The next morning Dan slept in. He'd had a little too much to drink. By the time he made it downstairs, Mark had already left for the day. Alana was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee. When she saw Dan, she gave him a big smile and got up to pour him a cup.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, "you had quite a bit last night."

"Not great, actually. I think I'm getting old. I can't hold my liquor any more."

She smiled again, "I'm sorry we kept giving you drinks. But I think you needed it."

She was right. Last night was the closest...