No, I haven't given up on this story. I just was trying to get into the mood to write it. You'll see why. Have some tissues handy.

Brennan felt annoyed when she saw Russ enter the house. Booth gave her an apologetic look behind him as he closed the door.

"Hey, Tempe," Russ smiled.

"Hi, Russ."

"How are you?"

"Fine."

"Booth said you were going through Dad's stuff?" Russ asked, ignoring her flat tone. Booth went to the fridge for a beer and hid out of sight. He knew when his wife was going to get into an argument.

"I am."

"I want to help."

"It's fine. I've got it under control."

"He was my Dad too, Temperance," Russ said quietly. Brennan stared at him, arms crossed.

"Where were you when he died?" she asked. "Where were you the last seven years of his life? You were never here, Russ."

"I had Amy and the girls," Russ started.

"You still could have come to see us," Brennan cut him off.

"You're right. I'm a schmuck. I'm sorry. I should have been here."

"Yes, you should have."

"I really want to help with the house. Let's call it my way of apologizing for my absence," Russ said. Brennan sighed. She knew he had full right to be there.

"Fine. Come with me tomorrow."

"Is it all right if I crash here tonight?"

"Whatever," Brennan said, gesturing to the couch where Booth had stopped mid sip of his beer.

"Right now?" Booth asked.

"You do what you want, but I'm going to bed," Brennan said. Russ and Booth watched her walk away.

"Well, that was pleasant," Russ commented.

"She's right," Booth said, getting up. "You should have visited more."

Russ hung his head as Booth passed. He knew he should have. It was why he felt so much guilt right now.

...

March 8, 1956

Rascal and I went into town to get some groceries for Beth. I've never seen a dog sit and wait patiently outside a building for someone the way Rascal waits for me. I don't even have to tie him up. Mr. Goodwin gave me a bone for him. I think that's the main reason Rascal comes with me. Everyone in town spoils him with treats. What puzzles me the most is that he can pack away so much food, but he doesn't gain any weight. He's my best bud, though.

May 1, 1956

May Day. I thought about Mom all day. I'm starting to forget what she looks like. If I concentrate really hard, I can see her eyes and her smile. I didn't get any photos because of the fire. I feel bad that out of them all, I miss Mom the most. My heart hurts.

June 20, 1956

Another summer. Time seems to fly on this farm. I'll be 16 in August. Randy has been teaching me how to drive around the farm. I have to say that I really like driving. Rascal does too. He sits in the box of the truck and lets his tongue fly every which way. How he doesn't get it covered in bugs I'll never know.

Ruth and I have been going on biking adventures. It's been a little hard lately to not get physical with her. Our attraction for each other is intense. She wants to wait, though, and I respect that. I'd do anything for her.

July 4, 1956

Beth's apple pie is settling well in my stomach right now. We are heading out to see fireworks soon. Ruth is going to join us. I just wanted to say that for once, I feel completely happy. Maybe that's wrong because of my tragic past, but I can't help but think Mom would want me to be happy, so I'm doing it for her.

...

Brennan woke up with the journal on her face. Groggy, she sat up. She realized she must have fallen asleep reading. She put it on the nightstand and looked over at the sleeping Booth. She smiled. When Max said he'd do anything for Ruth, she knew exactly what he meant. Then she remembered Russ was on her couch. Sighing, she got up. When she got to the kitchen, the kids were already there with Russ. They were whispering excitedly with each other.

"What's going on?" she asked, surprising them.

"Aw, no!" Christine cried. "You were supposed to stay in bed. We are making breakfast."

"Uncle Russ made eggs," Hank said proudly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Brennan apologized. "You can still take Daddy his, though."

"Okay!" Christine beamed. She took the plate full of eggs and toast towards their bedroom.

"Thanks for letting me stay," Russ said when they were alone.

"Be ready in an hour," Brennan replied, going to join her family for breakfast.

...

Russ looked around the house and felt sad. This was his father's last home. It seemed small.

"If there's anything you want, take it," Brennan instructed. She set to work with the rest. Russ looked over some of Max's shirts and selected a few sweaters he wanted to keep. They still smelled like Max.

"The girls want to come visit," Russ said.

"So bring them," Brennan responded.

"Are you going to be ice queen all day?" Russ challenged. Brennan set down the books she was holding and looked at him.

"I'm sorry. I just have a hard time doing this, and you being here isn't helping."

"Why? I said I was sorry for not being here more."

"You say that a lot."

