He was just a big, friendly man who liked his bourbon. Irene, on the other hand, became quiet and morose. Bill would nurse his double shot and enjoy i..., while Irene would pour twice as much in her glass and drink it twice as fast. Irene was a drunk.Bill looked embarrassed when Irene passed out at the table, and I was embarrassed for him. He helped her to bed and returned with a sad look on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said. “She’s an alcoholic, and won’t let anyone help her. Her sister’s tried,. What I wanted to talk about could wait.”“So, talk,” I grinned.“May I be blunt?”“When aren’t you?” I chuckled. “Even your quotes from those trashy novels are blunt! They’re just flowery language!”“True! Though I kind of had to work up to it.”“All it took was having our reservations in LA messed up! You were pretty blunt and bold.”“Fear will do that to you.”I smiled, “Sure. And so will desire.”“What?!”“Jeri, you were quiet because your mom was so domineering. You took the opposite approach from. More

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