Mom, Addison and I go back downstairs. Outside, everyone looks at us expectantly.

"How is she?" Dad asks first.

"She seems great. Healthy," Mom smiles, relief painted on her face.

"She feels terrible," Addison says, sitting next to Sam.

"I can imagine," Violet nods.

"Well," Mom says, clasping her hands. "She's here now. She's clean-64 days-and she's gonna want to move forward. So let's all just...help her."

When Amelia comes outside half an hour later, showered and changed, she seems more relaxed but still wary of everyone, as though she's afraid she's going to be raked over the coals. But it doesn't come. Everyone's either forgiven her, or are on their way there. And no one is interested in holding a grudge. We're all just glad she's sober.

Maggie makes dinner; a huge genuine Southern supper, complete with fried chicken, biscuits, gravy, grits, okra...

"Jesus. You weren't kidding, Kati," Amelia says after her first bite of chicken.

"We don't kid about Maggie's chicken," I reply straight-faced.

Everyone chuckles and Maggie winks as she refills my lemonade.

Everyone chats as we eat.

"So, Amelia," Pete says after a few minutes. "When are you coming back to work?"

It gets quiet as we all wait for her answer, and Amelia stares, stunned.

"Um," she begins, stumbling over what to say. "I didn't..."

"What? Think you could come back?" Violet asks.

"Well..."

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course you can come back. Your office is waitin', and besides...we're family," Mom replies matter-of-factly.

Amelia blushes slightly and a small grateful smile relieves her worried face.

After another minute of quiet, Amelia clears her throat.

"So, Kati," she grins. "Tell me about this bottle of bourbon."


The next couple of days we fill up with delicious food, horseback rides, swimming and catching Amelia up on what's happened. There are clients she's missed out on and other people's clients she's curious about. There's something so comforting about having everyone together (except Sheldon, who couldn't make it) and catching up.

Maggie leads the cooking of a huge, amazing Thanksgiving dinner, and we manage to fit everyone at the big dining room table.

After we're all seated, Amelia stands up.

"I just want to thank everyone for...for everything you've done. For seeing me falling down that hole and doing everything you could to pull me out. I'm just so grateful, and I...well, thank you. All of you," she finishes, her eyes glassy.

Touched, everyone smiles at Amelia and she sits down.

"Well," Dad says, picking up utensils. "Let's carve this bird!"


Two cabs arrive the next morning to pick everybody up. Goodbyes are warm, but I don't feel like I have to say goodbye for that long. Once everyone's gone and Mom settles onto the porch swing to read, I sit beside her and cross my legs.

"Mom," I start, rubbing the irritated skin of my hand where my cast was, only days ago.

"Mmhmm," she mumbles.

"I think..." I start, examining a spot where the bone is slightly more raised than before. A weird break. "Can we go home?"

She looks up. "California?"

I nod.

She considers me, her eyes seeing right into me. "Is that what you want?"

"Yes," I reply. "And...what I need. I think. I mean, I don't think coming here was running from anything. I'm glad we're here and I think...it helped."

"So do I, darlin'. You seem more yourself than you have in...a long time."

She pushes a lock of hair behind my ear.

"I just think I'm ready to go home. Maybe not...to school. I mean, I like doing it at my own pace."

She listens.

"I just want to be at home. I want my bed, my stuff...my friends."

She smiles. "Your daddy mentioned it. So if you're ready, then we'll go."

I smile; after a second I nod. "I'm ready."


It's faster than I thought it would happen. The next morning we're all packed and ready to go.

Maggie squeezes me tightly. "You come back and see me soon, you hear?"

I smile and she kisses my cheek, hugging me tightly again.

I hug Jorge and he promises to take extra-special care of Bluegrass.

"Thanks, Jorge," I smile. "Thanks for taking such good care of her."

"Ah, it's no worries, Miss Kati. Bluegrass is my favorite, too," he winks and heads back to the stables.

"We've got everything?" Dad asks again.

"Triple-checked the place last night, honey. If anything's left behind, it's good and hidden somewhere," Mom replies.

She hugs Maggie; lets her fuss over her and kiss her cheek, like she's 13 again.

"Next time ya'll come back, don't be lookin' so skinny. Nearly gave me grey hairs, worryin' about tryin' to feed ya'll enough."

"Just good genes," Mom smiles.

Maggie smiles, touches Mom's face, and then hugs Dad.

"I'll try not to look so skinny, too," he promises.

"Child, please. You might have to let out them pants, the amount of chicken I've been feedin' you."

She chuckles and kisses his cheek.

"You make sure you let me know ya'll get home safe," she tells Mom.

"We will, Maggie," she promises.

