Zoe recognized the bottle as soon as she looked at it. It was a bottle of gin.

She immediately looked at the linoleum floor and said nothing.

Mother

Well?

Her mother had noticed Zoe looking at the bottle, and she had to struggle to maintain her placid face. She had set the trap and was clearly expecting some satisfaction.

Zoe

Well what?

Mother

Were you drinking your father's gin last weekend, when Elise was over?

Zoe

Of course not.

Mother

Then why is that bottle filled with water?

Zoe shuffled her feet. It had seemed like a good idea at the time—water and gin looked the same, after all—but she should have known her father would notice the switcheroo eventually.

Mother

Are you going to answer my question?

Zoe

Mom, I don't even know what you're talking about. We weren't drinking.

Mother

Well, your father is the one who called it to my attention. Are you suggesting your father filled his own gin bottle up with water?

Zoe shrugged her shoulders.

Mother

Why in the world would your father do that?

Zoe

I don't know ... don't a lot of alcoholics try to cover it up?

Mother

Your father is not an alcoholic.

Zoe had to stifle a laugh.

Mother

You think this is funny?

Zoe

No.

Mother

What are we going to do about this, Zoe?

Zoe

I don't know.

Mother

If you were in my position, how would you punish yourself?