The next day at the station was blessedly normal. No sending several of his men down to the river to patrol in boats with still others hiking through the brush, scouring the riverbank and nearby forest for Jason's body. No contending with his force or other officials about the money going into the search while more urgent matters went unfunded and unconsidered. True, Tom still was making and answering phone calls and responding to the controversy surrounding his decision, but he had known all along that there would be talk when the Blossom case was pushed to the back burner.

And yet, after he left the station at six in the evening, Tom found himself driving to Sweetwater River and walking along its banks for close to an hour, unable to ease the growing feeling of guilt inside of him.

The parallels were too clear. A boy his son's age, suddenly vanished, swept away by the river in a tragic accident. The randomness of the incident alone unnerved Tom, but he could hardly cope when he was forced to consider the similarities between his situation and the Blossoms'. How many times had Kevin played on the river's banks growing up, or gone riding his bike along the nearby trails? Even today, Kevin went there with his friends to go running, fishing, and boating. The victim so easily could have been Tom's own son instead of someone else's. And failing to do his job, not being able to retrieve Jason's remains for the Blossoms, had made that point all the more painful. Tom didn't even want to think about how much he would be suffering if he were in their place.

He hadn't wanted to end the active investigation into Jason Blossom's disappearance. But at six weeks in with no leads and no evidence Jason had even survived the rowboat tipping over, it would be irresponsible to allow its precedence to continue.

A family was missing a child. A mother and a father were desperately holding onto hope that their son wasn't dead. But Tom didn't see how Jason Blossom could possibly still be alive, not at this point.

With a sigh, he started to trudge back to his truck, only to meet Kevin three-quarters of the way down the trail, holding a picnic basket.

"What are you doing here?" Tom questioned, bemused.

Kevin only gave him a cautious smile. "When you didn't come home tonight, I figured you'd be here." He nodded toward a grove that contained several picnic tables and an incredible view of the water. "I brought dinner—nothing fancy, just sandwiches. But we can eat here, if you like."

"That's fine," Tom said agreeably. With the way he had been treating Kevin lately, he had no problem going on an impromptu picnic if that was what his son wanted.

Wasting no time, Kevin extracted a checkered tablecloth from the basket and spread it over the nearest table. Tom withdrew the remaining contents: numerous sandwiches, coleslaw, a bag of potato chips, a jug of lemonade with several cups, and a tupperware container of freshly chopped strawberries

"Thank you for doing this," Tom said sincerely as they sat down to eat.

"It's not a problem," Kevin replied with a quiet fondness in his voice.

As they ate, the conversation was mainly Kevin chatting about miscellaneous details regarding the cross country team, his summer as a camp counselor, and the ongoing events in the lives of his friends. Tom did not contribute much beyond the occasional remark, but he enjoyed hearing Kevin talk about mundane and trivial topics, as if he was just a normal teenager and he and Tom had a normal father-son relationship.

It wasn't until they were cleaning up after their meal that Tom truly spoke.

"Kevin," he began haltingly. "I realize that I haven't been the best father lately. Not since you came home from camp."

Kevin glanced up from shaking the crumbs off of the tablecloth. "I think you've been fine. I mean, you are my favorite dad, after all," he added teasingly.

Tom gave him a smile at the joke, but his voice remained serious. "I mean it, Kevin. With the Blossom investigation, I haven't been focused on anything but the case. I've been kind of a bear to be around." He shook his head, determination flowing through him. "But I'll be doing better now. I'm not off the case yet, but it's no longer our chief focus. I won't be snapping at you all the time anymore."

"It's okay," Kevin reassured him. "I know you've been under a lot of stress, Dad."

"No, it's not okay," Tom told him firmly. "I want to apologize to you, Kevin. I'm sorry for my behavior. It was wrong of me to treat you as I did."

For a long moment, Kevin didn't respond, instead concentrating on piling the leftovers back into the picnic basket. Finally, he turned to face Tom. "Dad, I never want you to feel like you have to apologize for the way you treat me."

"What?" Tom surged forward, reaching out and squeezing Kevin's upper arm. "Of course I should be apologizing. The way I acted was unacceptable—and anyone who said the things I did to you goddamn owes you an apology," he added forcefully.

"I—" Kevin swallowed several times, glancing away, and when he looked back at Tom, his eyes were suspiciously bright. "I don't want to fight, Dad. I just want the two of us to be okay. I want you to be okay, I want to be sure you're okay with me—" his voice cracked, and he abruptly broke off.

"Hey, hey, listen to me." Tom grabbed Kevin by the shoulders. "We are okay, both of us. I could never ask for a better son that you; I would never want anyone different. It's just that—" he paused, struggling to explain the issue without making excuses for his behavior "—sometimes I let the badge weigh on me more than I should. And that's my problem, not yours. It's never a reflection on you, Kevin, and I'm sorry if I ever make you feel like it is."

"Sometimes I feel like I'm not doing enough for our family," Kevin confessed. He blinked rapidly, but a few tears escaped his eyes and trailed down his face, only to be impatiently brushed away by his sleeve. "And I want to do more for us—I want to do more for you—but I don't know what."

"C'mere." Without waiting for Kevin to comply, Tom enveloped him in a warm hug, allowing the embrace to continue for several minutes. He could feel the warm sunlight playing on his back as he stood in the evening rays, holding his son. "You do plenty for me. You do plenty for us. If things aren't smooth sailing all of the time, that's not your fault. We just gotta do what we can with what we have, all right?"

Tom felt Kevin nod against him, even as warm tears continued to drip onto his shirt collar. "All right."