The Secrets and Lies of Yooper Girls

Wendy had wanted at some point in her father's story to reach out her
hand and take his hand in hers. But, like a nervous teenage boy on his
first date, her hand had only made it a few inches across the table.
"I . . . well, I'm sure you know I drank," Paul confessed.
"Dad, seriously, you don't owe me an explanation."
She felt a bitter taste reside in her mouth and took a drink of her
water. The water did nothing to dispel the bitterness she both tasted
and felt.
"Well, I just want you to know, little girl, I don't plan on drinking again.
Eighteen years of sobriety is way too long to throw away."
"I know, Dad," she said with little emotion and even less conviction.
She sat back and crossed her arms, wishing she had some food to
quell the uneasiness in her stomach. The waitress, as if on cue, set
their meals down in front of them.