Disclaimer: I have absolutely no claim to Desperate Housewives nor do I want to try to make one. This is just for my own crazy entertainment.

Story Summary: A phone call on a bad day. A Tom/Lynette vignette.

A Moment of Distance

a story by Ryeloza

Lynette brushed her hair out of her face, leaving a wet, soapy trail across her forehead. Her pleas for the twins to stop splashing had fallen on deaf ears, as usual, and Lynette felt exhausted enough to about give up on bath-time for the night. Maybe Parker's bath would have to wait until tomorrow.

"All right. Stand up. We're done."

Porter laughed and Preston slapped the water, sloshing another pint over the side. "Boys, I'm serious. We're done." Allowing no more room for argument, Lynette leaned over and pulled the plug on the drain. The boys had just stood up when the phone began to ring.

"Telephone!"

Lynette rolled her eyes and wrapped a towel around Preston before turning her attention to Porter. "Parker," she shouted, rubbing down her son, "answer the phone, please!"

Parker, who was flipping halfheartedly through a book on his parents' bed, scrambled to grab the phone off of its resting place on the nightstand. "Hello?"

"Hey, buddy. How are you?"

"Dad!" Parker bounced up and down on the bed, excited; he never seemed to be the one to answer when his father called. "Guess what happened today?"

"What?"

"Mrs. Young died."

"What? Parker…"

"Dad, there was an ambulance and a police car and everything! All right across the street."

"Parker, put Mom on the phone."

Parker sighed and rolled off the bed, trudging down the hall to the bathroom. "Mom, Dad wants to talk to you."

Lynette reached out a hand for the phone, simultaneously bending to look her boys in the eyes. "All three of you, go get your pajamas on and then right back here to brush your teeth. Now."

As the boys ran out of the room, Lynette tucked the phone between her cheek and shoulder and began to fold the towels. "I thought you knew better than to call during bedtime."

"Sorry. You know the time difference throws me off of routine. Lynette, Parker said Mary Alice died."

Lynette froze and curled the towel into a ball, slowly sinking down to sit on the toilet. "Yeah. She, uh, shot herself."

"Oh my God." Lynette pinched the bridge of her nose, wishing desperately that her husband was there with her instead of across the country. In her mind, she could picture him sitting on the bed in some drab motel room, tie undone and shoes off. "Why?"

"I don't know. I just saw her this morning, Tom. I didn't think for a second that she was going to kill herself."

"How could you? God, Mary Alice always seemed so stable. I mean, I thought she seemed happy, didn't you?"

Lynette nodded though she knew Tom couldn't see; inexplicably now was the time her eyes finally welled with tears. Hearing Tom's voice, the ever-present love in his tone, was her undoing. "Yeah," she managed to choke out.

"Honey, are you okay?"

Down the hall, Lynette could hear the boys shouting and she stood, brushing the tears from her eyes. "No. But I will be. Look, I have to wrangle the kids."

"I know. Two weeks, baby. I'll be home."

Lynette nodded mutely again. "Love you."

"I love you too. Night."

For a moment, Lynette stood staring at the puddle of water on the linoleum. Then she took a deep breath and pulled her strength to get through the last moments of the day, forcing herself to forget that she'd have to do it all again tomorrow.