“It’s no excuse, but I wasn’t feeling well either,” I say. “I had a headache.” “You drink,” she says flatly. This brings me up short. “Well, that’s not anything I want to talk about.” Kay gives a dry laugh. “No, I don’t imagine. Talking about it means you’d have to face it. But I can spot a lush a mile away. You think I’ll be dead soon? Child, go on like you are, you’ll beat me to it.” Her gaze softens. She pats my hand. “You’re not alone, you know. Plenty of help out there. Last month, my husband—second husband, met him at a meeting—took me out for my thirtieth anniversary. Thirty years of
...more
