After working an eight hour shift, Sig came home through the garage door only to find several jumbo-size bags of dog food, brand new squeaky toys and more boxes of milk bones than there was space for in the kitchen pantry. His jaw painfully hurting, exhausted from another day of work on the sweltering docks and bills left on the kitchen table, the sight of the dog 'stuff' sent him over the edge.

In an instant, Sig was ready to chew out Norman's ass for the frivolous expenditures on a dog they weren't even sure was staying with them. The blond was so angry, he didn't care if Edgar overheard, or was even party to, the heated discussion; a good indication of how irritated he was that he'd overlook Edgar's feelings on the subject.

Sig looked around the kitchen, listening for sounds of life coming from somewhere in the house. This time, the sounds of his brothers' voices were coming from outside the house.

The terrible rain storm had finally broken, leaving Seattle with a warm summer day filled with sun, an ocean breeze and puffy white clouds overhead. So it was no surprise to Sig that his brothers were clearly taking advantage of the beautiful day.

Yet, Sig was feeling anything less than sunny. The oldest brother made a final glance around at the expensive purchases and took two steps towards the backdoor before stopping in front of the kitchen window.

Norman, Edgar and the dog were in the yard playing catch…or at least the boys were trying to teach Daisy how to play catch. Daisy more or less wanted to play keep-away, not really understanding the concept of 'retriever' as more than a dog that retrieves things for herself.

Sig watched the scene for a minute, soaking in the look of pure happiness on his youngest brother's face as he chased the dog around the yard. Edgar was laughing along with Norman and the two of them looked like they were having fun for the first time in months. Daisy looked like she was having fun as well, refusing to give up the tennis ball in her mouth without protest. When was the last time I heard both my brothers laughing together like this? Has it been that long?

The sight was comical and heartwarming and Sig's initial irritation at Norman's spending faded to mild annoyance with the whole situation.

The oldest brother backtracked his steps, taking advantage of his brothers' distraction and picked up the kitchen phone. As much as he didn't want to, would have given anything not to, Sig used the phone book and contacted the local newspaper. He placed an ad in the paper about the 'found' dog with a description of the animal. Leaving the home number as the contact information, Sig hung up and made his next call.

Contacting the local pound, he reported finding a stray dog and asked if anyone had called recently or come looking for a missing dog fitting Daisy's description. He couldn't really explain why he felt a small flicker of relief when the worker told him no one had contacted them regarding a lost dog like that in recent months. Again, he left the home number with the pound in the event someone called looking for the dog.

Feeling very much like the bad guy, Sig hung up the phone with a sigh. I know someone has to do it, I just wish it was someone else. Man, how many times have I thought that over the past few weeks? It's become my personal mantra. Still, trying to find the dog's owner is the right thing to do and it's the right example to set.

And, if she has to leave, the sooner the better; the last thing I want is to leave for Alaska worried the whole time I'm gone that someone's finally going to realize they want their dog back. Edgar's not gonna handle my leaving well…Jesus that's an understatement…but having to give the dog back while I'm gone would be the nail in the coffin for him…Oh, bad choice of words, all things considered a few nights ago the kid almost got shot.

The thought of his youngest brother's near death experience prompted Sig to get his sullen, miserable ass out of the kitchen and go join his family in the yard for some serious playtime. I almost lost that kid brother of mine…not once, not twice but three times so far this summer: once on an out-of-control motor bike, once to a brutal beating for something he didn't do and once to a bullet.

And I almost lost the other one to an infected appendix. And what have I learned from these experiences – to make the most of the time I have with the people I love because you never know what's around the next corner. Mom's death should have taught me that, instead I had to keep getting the lesson handed to me over and over before it sunk in.


Seeing their oldest brother coming out of the back door and down the steps, both Norman and Edgar stopped in mid-play. Daisy looked confused, wondering why playtime abruptly ended.

"Did anyone think about dinner?" Sig asked, pretending to sound gruff. He approached the yard with lengthy strides of his long legs, unbuttoning his work shirt and stripping down to his white cotton t-shirt.

