It was mid-afternoon when I went home. She had made a lot of progress in emptying boxes and making the place a home. I looked around and wondered what it would be like with a five-year-old daughter running around. I barely made it to the bathroom before losing my eggs and hash.
I still had my head in the commode when I felt her hand on my back. All of a sudden, I hated her. "Get away from me," I almost yelled before putting my head back and losing more breakfast.
I hadn't thrown-up in years. Not since getting drunk at my high school senior prom.
When I was finished, I went upstairs, rinsed my mouth out, and brushed my teeth. She was sitting in the living room with a tissue in her hand. It appeared she had been crying. She watched as I walked past her and headed for the garage again. I w
