"Wait a second, Kevin. I have taken more time off in the last month than I have in the past two years..." He asks her how that makes up for it, and she gets to the point and she gets there fucking snappy: "What is it I'm making up for, Kevin?" He doesn't even know. He can't say it in words. He just digs in his heels: "You've taken five days off in the last two years, is that enough?" Enough for what? What the fuck?
She goes to the bathroom; he keeps screaming: "It doesn't even matter because most of the time when you're home you're not here. I mean, yeah, you're standing here, but you're a million miles away. I don't know where the fuck you go!" More truth. Too much truth. "You always come home and then you pretend like you didn't miss anything. And then you run around and try and fix shit. You become a shitstorm of Fix it! Fix it! Fix it! That's the last thing Gracie needs."
It's like watching somebody put together a puzzle you've done before, or suffer through the last ten minutes of a movie you've got memorized: Just horrible. Painful and eternal, watching him fumble through all this bullshit and the conflicted anger and sadness that's been building up, like this incredibly dense forest that he's wandering through, and he's getting so close to the answer and he doesn't even know it's the answer because he doesn't know what the question is. It hurts to watch. And on some level, it scares Jackie to see him come so close to the stuff she's not even allowed to think about, so she rises to the occasion.
"Gracie? Who said anything about Gracie? You're not going to fucking put this on me. Fuck you, Kevin!" He swears it's not him, he's the one who's there, which is not just a hint about their sham marriage or her cheating or her tinker-toy creation of this entire universe around herself, but a comment on her as a mother to a broken little girl. Which is also how you lost the fight.
"Of course you're here. Where the hell else you gonna be? At a concert? At a fucking class? Reading a book somewhere? No, this is where you are, this is where you were, this is where you're always gonna be, because you're a fucking bartender!"
And what he'll never understand, and she barely knows, is that this is exactly why she loves him. She's not trying to hurt his feelings -- she's pushing buttons, but only because he pulled out the knives first -- she's trying to explain why he is essential. Kevin is, Kevin was, Kevin will always be. He is home. Without him, there could be no Eddie and without Eddie, she could never be with him. She is his completely; she is not his at all.