... Nothing,” he said quietly in reply and turned away. She set the Chinese take-out on the table.

“Iʼve got us something to eat.”


“Iʼm ... not very hungry.”


“Youʼve got to eat ... something.”

“Maybe later.”


“Dad? You do know Iʼm here for you. Whatever it is...”


“Yeah, sure, honey. I know. Itʼs just that timeʼs like this I need to be alone.”


“I donʼt want you alone right now.”


“Please, honey. Iʼll be okay. Look!” he said setting down the empty glass on the coffee table and sliding it away.


“Dad, we can talk this out ... whatever it is.”


“Honey, thereʼs nothing to talk out. Your old manʼs a sot, thatʼs all. Now please...”
Reluctantly, she moved toward the door.


“Please eat something,” she pleaded.


“I will, I promise.”
 He watched as she slowly closed the door behind her.
And with that he sat down in the overstuffed chair, poured himself another drink and stared into nothingness.