“So,” said Ruth, turning her back on the swaying art dealer and focusing on Suzanne. “I hear you’re a drunk.” “Very true,” said Suzanne. “In fact, I come from a long line of drunks. They’d drink anything. Lighter fluid, pond scum, one of my uncles swore he could turn urine into wine.” “Really?” said Ruth, perking up. “I can turn wine into urine. Did he perfect the process?” “Not surprisingly, he died before I was born but my mother had a still and would ferment everything. Peas, roses. Lamps.” Ruth looked disbelieving. “Come on. Peas?” Still, she looked ready to try. She took a swig of her
...more