"Oh, God, Tempe stop," Russ snapped. "I'm here now, okay? Let's just get along."

"Fine," Brennan nodded. She didn't really know why she was being so cold to her brother. She guessed it was because she couldn't be angry at her father anymore for dying on her, so he'd have to do.

...

August 13, 1956

I got my driver's license! I felt really badass driving around with Rascal hanging out the window. Randy didn't appreciate the ball of fur in his lap the whole way home I don't think. I'm a little worried about Randy lately. He hasn't been looking well. Beth has taken him to the doctor recently, but he keeps saying he's fine.

"Old age," he joked. "It gets everyone eventually."

I know he's older, but I still worry.

Ruth came to celebrate my birthday. Beth made her famous chocolate cake. I had to rescue it from Rascal, who takes any chance he can get to eating human food. He's a crafty pup. I always make sure he doesn't have easy access, but he's up on that table without batting an eye, so I'm not sure how he does it.

Sixteen. I feel like I'm becoming a man. Mom would have been so proud to have been here today. God I miss her.

November 4, 1956

Winter is setting in. I'm not ready for the snow. It feels like it lasts forever. The worst part is the cold. I hate being cold.

November 30, 1956

The best day ever today. Randy, Beth, and I had a huge snowball fight. It started between them, but I got involved, which turned it into an all out war. Rascal tried to help by running interference, and he knocked Randy over in his haste. Beth and I took this opportunity to slam him with snow. He was laughing and trying to get up, but we kept him down. Eventually he begged for a truce, so we gave it to him. Beth got us warmed up with hot chocolate after. I keep feeling as though I'm in a dream. This is my family now, and I don't know what I'd do without them.

December 25, 1956

Another lovely Christmas. The three of us and Rascal had our supper and then played cards by the fire. Ruth was away with her family, so I didn't get to see her. She did call, though. Beth teases me about when I'm going to ask her to marry me. I'm only sixteen! She said in her day it was the prime time to wed. I think I still have some time left.

March 2, 1957

I haven't written in a while because I don't know what to say. Everything got shattered early January. I don't think our lives will ever be the same.

Randy's dead.

March 3, 1957

I couldn't finish yesterday. It hurt so much. I'll try to get it down as best as I can.

I went out to help with the cows when I noticed they were distressed. I hurried into the barn, and I found Randy face down on the ground. I rolled him over, but he wasn't breathing. He was cold. I didn't know how long he had been in there since I had just gotten home from school. I ran to get Beth, who screamed when she saw him. My heart broke as she fell to her knees, clutching him to her chest and crying "no" over and over again. The police came with the medics. They took him away. They later said he had had a heart attack. Beth knew he wasn't well, which was why she had gone healthy with her cooking since the summer, but none of us expected this.

I don't know what we're going to do. Beth and I kind of pass each other like ghosts in the halls. I don't know what to say to her to make her feel better, and she can barely talk. I am still in shock, I think. Randy is dead. I can't believe it. All I keep thinking of is the last thing he said to me. It was the morning before he died.

"Max," he said. "You're a good son. I've never been more proud of anyone in my life. I think you'll do great things."

"Why do you sound like you're dying?" I had joked, not having a clue.

"When you're my age, you never know when God's going to come for you," Randy replied. "I just wanted to tell you that."

"Are you sick?" I asked.

"I haven't been feeling the best, but with Beth's cooking, I think I'll get better," he smiled. I felt worried, but I had no idea I'd never talk to him again.

What the hell are we going to do?

...

Brennan was openly crying when she closed the book. It wasn't fair that her father had Randy ripped away from him like that. Why did her father have such rotten luck?

"What's wrong?" Booth asked, coming into the bedroom and seeing her crying.

"Randy died," she answered.

"Oh," Booth said. He felt bad for Max. It was so unfair.

"I know he said he had no family. I just assumed they died of old age."

"These things happen, Bones," Booth said, pulling her into his arms.

"I know I lost my parents when I was 15 and never knew what happened to them until later, but I can't imagine the repeated trauma of this that he went through. To get close to people only to lose them over and over again."

"In my opinion, he's with them all again," Booth said. "I know you have different beliefs, but I truly believe he's with them right now."

"I'd like to think that," Brennan sniffed, wiping her eyes. "For his sake."

Booth continued to hold his wife and stroke her hair. He felt dread for what the journals were going to keep bringing to her.

Damn that was hard. Anyway, if you have time to leave a review, I'd appreciate it.