Chris walked in quietly and got a bowl of cereal and sat at the table. His mother didn't look at him, hiding her face behind the paper. At that moment...he wanted to be anywhere but there. However, he knew that he had to face her sometime."Going jogging?" he asked and saw his mother lower the paper. She had almost a relieved look on her face. It was obvious that she was as uncomfortable he was."Yes, I thought I would. It's sunny and fairly mild outside." It's been a pretty mild winter," he. "No," she answered in a small voice."Better not," he muttered, staring into his glass. "I didn't come home to listen to somebody bitch me 'cause I felt like having a drink or two." His voice and manner were sullen and he stared down at his drink before suddenly gulping it down and getting unsteadily to his feet and heading for the kitchen to pour himself another drink.An anger blazed in Gail. If her own husband didn't care, why should she? She held her drink aloft. "If there are any more. More

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