"Thanks," he said, his voice sounding gruff, as he accepted a cup of steaming hot coffee from Sharon. She hummed briefly, acknowledging his gratitude, and before she could say anything, he cupped his hand around the mug and tried to take a few deep breaths. He'd been sitting there in the kitchen now for almost a half hour. He felt badly that apparently his knock at the door, his intrusion into Sharon's house, had awakened Ricky. She'd gone to tend to him, and even though he'd offered to just leave, she'd pointed at her table, her eyes telling him he was going to stay; it wasn't a discussion.

"I'm sorry I woke Ricky," he finally uttered, not sure what else she was doing there in the kitchen. He could see her, but she had some things out on the counter. That was not Sharon's style. Normally, things were well kept, but it looked like some boxes and piles of mail from her trip.

"You didn't wake him," she finally said, walking back to the table. She handed him a plate; it was an egg salad sandwich. He looked up at her, and she sat down across from him, coffee and a sandwich for her as well. "He's had an ear infection. Just add it to the list of things going well right now," she sighed. "Poor baby has been miserable. I hate that I can't be home with him right now, but I've already missed so much work. Thank goodness one of the women from my church was able to help with him, but I was really hoping he would be feeling better. That medicine just isn't working quickly enough for him. It's why I was still up after midnight."

"I'm so sorry," Andy closed his eyes as he shook his head. "Of course, about Ricky, but I'm so sorry for all of this, for dumping on you, for drinking again. I just-I'm such a loser."

"You're an alcoholic," Sharon said, nodding at him when his eyes met hers. "Eat your sandwich."

"Thanks," he frowned. "You don't have to look out for me."

That actually earned a chuckle from Sharon, and she eyed him. She nodded at him, "Apparently, I do. Let's just call it repayment for taking care of my yard."

"You noticed?" Andy asked, surprised to hear her say that. He hadn't mentioned to her doing the yardwork; he hadn't spoken to her at all. Yet, here, she brought it up right away.

"I noticed," she stated after sipping her coffee. Andy wasn't sure how she could sip it, hot as it was, but she was drinking hers. He tried to sip on his, but it was still way too hot for his liking. He started on the sandwich, not realizing until he was swallowing his bite just how hungry he was.

"Thanks for this," he held up the sandwich as he chewed. "Didn't realize I was so hungry. I guess," he paused trying to decide if he wanted to admit it, "I guess I went straight from work to the bar. My car is still at the bar. Like I said, not drunk, but I was smart enough not to drive."

"That's a start," she said with a short tone. "What next?"

"Back to AA tomorrow," he said with a single, firm nod. "I know drinking isn't the answer. I don't know why I stated again."

"I'm sure you do," Sharon said again, sipping her coffee. "Wanting to stop has to be on you, as well as not letting what got you started again get in the way. So? What was it?"

"Too much to put on your plate right now," Andy shook his head, not wanting to dump more on her. "I promise I'll tell you, but I am worried about you. I'm really sorry about your dad. I would have done more before, but I didn't know. I found out when I spoke to your neighbor."

"I kept it that way," she explained. He furrowed his brow, trying to understand. "I keep my personal life to myself. I didn't tell anyone at work who didn't directly need to know. I'm not trying to be insensitive," she said, and as she said that, Andy heard her voice crack. He snapped up his head when she did that, and he caught her trying to wipe away a tear. "I'm sorry," she waved at him. "I just want my personal life to stay that, personal. Work knew I had taken a leave of absence to deal with aging parents, and for the most part, that's what most people still know. My boss, the department secretary, honestly,"she sighed, "about the only ones who know the truth."

Andy reached over to squeeze her hand, "Sharon, I'm sure people would care to know about your dad. You don't have to stay so closed off from the world."

"I know," she nodded, pulling her hand back to wipe her face again. "It's how I want it, though."

"Understood," he nodded. "I get it. I don't want people to know I'm a washed up drunk, but I am not ashamed of AA. It's more like it's not a conversation starter."

The two sat; the silence was almost too much. Neither knew what to say. Both had so many issues, so they just continued to sip on their coffee and eat their sandwiches. Sharon noted Andy had finished his, stood, walked to the counter, and she returned with another sandwich. He tried to brush his hands in front of his plate.

"Just eat it," she sighed. "I have all of this egg salad, and I'm getting tired of eating it. It was something simple and quick to make when I got back. With Ricky now with this ear infection, I just haven't gotten back into my routine."

He watched her sit, and with a sad smile, he nodded to her, "Thanks."

The silence resumed. It was now after 2:00 in the morning. At least the kids were sleeping. Finally, Sharon cleared her throat, "I can't believe my dad is gone. I miss him so much, and I hate this for my mom. You always know-" she started to say but stopped. Andy put down his sandwich to give her his full attention. "Sometimes I wonder what life will be like all alone. My mom is alone now, yes, but she had all those wonderful years with my dad. I won't know what that is like. That trip home was horrible in so many ways. I just can't get it out of my head."

Andy was silent for a few moments, but then, it felt like he needed to say something, "I can only imagine," he finally told her.

"So many ways," she shook her head, fighting back tears. "It has almost been too much."

"What can I do to help?" Andy asked.

For several seconds, Sharon didn't answer. When she finally did, her eyes met his, "You can help yourself. You can't help anyone until you help yourself."

"It starts today," Andy pointed his index finger at the table. "I promise. I threw away over a year of sobriety. Not again, Sharon. It's not happening again."

She met his eyes, "You and I both know you threw away more than that," she told him. "You have to help yourself, just as I have to do right now. I don't think we are much good to anyone if we can't do that."