Norman huffed, sitting his large frame down on the picnic table "Of course we did. I've been thinking about food for the past hour."

"And in all this thinking," Sig asked, "Did you actually end up doing something about it?" He casually leaned over and pretended to check the garden hose for mysterious leaks.

"Norman made anti-pasta and fresh salad," Edgar said softly, coming to his older brother's defense, "It's in the fridge. We were waiting for you." The shaggy-haired teen made his way over to Norman, ready to sit down next to him on the table.

Daisy looked back and forth between the two oldest brothers, dropping the gooey tennis ball out of her mouth and expecting a fight to break out. She could feel the tension in the air. Something's coming…something bad?

"I'm glad you waited," Sig said slowly, "Cause now I can do this…" With lightning quick speed, he turned on the hose and reached for the nozzle, pointing it in Norman's direction.

Norman knew better than to fall for this trick. With equally quick speed, he reached out and grabbed his skinny younger brother. Placing Edgar directly in front of him as a human shield, Norman laughed and screamed, "Don't, he can't get his hands wet."

Sig had to pause, the nozzle held firmly in his hand and his finger on the trigger. "Get out of the way, Edgar," he laughed with a wide smile, "Norman needs a bath. I can smell him from here."

"I do not," Norman whined defensively, peaking around his little brother's shoulder to glare at Sig, "You stink from working at the docks, jerk. You're the one that needs a bath."

Norman's hands on both of his arms and holding him in place, Edgar stared at his oldest brother. Sig was too busy trying to find a way to blast Norman with the hose to notice the kid's eyes had gone blank and devoid of any emotion.

What should have been a fun game, a game they had played a hundred times as children, warped Edgar to a different time and place. There was someone standing before him, holding something that looked like a gun and it was pointed in his direction. It didn't matter that the someone holding the 'trigger' was one of the people that loved him most in the world. All Edgar could see was those yellowish-green, cat-like eyes driving a hole in his heart with utter hatred.

"NOOOO!" Edgar closed his eyes to block out the sight and screamed with such intensity that Sig stopped breathing. The young teenager pulled away from Norman with a strength that shocked and surprised the middle brother, breaking free of his tight grip with remarkable ease.

Edgar panicked, seeking refuge in the first available location and flinging himself under the picnic table before either of his brothers had a chance to react. He huddled himself under the table, pulling his knees up to his chest and burying his face in his bent legs. In his mind, he was no longer in the safety of his backyard; he was at the Shack, hiding underneath a poker table and listening for the sounds of gunshots to ring out above him.

Sig and Norman were left staring at each other, both stone-faced and stunned by their youngest brother's extreme and unexpected overreaction.

Still holding the hose and pointing it at Norman's chest, Sig dropped his gaze and glared at the nozzle in his right hand. He immediately recognized that it looked like he was holding a gun, minus the lime green coloring of the plastic and the grass-green hose attached to the bottom of it.

Although he was not the genius Norman was, it didn't take Sig more than a few seconds to figure out what just went wrong. I just wanted to play…I just wanted to have fun for a while with my brothers. I didn't mean to terrify my kid brother and make him relive traumatic events. The same fucking thing happened in the bathroom the day after his hands were beaten. He freaked out about the sound of the belt jingling. Now, he's freaking out about a garden hose. What's next? He can't go on like this…we can't go on like this

Norman took those few seconds to stare at the barrel of a gun-like object being directed at his chest and closed his eyes, imaging how he would feel if a real gun was being pointed at him. Although it was just his imagination, Norman felt a true sense of dread and panic, the need to fight or flee rising up instantaneously and he identified with Edgar's overreaction. Shit, I'd be hiding under the table, too, if that was a real gun.

While the older boys were trying to make sense of the strange turn of events, Daisy reacted without hesitation. She didn't need to figure out the whys and what-ifs, as those were human obstacles. She just knew that her 'boy' was in distress so she plunged right in, assisting the only way she knew how.

