Dad was sitting on one side of the couch, still dressed, one knee over the other, the side table lamp casting a soft light. He wasn’t watching TV. H... wasn’t reading. He seemed to be looking off into the distance.And then she saw his eyes. They were full of pain and confusion. Concern hit Addison, a wave of worry and annoyance. Over the past several weeks Dad had appeared so relaxed, as if he’d adapted to his condition, funny, sometimes goofy, always considerate; the New Dad. But, watching him,. .." Diane smiled. "My mom and dad were raving alcoholics; they were abusive to each other, and they were abusive parents too. My mom would beat the hell out of my dad when he was passed out drunk - I mean she just wailed on him sometimes. Dear old dad would get back at her when he sobered up - which wasn't often - by dragging my mom to their bedroom and sexually assaulting her. First you'd hear her screams of resistance when she knew he was in "one of those moods", then her pleading, begging,. More

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