Foley Sullivan sat at the bar, oblivious to everything, like a man submerged in a deprivation tank. He and his whiskey had been separated for three decades. Now, like old lovers, they’d been reunited, and he was busy reestablishing their relationship, leaving no room for anyone or anything else. He sat ramrod straight. His face was still gaunt, but his deep-set eyes were now bright with relief. His was the kind of drunkenness that had him two sips away from a blind, flailing rage.

Daisy approached, making sure he saw who she was before she laid a hand on his back. She leaned in close in order to make herself heard. “Hey, Dad. How’re you doing? I heard you were here.”

He didn’t bother to look at her, but he did raise his voice. “I see you whipped right over to look after me. Well, I’m fine, girl. No need. I can handle myself. Appreciate your concern, but I believe it’s misplaced.”

“What prompted this?”

“I guess I was born with a taste for brimstone. You ought to have one yourself. Whiskey will melt the sorrow right out of your soul.”

The man on the stool next to Foley’s had caught their exchange. I wasn’t sure whether he knew Daisy and her father or simply understood that this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to hear. He vacated his place and Daisy slid onto the stool.

Foley had gone back to his contemplation, staring into his glass as though into the dark heart of mankind. When Daisy touched his arm, he seemed surprised that she was still there. The smile he gave her was sweet. “Hello, Sweet Pea.”

“Hello, Dad. Could we go outside and talk? I need some fresh air, don’t you?”

“Nothing to talk about. That car was the final tie.” He made a slicing motion with his hand. “Severed. Just like that. She knew it’d cut me to the core if it ever came to light.”

“If what came to light?”

“The car. She buried it before she left. I paid and I paid because I loved her and thought she’d be back. Dear god, I wanted her to know she didn’t owe me anything.”

“What are you talking about?”

He focused on her face. “They found her Bel Air. I thought you knew.”

“Of course, I knew. The sheriff’s office called me this afternoon.”

“Well then, fair enough. We have to accept the fact. Your mother laid it in the ground and then she went off. We have to make our peace with her abandonment.”

“She didn’t bury it. You can’t believe that. How could she manage?”

“Obviously, she had help. Fella she ran off with must have helped dig the hole.”