Luke lifted Emma over his shoulder, turned back the comforter, and placed her in bed. He considered only removing her shoes but that was too deep into the bad parent zone. On the other hand, he couldn’t risk her waking and demanding to go back to Lanie’s — because that clearly was not an option. He compromised by slipping off her overalls and covering her. If she woke later, he’d change her into pajamas and brush her teeth. If not, maybe child services wouldn’t learn he’d let her sleep in a Pull-Up and t-shirt — oh, and let’s not forget the perfectly symmetrical hair bow, tied by Lanie Heaven. He went to fetch a beer from the refrigerator but changed his mind and poured two fingers of bourbon instead. He’d been careful about alcohol since the accident. He’d never had a tendency to drink too much but he’d seen tragedy turn better people than himself into drunks. He couldn’t afford that. At first he didn’t drink at all but, lately, he’d come to trust that he could have a drink without longing for another.
