As she walked back into the kitchen, she glanced in the living room and noticed that her father was waking up. "Hey, Dad! I'm making coffee. Want some? Want something to eat?"David reached to the side of his recliner and, picking up a bottle of beer, turned it up, drinking the remainder of what was left. "I'm good. How about bringing me another beer from the fridge?" he slurred.Alarm bells went off in her head. She knew, of course, that he had started keeping beer again. She and Caleb had discussed it, but Caleb had assured her that David was not drinking very much. But her dad was slurring his words. He had not made any coffee, like he had been doing."You sure you wouldn't rather have coffee, Daddy? You've had enough beer," she stated."I'll decide when I've had enough beer," he shouted. Then, seeing the hurt look on his daughter's face, "I'm sorry, honey. You're right. I'd love a cup of coffee. Can you put a little sugar in mine? My back is really hurting. Can you bring it to me?
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