I laughed and wrapped my arms around her and she buried her face into my chest. I pulled away and she again closed her eyes. I didn’t think she would last much longer. Carolyn is not what you’d call a drinker. It took me about three weeks to understand this about her when, every time we went out or had a few drinks with Gene—and though she had a full stomach and was bone sober when the night began—she was a wreck and had to be carried home when it ended. Her problem was that she understood nothing of the fine points of drinking, namely, the social aspect of it. Nor did she have any grasp of her own meager tolerance. She didn’t savor alcohol and was possessed by an odd compulsion to keep pace with whoever the fastest drinker happened to be, regardless of how big that person was or whether or not they’d been drinking before she was even born. Quite frankly, she refused to be the only one not ordering when another round was being poured.

I went to the bar and got her a glass of water. When I returned, half the martini was gone. I nudged the water into her hand.

“Thank you,” she said.

“If you still want to drink the martini, promise me you’ll take two drinks of water for every one drink of that.”

“Okay.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

The balls rattled from the bowels of the table and Gene racked them as they fell.

“Doubles?” he asked.

“Umm . . . Maybe we should play singles right now,” I said and nodded to Carolyn.

“She okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. I don’t think she ate very much today. All the wine just hit her at once.”

Fear that had little to do with Carolyn registered in Gene’s eyes.

“Don’t worry, we’re not going anywhere,” I said, though I knew that wouldn’t be the case. “You want to play first?” I asked Linda.

“Nah, I’ll take on the winner.”

I grabbed a stick from the wall, chalked it, and put a line of powder between my thumb and forefinger of my left hand. I lined the cue, broke the triangle, and sent balls in all directions. A solid and a stripe fell in.

“I ever tell you I was raised in a bar?” I asked Gene.

“I think you’ve mentioned it a time or two.”

I made three balls in a row before I missed an easy bank on the two.

“I usually play better with a few drinks in me,” I said. “But I have to admit, I think I’ve entered into the law of diminishing returns.”