She is going to kill Danny Castellano. Kill him, dismember him and leave little bits of him all over the desert. That is if a pack of wild coyotes doesn't get to him first. The thought sends a little shiver of worry through her that she promptly ignores in favor of the angry indignation that is pumping through her.

How dare he! It's bad enough he went ahead and basically kidnapped her against her will to bring her to this shack in the middle of nowhere. But then to barge out, leaving her alone in this dump taking the keys to the rental car is unforgiveable. After the whole drama with Casey and that stupid pool party there is no way Cliff is going to believe her about any of this mess.

Cliff. Ugh. It had all been going so well. And now mean, selfish Danny had ruined her chances of winning Cliff back. Why did everything good in her life go to shit? Why couldn't she find just one nice guy (one!) to care about her as much as she cared about them? Why was Alan Castellano's couch so lumpy? She wiggles her hips slightly as they dip impossibly lower into the old tattered sofa leaving her knees lifted awkwardly above her waist.

The man in question comes into the room carrying, not the cup of tea he'd offered but rather, a large and worn cardboard box.

He sets it down at the table and nervously runs his hand along the back of his neck, head dipped towards his chin, viewing her through dark eyelashes in a gesture eerily similar to his estranged son. "I thought I'd bring these out for Danny, you know earlier, before he…" Alan trails off uncomfortably gesturing towards the door, "They're letters he sent me. From a long time ago."

Letters? From all Mindy's gathered about Danny's relationship with his father, she's surprised to hear there had ever been any communication between the two. Mindy's disbelief must show on her face since he continues, "A few years after I left, I was still living on the Island. Danny found out somehow or other. At first he'd just sent them, you know, full of curses and what not. But after awhile he started writing about everything that was going on in his life. Kinda like a journal." He looks sadly down at the box, worrying one of the flaps between his thumb and forefinger.

"And you never responded?" Mindy holds her breath waiting for an answer, surprisingly engrossed in Alan's tale of Danny's sad adolescent correspondence.

"No," Alan huffs out in a mirthless chuckle. "I did respond, after awhile. And that's when he stopped writing."

She's saved the awkward task of responding by the sound of a teakettle whistling off in the kitchen. He gives her a small apologetic smile and retreats to the back of the house leaving the box sitting there on the coffee table. She resists the urge to look inside for about 5 seconds before heaving herself off the couch and tentatively picking up a stack of envelopes. They are, not surprisingly, very similar to a stack of her own letters from Danny she has buried deep in a drawer in her closet complete with his return address neatly printed in the corner, only slightly less regular than his adult script. Maybe it is that similarity that makes it so easy for her to lift the thin and brittle paper from within and read Danny's thoughts from so long ago.

Dad,

I really wish you were around just now. Richie's been getting bullied at school again. Bunch of jocks have been telling him he's too soft, that he should dress different, be into the stuff they're into. I tried telling him to be himself, to just be Richie. That he's different and that's a good thing, but I don't know if he was hearing me or not.

Mindy pauses a moment in her reading, not unaware of the parallels that could be drawn between Danny's advice to Richie and his kind words to her. Begrudgingly she acknowledges to herself that Danny isn't always mean, that he can and frequently does stand up for the people he cares about, for her. Still that doesn't excuse him from selfishly putting his needs before hers on this little ill-conceived road trip and ruining her chances of getting back together with Cliff. Absentmindedly she picks up another letter scanning for some evidence for his proclivity to selfishness even back then.

I went with Stevie to see his Dad tonight at St. Joseph's. He didn't say anything but I could tell he could use a friend there with him. His Dad looked so pale and so much weaker then I remembered. I couldn't stop imagining it was you lying there. And I couldn't decide how I'd feel if it were.

"Oh c'mon! Really?!" she mutters in frustration. The universe is clearly being a little heavy handed in its defense of Danny today, she thinks rolling her eyes. She's about to tuck the ancient paper back into its envelope when Alan returns carrying a steaming mug in one hand and a telephone in the other. If he's perturbed to see her going through Danny's innermost thoughts he doesn't show it.

"Cab's on its way," he says raising the phone slightly to indicate he's made the call. "Here's your tea."

"Thanks," Mindy says accepting the mug and sliding down onto the couch once more. Then realizing she's still holding Danny's letter she fumbles to stand once more to return it to the box. "Sorry," she begins, "I shouldn't have gone through them."

He waves his hand at her, "Don't worry about it. It took my son 30 years to come find me. Thirty years," he repeats shaking his head slightly at all the time he's lost. "He wouldn't have brought just anyone here with him today. Whoever you are, you and he must have something special."

And for once after so many mentions of this thing between her and Danny, Mindy doesn't deny it. Because even though she doesn't know what they are to one another yet, she knows Alan is right. It's special. And she's been so preoccupied with the relationships she's wanted to build, she's been neglecting the one right in front of her. Her thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door and a moment later Danny stands before her in the living room.

"Here," he says unceremoniously tossing the keys to the rental car towards her. "Sorry. I forgot earlier." He finishes not sounding sorry at all. His gruff manner is almost enough to break her resolve but a moment later she's followed him out of the house where he's stalked away without a word to his Dad.

"Danny!" She calls after him. "Danny, wait!" This halts him in his tracks but he doesn't turn to face her.

"I'm sorry. Okay. Look at me." She demands. He turns to face her but looks somewhere in the vicinity of her shoes rather than her face. "I didn't know how important this was to you. You didn't tell me."

"But that's just it, Mindy." Danny barks suddenly taking several steps forward into her personal space eyes now glued to hers, "You didn't know. You should have known. I shouldn't have had to tell you." He stops suddenly realizing how near he's moved to her and changes tone once again, "You know what? Just forget it. Forget the whole thing. Just take the car and go back to New York, patch things up with Cliff and forget any of this ever happened."

He begins to sulk away for a third time that day when she stops him with a hand on his forearm. "You're right," she starts. And then more firmly, pulling him to face her, "You're right. And I'm not going to take the car. And I'm not going back to New York. And I'm not going to patch things up with Cl-" she stops suddenly feeling embarrassment for reasons she's not really ready to address. "Well, actually I am going to patch things up with him, but the point is, I'm staying. You're my friend. You need to be here. And I'm staying with you. I should have realized it before." They stay still a few moments just staring at one another, till Danny breaks pulling her towards him in a fierce hug.

It takes a ridiculously long amount of time for Danny to make his way back up the front steps. But when he finally does raise his right hand to the buzzer of his father's house his left is firmly engulfed in Mindy's.