His pause for deliberation gives her time to consider the glass in her hand and replacing it for a new one. That would be three used today, which is more dishes to do later. Growing up Walker has made her over-reliant on dishwashers, and of all the chores she doesn't do in her own home, washing dishes is routinely reshuffled to the bottom of the priority list. Jess shakes out a couple loose drops from her glass, to be reused, and gets Frank a clean one from the cupboard.

She assumed he would choose water and got dangerously close to second guessing herself for a second there. Maybe he was tallying the number of bottles he brought against his rate of consumption but she's probably thinking about it like an alcoholic.

Jess brings his glass over, offering it from over his shoulder. She brushes his temple with the back of her knuckles once he takes it. "You got a lighter?" If not, she can rootle around for one. First, she puts her glass on the coffee table -- at the far end from the whiskey for convenience's sake. They all know what's up.