In the last few minutes before Amy was taken away for her spinal fusion, she asked to speak to each of her older two children alone. PJ went first; afterward, he paused just long enough to give his father a quick hug before loping away to Gabe's cubicle. Teddy was misty-eyed but determined after her turn.

"She wants to talk to you now, Daddy," she said.

He entered the room and smiled down at his wife. There was so much to say and yet so little. He settled on one last kiss before they wheeled her away for her surgery. "I love you, Ames," he murmured, his lips still touching hers.

"I love you, too. No matter what happens, Bob, the happiest day of my life was the day I became your wife, don't ever forget that."

"Never," he whispered.

"See you in few hours," she said. "I think my ride is getting impatient."

He smiled at her and stepped back out of the way. When she was gone, he allowed himself to sag backwards into the chair and buried his face in his hands. He had done everything in his power to appear calm and in control in front of his wife and kids, but now that he was alone he could feel the strength draining out of his body. He knew that he needed to go to the surgical waiting area, and down the hall to where Gabe was still waiting to be moved to his room; he had to call Amy's parents, and decide what to do with Charlie for the rest of the night. He had to—

He had to sit. Right here. Right now.

His wife. He tried to picture her on the day they met, or even their wedding day. He closed his eyes and tried to conjure up images of her face as she held each of their children in the delivery room.

But no matter how hard he tried, the image in his mind was of the way she looked waking up every morning, with her hair disheveled and her cheeks flushed with sleep. She had always been a restless sleeper, and often awoke with her pajamas in disarray, pillows marks in her skin, and puffy eyes that refused to open all the way. She would rub at her eyes and lick her dry lips, and he would promptly lose the ability to speak. Even after twenty years of familiarity, the woman could still take his breath away at the most unexpected moments

He tried to tell her once how beautiful she was in the morning, and she'd socked him in the gut.

"Daddy?"

Teddy stood in the doorway, twisting her hands and watching him carefully. "Is – is Mom on her way to surgery?"

"Yeah, Sweetheart. Are you holding up okay?"

She nodded. "Dad, Gabe's doctor wants to talk to you."

"Is something wrong?" he demanded, on his feet in an instant.

"She said it might be nothing. But he got really confused for a few minutes, and started talking to Spencer about flowers and angels. He seems okay now, but he was really spacey. He's just really, really grouchy."

But Gabe wasn't okay when they reached him. He was hunched over a basin, vomiting.

Two nurses helped him, while PJ flattened himself against the far wall, holding a crying Charlie and looking close to tears himself.

Bob went around to the other side of the hospital bed and put his hand on his son's back. "Easy, Gabe," he murmured. "Better out than in."

The little red-haired nurse gave him an approving glance and wiped the boy's face. "See, Gabe? Dad's right here. You're doing great," she said. The other woman silently traded the full basin for an empty one and left.

Gabe rinsed his mouth. " . . . don't want to be sick on my birthday," he grumbled.

"Birthday?" Bob echoed. "Do you think it's your birthday, Sport?"

Gabe glared at him. "No, I was sick on my birthday last year. Just leave me alone. Do. Do, love dew."

Just then Dr. Phillips rushed into the room. She hurried to her patient and quickly examined him. "Mr. Duncan, I've ordered an MRI for him, like we talked about. It takes about an hour. Is your son claustrophobic at all?"

"No. What's wrong with him?"

The doctor hesitated, her eyes flickering over to PJ, Teddy and Charlie, and then down at Gabe, who was muttering crossly about hearing the wind blow. "Gabriel is showing signs of a pretty serious head injury," she finally told them. "There are a lot of different things that could be causing this, some worse than others. We need the MRI to rule out some of them, but the faster I can get a diagnosis, the better his prognosis will be." She turned and rattled of a series of instructions to the nurse.

"Prognosis?" Bob's voice sounded unnaturally high. "What—what does all of that mean?"

"Violets, Dad!" Gabe cried, sitting up suddenly. He grabbed his father's shirt desperately. 'Don't you get it? No!" And with that, he threw up again.

