S Is for Silence

migraine, though she claimed she was fine. The discovery of the car had generated tension in each of us, but our remedies were different. Daisy longed for a bath and Tannie wanted a drink. For my part, I’d have given anything to be by myself, an impossible desire as things currently stood. I couldn’t even take to my bed because Daisy’d brought her cup of tea into the living room and now sat on the couch, where I would ultimately sleep. From the floor, Tannie said, “Hey, gang. I don’t remember eating dinner, unless I missed an episode. Is anybody else hungry? I’m about to eat my own arm.”
    After a brief negotiation, Daisy picked up the phone and ordered a large pizza, which was delivered thirty minutes later. We ate with enthusiasm, though Tannie declined any portion of the pizza that butted up against the anchovies Daisy and I had voted for. Just when I assumed we were done for the day, free to read or watch mindless TV, the telephone rang. Daisy picked up. “Oh, hi, BW. What’s up?”
    As she listened I watched her expression change. The color rose in her cheeks as though controlled by a dimmer switch. “How did that happen?” She closed her eyes, shaking her head at the nature of his response. “I see. No, no. It’s not your fault. I understand. I’ll be right there.”
    She hung up.
    “What is it?” I asked.
    “My father’s over at the Blue Moon and he’s drunk on his ass. BW wants me to get him out of there before a fight breaks out.”
    “Foley’s drunk?”
    “That’s what he says. I’ll take care of it. Why don’t you two stay here?”
    “Don’t be silly. I’ll go. You can’t manage by yourself if he’s that far gone.”
    Daisy turned to Tannie. “What about you? It’s entirely optional.”
    “Count me out. I’ll go if you need me, but I’m beat. I gotta get up early and hit the road. We get over to the Moon, I’ll end up having a drink and that’ll be it. I’m tempted, but trying to behave myself.”
    “Don’t worry about it. We’ll be back as soon as we figure out what to do with him.”
    Daisy found her purse and car keys. She said she’d be warm enough in her sweats, but she found a spare jacket for me. The evening was already chilly, and neither of us was sure how long we’d be out. On the fifteen-mile drive from Santa Maria to Serena Station, she kept shaking her head. “I can’t believe it. He’s been sober for thirty-four years and here we go again.”
    “He must have heard about the car.”
    “That’s what BW said.”
    “But why would that set him off?”
    “Beats the hell out of me. I don’t even want to speculate.”

    The Blue Moon that Friday night was jammed. Happy hour had ended at 7:00, but the drinking sailed right on. The energy level seemed manic, bespeaking much joy that the work week was done. This time the place did smell of beer and cigarette smoke. Between the loud talk, the jukebox, and alcohol-amped laughter, the noise was overwhelming.
    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