"I didn't know what to say. I needed to think, but everything I thought just made me furious. So, I decided to stop thinking and start drinking. But then, I saw you on the news tonight. I was in a bar and there you were. You were talking about your mom, acting like she was still in your life. It didn't make sense. I came to find you, to tell you that you're not making sense."

"You're the one who isn't making sense," I said wearily. "You're drunk."

"She's not good. Not good at all, Brynn."

"You need to sober up. I'm going to check on that coffee." I got to my feet and headed toward the kitchen. Kade met me in the hallway, a mug in his hand.

"Thank you," I said. "He's rambling on and on. I can't make much sense out of him."

"Hopefully, the coffee will help."

I took the coffee and headed back into the living room, only to find my dad had stretched out on the couch and was fast asleep, his breathing heavy. "Dad," I said.

He didn't move.

"I think he's out for the night," Kade said.

"It looks that way." I set down the coffee mug and grabbed a blanket from a nearby chair and put it over him. As I stared at him, I felt like he was a stranger, too. Not in the same way my mom was. But he had never looked like this before, and he'd certainly never acted so out of control. Hopefully, in the morning, he'd be back to a version of himself that I recognized.

I followed Kade into the kitchen, taking the coffee with me. I didn't usually drink caffeine this late at night, but one sip made my head feel clearer, so I took another.

"There's leftover pizza," Kade said, reaching into the fridge. "Hungry?"

"Not really."

"You should try to eat something. There are still cookies."

"Maybe I'll try one slice of the pizza," I said.

"I'll heat it up for you."

I slid onto a stool by the counter. "You're being so nice to me, Kade."

"You've had a rough night."

"You, too," I said, noting that the bruising on his face had only gotten darker. "Maybe you should put some ice on your eye."

"Don't worry about me."

"Does anyone worry about you?" I asked curiously.

"I hope not," he said, as he heated up the pizza in the microwave.

"That's a vague answer."

"Do you want to make your question more specific?" he countered.

"All right. Do you have someone in your life besides your mother who you care about, who cares about you?"

"I have plenty of friends, just not in San Francisco. But I don't have a girlfriend or a wife, if that's what you're asking. What about you? Do you have a significant other?"