Maggie nods.

I help Nigel into the car and crawl in after him. With one last wave and smile at Maggie, we drive away.

The drive to Alabama felt timeless. Like I never knew where we were, or what time it was, but suddenly, we were there.

The drive home to California is different. I'm aware enough to take in my surroundings, and recognize places and landmarks I haven't seen since I was 11; the last time we made the drive instead of flying. It's refreshing and beautiful. Having Nigel asleep on my lap and the window down is relaxing, and I just sit there and think about the last 10 months. A year ago, what would I have said if someone told me that within 12 months, Jamie would be dead, Silas would have tried to...well. Y'know. I wouldn't have believed it. I also wouldn't have believed that I'd be home-schooled. I've always loved school. Part of me misses it, but the bigger part of me feels like I have to leave Chadwick behind. I just have to. First Jamie, and then Silas, and now...I couldn't go back to what it used to be. Regardless of Axel and Max and everyone still being there...I could never feel the same there. Besides, it's exciting knowing that I'll be finished high school months earlier than expected. It gives me extra time to prepare for Berkeley. It gives me extra time to get past everything. Including what's coming up, in a matter of weeks.

When we pull into the driveway, a couple days later, the porch light is on.

"Who's here?" I ask, confused.

"Violet probably just stopped by the freshen the place up. She was stopping in to water plants and take in the mail," Dad replies.

I open the car door and step out, turning to help an excited Nigel get down from the seat. He hurries around the lawn, smelling everything in front of him.

Already it feels good to be home. I grab my bag, my guitar and a duffel bag and head towards the front door. Mom's already there, unlocking the door. She smiles at me as she pushes it open.

"Home," she says.

I smile and go inside when she pushes open the door.

Violet was definitely here. She's left some windows open, the light above the island is on, and the island itself has a giant vase of Easter lilies and white hibiscus; mine and Mom's favorites.

Nigel noses around, smelling his house. He sniffs his bed, to see if someone else has been in it, and moves on to sniff at some of the toys we left behind.

Dad comes in the front door like a pack horse, bags and bags in his arms. He dumps them in the foyer and heads back outside.

"One more load," he says.

I head for the stairs, deeply breathing in the familiar smell of home. Vanilla, fresh laundry...and right now, Violet's flowers. At the top of the stairs, I turn right. My door is open but I can't see much. It's around 11:00 pm and the only light is coming from downstairs in the kitchen.

I flick on the light and my purple walls appear, deep and vibrant. I smile just seeing my familiar room. The bay windows, the shoes and bags I left sitting around, my bed. Nigel barrels up the stairs, pushes past me, and sniffs the room.

"Happy to be home, buddy?" I grin.

Happily, he looks up at me, panting, before continuing his inspection of my room.

I dump my bags on my bed and set my guitar case against the wall. Out of habit, I go and move my computer mouse. But the screen doesn't light up. Obviously, I think to myself. Dad shut everything off when we left.

I reach around the monitor and turn on the computer.

I look around and feel so much better. I sigh and flop down onto the bed. Nigel jumps up beside me.

"Interesting," I say to him. "I thought you needed help to get up here?"

He smiles, panting, and I can't help but smile back.

"Let's go downstairs," I tell him, and he races ahead of me

He nearly takes out Mom's legs on his way to the stairs.

"Good lord," she says, staring as he barrels down the stairs. "Boy sure chooses his moments to be fast."

I laugh and go downstairs, where Dad is attempting to turn himself into a pack horse.

"Dad," I laugh. "Here."

I slide two of my bags down his arm.

"I could do it," he tells me. "I could carry every bag, plus you and your mother. No problem."

"And I don't doubt that," I reply.

I smile and head for the stairs as he follows.

"This California air is like crack for Nigel," he says, as Nigel hurries past us, causing Dad to fall against the wall.

"He's very excited," I agree. "Didn't even need a hand to get on the bed."

"What a guy," Dad laughs.

I dump my bags in my room and Dad goes to drop his and Mom's in their room. He comes back with one bag.

"You had five bags, your mother had four...I had one. One bag," he stares, holding out the TNA bag.

"But you're so good at carrying them," I say.

He rolls his eyes sarcastically, smiling.

"Hungry? I could eat the entire menu at Bulan Thai right now."

"Ohh," I agree. "Will you please order me some Pad Kee Mao? I need to reestablish our friendship, it's been so long."

He kisses my forehead and heads back to his room.

"Honey? You want Bulan Thai?" he calls.

"I want the entire menu!" Mom calls back from their closet.

He turns and grins at me.

