Disclaimer: Married with Children is not mine.

I am not rich man and I don't have a lot of things to take my mind off of how poor I am and how my life hasn't added up to much. But I once thought I had one solid thing that would keep me going until the day I died.

Steven Bartholomew Rhoades. What a name.

I won't lie to you and say that we acted nicely to each other everyday or even cared to ask about how the other person felt, but I thought we had something. I considered our mutual, but slight, disagreement with each other to be like how brothers feel towards each other. They may get into arguments and punch each other, but they still stick together. But I could only ever guess about that, I don't have any siblings.

I always wanted siblings. Mostly, I just wanted a brother who would stay by my side no matter what happened. I thought that Steve and I….

I guess it doesn't matter what I thought. Steve left Marcy. Steve left me. He didn't even tell me he was thinking about leaving his wife. I kind of regret all those bad things I said about her to him. Maybe, he'd still be here if I'd made his wife appeal more desirable.

But I'm no miracle worker and he had to live with her. He saw what she was really like. Although, I'm married to Peg, who's certainly no catch; but I stayed around. I stayed for my kids, even if they only love me enough to remember I'm the one who gives them an allowance every week. And I stayed for Peg, who I do love even if we get made at each other most of the time. I thought Steve and Marcy's marriage was like ours. No, I thought it was better than ours.

Ever since Marcy came storming in here, declaring her hatred for men, I've wanted to blame her for all this. I kept how I felt locked up, covering with some snide remarks about her like I normally dish out anyway. I just had to get back at her for what she's done. She made my fr--

She made Steve leave. That's what I've been trying to tell myself, as I sit up here at the top of the stairs. The rest of my family was able to get to sleep, but I can't get my eyes to stay closed. There's something I have to know.

I got up, hearing my spine give a painless crack, and walked down the stairs. I didn't bother to keep my footsteps quiet, the rest of my family are heavy sleepers. I tightened the knot on my bathrobe, clearing my through in front of the phone. My hand met its cool surface; it was ice cold because we never have the heat on in this house. It's not like we can afford it. It gave me a sickly feeling, crawling through my body. But maybe that was just from the steak I got my wife to make, saying it would cheer Marcy up. It also didn't hurt, when I said it might make Marcy leave.

I picked up the phone and began dialing the number I had secretly looked up in the phone book and memorized because of how important it is to me. I pressed the phone right against my ear, listening to the rings go on and on. Why doesn't anybody ever answer their phone after the first ring?

"Hello?" I heard a voice on the other end ask.

"Steve." I could here how desperate I was, but I didn't care.

"Al, is that you?" I heard him ask, like this was nothing.

"Yes, it's me." I said, mildly annoyed.

He asked, "What made you call?"

"Oh, I don't know," I told him sarcastically, "maybe it has something to do with you leaving your wife!"

"Is she taking it alright?"

What about how I'm taking it?, I wanted to scream, but I didn't want to start an argument with him.

"Oh, she was pretty shaken up, but she's fine." I told him calmly. "You know you could have told me you were going to do this."

"I've told you I wanted to be a forest ranger." I heard Steve say in shock.

"You didn't tell me you were going to leave." I said.

"I didn't tell Marcy either, you were fine with that." he pointed out.

I screamed, "But I'm your friend! Was it really that bad?! You couldn't have stuck around?!"

I heard his voice drop a little, maybe he felt bad about what he'd done, "Al…."

"You couldn't even stick around for me?" I asked him softly, hoping his answer would be to tell me he was sorry and was coming back.

The sound of the line hanging up struck my heart like the number 4 pump a disgruntled woman threw at me after it wouldn't fit her.

I didn't like Steve the first time we met, but he had become apart of my life. He was my one and only friend. The person I waved across the street to, when we were both walking to our cars that would take us to work. His car always looked better than mine and so did his life. I began to think about him like I do t.v.: that it's always going to be there. I never thought he'd leave.

I thought I heard remorse in his voice, when he said my name. Maybe, he hung up the phone because of how bad he felt. Maybe, he never really cared. Maybe our friendship meant nothing to him after all. I don't think I'll really ever know.

With all those thoughts blurring together in my head, I did something I hadn't done, even after all the hardships I'd faced.

I cried.