Running under the table, she came to a stop and sat down next to Edgar, trying to wiggle her muzzle in between his knees and head. Let me kiss you. I will lick your face and you'll feel better, promise. Just look up. I'm right here. I'd never let anything hurt you.

Ultimately, Sig threw the hose from his hand and let it fall to the grass with a muted thud. Powerwalking over to the picnic table, he glanced at Norman before kneeling down at the end of the pressure-treated wood and adding grass stains to the oil and paint on his work pants.

Norman glanced back at him. The two older brothers non-verbally communicated loads of understanding and knowledge in that one single look between them: You understand what's going on here? Yes, do you? Yes. I get it - I understand how scared he was then and why he's so scared now. I need your help. You never have to ask.

Hopping off the table, Norman joined Sig on the ground, kneeling next to his brother. They both looked into the darkness created by the shadow of the table and could make out a frightened kid and a protective dog mashed together like a sandwich. Edgar was rocking back and forth slightly, his eyes still pressed against his knees to block out the bad memories. Daisy had given up on trying to kiss the boy's face and had to be satisfied with resting her chin on his shoulder and pressing her body next to his.

The presence of the dog was what brought Edgar back to reality. The night of the gun fight there had been no dogs at the Shack. Therefore, the presence of one now was an anchor to the present moment. The kid was still scared, more so because of his reaction to an innocuous event than being reminded of what almost happened to him. Along with the fear, he was humiliated to find himself hiding under a table in his own back yard with his older, tougher brothers looking on.

"I'm…" Sig started gently, having to pause to clear his throat. "I'm so sorry," he whispered to the figure huddled under the table, "I just wanted…"

Taking full responsibility, Norman cut his older brother off. "It's my fault," he said in a voice that sounded stronger than he really felt, "I shouldn't have grabbed you like that. I…I forgot…what you've been through…I wasn't thinking."

The older brothers gave Edgar a few moments to respond or at least acknowledge them in some way. Instead, all they got was the top of Edgar's buried head and a few whimpers coming from both parties under the table.

Another look passed between Norman and Sig, this one much more desperate than the first.

The middle brother took the lead on the situation and tried his usual tactic. "But, Christ, little bro, have you been working out or something? Where the hell did that burst of strength come from? I can't ever remember you being able to get away from me without resorting to fighting dirty, like getting Sig to help you or threatening to pull my ear."

Sig couldn't contain a soft chuckle, "I'm so glad I taught you that trick, Edgar. As a little kid, it was your only method of escape from the He-Man we call our brother."

"Someday, Edgar," Norman ignored Sig, "I'll return the favor and tell you about Sig's weaknesses. Would you like that?" The muscular seventeen-year-old looked at his older brother out of the corner of his eye. Rightly so, Sig seemed confused. He had no weaknesses that he knew of so how could Norman possibly know about something that didn't exist.

Sig opened his mouth to argue over the blatant lie when Norman slapped him lightly on the arm without looking in his direction. Finally getting the idea of the joke, the blond decided to play along. "Oh please," he said in a high pitched voice, at least as high as he could force his deep voice to go, "Don't tell the kid that I'm…" he struggled to come up with something believable but it's difficult to fake things with someone that knows your entire life story…most of it, anyway.

Norman smiled wickedly, watching Sig struggle for a funny comeback. Deciding he'd floor his older brother with the truth, he casually finished Sig's statement. "…afraid of clowns."

Literally bowled over, Sig slipped off his knees and onto his backside in the plush green grass. Slowly, just like in a movie, he turned and glared at Norman with piercing blue eyes that were filled with disbelief. HOW THE HELL DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT? I'VE NEVER TOLD A SOUL, NOT EVEN MOM.

Despite the serious situation, Norman's insides were rolling with laughter. The revenge was so sweet he could taste it. You think I don't remember that circus Mom took us to when we were very little? I remember you hiding underneath the bleachers when Mom wasn't looking. You were as white as the painted clown trying to splash you with that empty bucket. I've held onto this precious information for over TEN years – who ever said revenge is a dish best served cold was damn right.

