Gene made four but scratched on the fifth. The remaining balls were in good order, and for some reason I was playing well beyond my abilities. I made every shot and left the eight for an easy straight-in, thus relegating Gene to the role of spectator. I bent over the table and lined the cue. I took the shot and the eight dropped in the corner pocket with ease.

I racked the cue and walked to Carolyn. Her chin rested against her chest and the martini glass was empty. The water remained untouched. I shook her awake and she opened her eyes.

“You okay?”

“I don’t feel very good. Can we go home?”

I looked at Gene and Linda. They seemed to be getting along just fine.

“Sure. Give me two minutes.”

I walked over. “I’m going to have to get her home,” I said. “I think she’s ten minutes from passing out. You guys should stay and play.”

Gene looked at Linda. “Want to stay?”

“Well hell yes. You can’t cheat me out of my turn just like that.”

I shook Gene’s hand and hugged Linda. “Thanks so much for coming out.”

“Of course. Thanks for the invite. Now get that poor girl home,” Linda said.

Carolyn stumbled up and I placed her right arm around my shoulder, supporting her weight as best I could with my arm around her waist. We were only four blocks from home, but it felt more like twenty. On the last block, I picked her up and cradled her in my arms like a child. She wrapped her arms around my neck.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” she said. “I’m sorry I got so drunk.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “We had a good time.”

“We did,” she cooed, her lips against my stubbly cheek. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I got her upstairs and gently lowered her onto the bed. I undressed her and covered her with the duvet. I placed the trashcan beside the bed and prayed she’d use it if it came to that. The cat lay at her feet. I undressed and snuggled up beside her. I was drunk myself, and feeling pretty damn good about everything.

5

I woke sometime later to Carolyn retching into the toilet. I filled a glass with water and carried it to the bathroom with two Aleve. Her cheek was against the toilet seat and she looked up at me despairingly without moving her head.

“You okay?” I asked.

“No.”

“Anything I can do?”

“Just love me, okay?”

“I do love you. Here, drink some of this water and take the Aleve.”

“Oh god, I hurt.”

“I know, darling, but try to take these and drink as much of this as you can. You’re dehydrated. It’ll make you feel better.”

I flushed the toilet and sat beside her on the floor. She released a deep, helpless sigh. I gently rubbed her back.