I open each bag and dump it's contents on my bed. Nigel sniffs at the bag as I drop each one on the floor, but smelling like the exact place he's been for the past couple months, he ignores them and continues to sniff around the carpet and heads for the closet.

I'm in the middle of making piles when Mom comes in, sighing and tying her hair back, having just showered and changed into the baggiest sweats she could find.

"What do you got going on in here?" she stares at the bed.

"Clean, dirty," I point to opposites of the bed. "Clean pants, clean shirts, clean whatever else. Dirty everything, divided into colors, whites and dry-clean only."

"Your sense of organization is 100% King," she grins. She reaches over and grabs the pile of dry-clean only.

"I'll add this to the pile we've got goin'," she replies, and goes to drop it in her room.

She comes back with her laundry baskets and starts loading my stuff into them.

"We've got like, 17 loads of laundry here," I stare.

"At least," she agrees.

I stuff the rest of the dirty clothes in my own laundry basket and follow her downstairs, dropping the baskets in the laundry room.

Back upstairs, I start putting the clean stuff away. By the time I'm almost finished, Dad calls up the stairs that the food is here.

"Two minutes," I reply. Because I can't stand leaving all of this mess here, when I know I'm just going to want to go right to bed when I get back here. I put away all of the clean clothes and then head downstairs, where Dad is browsing through PVR'd episodes of Saturday Night Live and Mom is grabbing bottles of water and plates from the kitchen.

Sinking in the couch is the greatest feeling I've all day.


The next morning it takes me a second until I remember that I'm at home-not in Alabama. It's bright outside and I can hear Mom and Dad downstairs. I look over and see that Nigel is still here, loyally snuggled into my legs. I check my alarm clock and see that it's almost noon.

"Holy shit," I say groggily. Nigel wakes up and looks around, yawning. "Buddy, we slept for almost 12 hours."

He yawns again and then looks at me tiredly.

Stiff from lying so still for so long, I slowly get up and stretch. Nigel follows suit, stretching and groaning as he stands up. I look out my window, down into the backyard, and see Mom and Dad at the patio table, paperwork and coffee surrounding them.

I take a shower, brush my teeth and change into a loose t-shirt and some capri sweats. I grab a glass of orange juice from the fridge. Looks like Violet restocked that, too.

Nigel hurries outside when I slide open the patio doors, and Mom and Dad look up.

"Decided to join the land of the livin'?" Mom grins.

"Twelve hours," I raise my eyebrows. "Jeez."

"You were exhausted, baby. Long few days," she replies, running a hand over my hair as I sit down.

"Long year," Dad replies, getting up. He kisses my forehead and heads inside to fill his coffee cup. "You hungry, honey?"

"Not yet," I reply. "Thanks, though."

"That's about as soundly as you've slept in ages," Mom says, leaning back in her chair.

I see the paperwork on the table is all patient files. I smile at her, because she's giving me the look of Worried Mother.

"Yeah," I nod. "It was good."

Her forehead smoothes out a little. "Good," she smiles.

"What are you working on?" I ask, setting down the glass of juice.

"Oh, just figuring out where I'm at with any patients who are still mine, but have been seeing another doctor at the practice or elsewhere. Trying to decipher some of this chicken scratch on their files."

I lean forward. She's right. I couldn't read the one file if someone paid me.

"When were you thinking of starting your second-semester work?" she asks, scribbling something on a file.

"Um," I think. "Tomorrow? I was going to go see Axel today."

"I thought you'd want more of a break, sugar. Semesters at school get a good two weeks," she looks at me.

I shrug. "It doesn't really matter when I'm doing it at home. I can do an exam at 9 am or 10:30 at night."

"I suppose," she replies. "Why don't you take a few days at least? Go visit your friends, have some fun, and we'll start on Tuesday."

"Okay," I shrug. "Is it going to be hard? Now that you'll be back at work?"

"Nah," she waves a hand. "I can just drag you into the office with me and make you work there. Under the watchful eye of several doctors."

She smiles and winks. I shake my head, smiling.

Dad reappears with fresh coffee and a plate of fruit.

"Hungry now?" he grins.

"Mm. Yep," I reply.

After breakfast I go get dressed and put on a bit of makeup.

"You heading out, baby girl?" Mom calls.

"Yeah, Axel should be getting out for lunch in 20 minutes. I'm just going to wait in the parking lot."

She pokes her head in my room. "You should go say hi to your friends, darlin'. He isn't there. He won't be anywhere."

We both know who "he" is.

"I know," I smile, but I don't want to walk up to a crowd on school grounds. It will only draw stares.

She comes in and kisses my cheek. "Drive safe. Text me later."

"I will," I reply.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," I reply, and head down the stairs.