...He fell into the room rather than walked. With one grimy hand along the wall for support, the other one swung wildly seeking balance when it came in contact with a lamp, bumping the shade and sending the precious antique flying off the table. Gloria released a tiny yelp of alarm when it hit the floor. That was when he spied her.
"What did you do? Wait up all night for me?" The effort of formulating speech was too much in his drunken state, sending him catapulting to a nearby recliner. The overstuffed chair rocked and squeaked when he landed.
"Did you blow your paycheck again?" she asked, standing taller, preparing for battle.
"Is that all you care about is my money? What about me?" With both arms he struggled to lift himself out of the chair. He failed.
"At this point, I don't give a damn about you. But this was my mother's house, and I'm here to protect it."
"Protect it from what? Me?" His outrage propelled him out of the chair. "I ought to kick your ass across your 'mother's house' just to show you who's in charge now."
"You lay a hand on me, and I'll kill you." More...