"And I think it might be a good idea to sedate him for the test. But we need to get him down there. Now. "

*****GLC*****

Together, they decided that Bob would accompany Gabe to his MRI while Teddy and PJ would keep Charlie with them in the surgical waiting area. Bob tried to convince them that one or the other should take Charlie home and get some sleep, but neither was willing to budge.

Since there were few surgeries taking place this late at night, they had the small waiting room to themselves. PJ put Charlie down on an uncomfortable-looking couch and tucked his jacket around her before announcing that he needed coffee. "Want some?" He asked his sister. She nodded and watched him walk away in search of vending machines.

Teddy drew a deep, shuddering breath and let the tears go. She didn't remember ever feeling so alone or so scared. Or guilty for being selfish enough to be thinking about Spencer at a time like this. She felt so hurt by the fact that Spencer had simply vanished at some point. She knew she should be more concerned about her mother and brother than about her love life, but she just couldn't help it. His desertion in the face of this crisis was a slap in the face.

It was time to face the fact that Spencer Walsh was an only child, and he was just never going to be able to handle the chaos that was the Duncan family. Try as he might, he would never be up to the challenge of brothers and sisters, or of a big family like hers.

Just as the self-pity was really starting to sink in, Teddy felt a pair of soft, warm arms slide around her shoulders. "Oh, T!" A woman's voice sighed.

"Ivy?" Teddy gaped, open-mouthed at her best friend, Ivy Wentz. "What are you doing here?"

"Taking care of my girl," Ivy said. She kept her arm around Teddy's shoulders and sat next to her. "Tell Ivy all about it, Honey."

"B-but how -? I didn't call you. Who -?"

"Spencer came to house and told me everything," the other girl explained. She held out a grocery bag. "He thought you might need some things from your house, and he knew I would know where everything is. Mrs. Dabney let me in. I got Charlie's coat, your phone charger, a clean shirt for your dad – Spencer said Gabe puked on the one he was wearing, ewwww –and I thought Gabe might want this."

Tentatively, Teddy reached for the bedraggled stuffed monkey in her friend's hand. "Coco," she whispered. Even now, in middle school, Gabe slept with that stupid monkey every night. "You brought Coco to help him sleep."

Ivy squeezed her shoulders. "Spencer is in the parking garage, putting Charlie's car seat in my car so I can take her home with me. If that's okay. Mom is so excited about having a little kid around the house for a couple of days! Girl, she's already talking about Grandbabies, and I haven't even brought Charlie home yet!"

Teddy laughed out loud in spite of the situation. She could just imagine Mrs. Wentz's excitement at the thought of having a child to spoil for a few days. Charlie was never going to want to come home afterwards.

"Ivy, I-I don't know what to say," she stammered.

Ivy hugged her again. "Then don't say anything. Just let me help. Let all of us help. Mrs. Dabney is watching your house, I've got Charlie, and all you have to do is take care of your mom and Gabe. Spencer even made me call Emmet." PJ's best friend, of course.

"Teddy, don't you get it? Your family is our family too, me and Emmet. We've all grown up at your house. As far as I'm concerned, PJ, Gabe and Charlie are just as much my brothers and sister as they are yours. And Emmet feels the same way. We just want your mom and the little guy to be okay."

"So do I. Oh, Ivy . . . so do I."

****GLC****

Ivy is so fun to write! Everyone should have a best friend who knows eveything about them in a time of crisis. I put her in this story as a tribute to my friends Tosha, Holly and Deb - who knew me well enough to show up to ICU with chapstick, a Heath bar, and a Dr Who DVD.

I want to thank everyone again for the wonderful reviews, and I want to ask a favor of all of you. There are some ignorant people leaving personal messages and flames that have nothing to do with my story, and I'm asking all of you to PLEASE not engage them or respond to them on my behalf. I appreciate those of you who have tried to defend me, but I don't want anyone putting themselves in the line of fire on my behalf.