She looked at him for a moment then sighed and brought him his drink. "Not your fault, Del," she said and squeezed his arm. "This is just typical him. He's been doing shit like this my entire life. Not your fault." She shook her head. "The worst part is that I can almost guarantee that he's not going to understand what I'm pissed off about. I mean, the audacity to just come in here and take my furniture!" She took a long drink of scotch, wincing at the taste but managing to swallow it anyway.