He and Trixie fixed dinner for three, and set the table for three, though Melinda refused to sit down with them. Melinda had not done any marketing, so Vic had opened one of the cans of whole chicken that had been sitting on the shelf for a forgotten length of time. He had also opened a bottle of Niersteiner Domthal from the back of the liquor closet and poured some for Trixie and himself into stemmed glasses over a couple of ice cubes. He had made mashed sweet potatoes topped with toasted marshmallows, because Trixie loved them. Vic and Trixie had a long discussion about wines, how they were made and why they were different colours, and Trixie got tipsy enough to insist on classifying root beer as a wine, really her favourite, she said, so Vic let her call it a wine without correcting her.
‘What’re you doing, getting the child drunk?’ Melinda asked, passing by them with her fourth or fifth drink.
‘Oh, a glass and a half,’ Vic said. ‘She’ll sleep better. You should consider it a blessing.’
I know this is 1957 but giving your 6-year-old a glass and half of wine (undiluted) is crazy! She's 6 years old, Vic, you unbelievable asshole.