"Sooo," Norman spoke with a sly voice, "Just dress up like a clown and Sig will leave you alone. The knowledge has some advantages, like if you ever get in big trouble and got a lickin' coming your way, you just pull out your clown suit and you're golden. You could avoid a sore backside for days…maybe even weeks, if you play your cards right."

As the 'play your cards right' analysis came up, Sig's eyes went from disbelief to an incredulous narrowing of his eyelids. He smacked his younger brother on the leg for the unintentional and eye-roll-worthy pun.

Norman wondered why he just got smacked when the meaning behind the pun hit him a second later. Well, that was pretty stupid. Kid's down here hiding because of playing his cards right…or wrong, depending on how you look at it. Apologetically he looked at his blond brother, momentarily forgetting his triumph about Sig's clown-phobia before remembering its official name.

"Coulrophobia," Norman announced proudly, "That's what it's called. Sig has Coulrophobia. I looked it up once in the high school's library."

"No doubt so you could use it against me one day, when the time was just right," Sig groused, "But let's not forget there are other people in this family with a laundry list of phobias. You want to talk about what those are called?"

"Ahh, no," Norman said sheepishly.

Sig peered at the boy huddled under the table. Edgar still hadn't acknowledged them or the dog, refusing to even lift his head or make eye contact. As far as Norman and Sig could tell, Edgar hadn't even laughed or shrugged at their playful bantering, all done for his benefit.

"Hey Edgar," Sig asked his baby brother, "What do you call it when someone's afraid of small spaces, being trapped, heights AND spiders?"

Holding their breath, both older brothers waited for some kind of answer…anything…a witty retort or even a defensive statement on Norman's behalf. Yet, they got nothing. The kid continued to shake, rocking back and forth and ignoring the persistent dog next to him.

I'll do it. Why not? Norman had set himself up to be teased; he figured he might as well pull the trigger. "Ab-Norm-ALL." Both older brothers winced and rolled their eyes at the pathetic zinger. All they needed was a 'ba-dum-dum-dum' and long cane coming from stage right.

Regardless of the comic routine, Edgar remained frozen in place and still hadn't even glanced at his brothers' handsome faces and concerned looks aimed at him from the table's edge.

Sig and Norman were beyond being worried at this point. Sure, the both of them could easily move the table away and expose their youngest brother to the rest of the world. But the fear that the boy might panic even further stopped the notion of such an aggressive move.

"Ed," Norman lowered his voice and tone, speaking gently, "Look at us, will ya?" For the first time, a hint of desperation came out with the question.

Still nothing.

Norman anxiously glanced over at Sig. He was surprised to find his oldest brother's jaw muscles flexed tightly, like the tallest Hansen was debating over an idea. Then, he watched Sig square up his shoulders, raising himself up to his full height, at least as much as he could on his knees.

In a soft but stern voice full of authority, Sig said, "Edgar, your brother asked you to do something. Do not be rude and ignore him. Answer him…NOW!"

Pulling back, Norman glared at Sig and wondered if his oldest brother was about to lose his famous temper. The blond voice was authoritative and commanding and Norman was flabbergasted that Sig was taking this road. Before he had a chance to worry about a petrified little brother on one hand and a furious, screaming brother on the other, Sig slumped down and lost his 'in-charge' look.

The oldest brother glanced at Norman as if to say: I have to try something.

And the something worked. Something about that tone and those stern words prompted Edgar to finally look up and over his knees at his big brothers. Daisy was thrilled to finally have access to the boy's face and went about licking Edgar's left cheek like he had forgotten to wipe off a dab of peanut butter from the corner of his mouth.

"I'm sorry," Edgar whispered hoarsely, "I don't know what happened." The boy's bottom lip started quivering as he emotionally moved passed panic, fear and humiliation to just plain confusion and embarrassment. He reached out and wrapped an arm around the dog, petting her soft fur and effectively stopping the dog bath he was receiving. "It was like I was back there…and you weren't you…and someone was…gonna hurt me. I'm sorry for acting like a…"

"Don't be sorry," Sig smiled fully, relief washing over him now that he felt he had his littlest brother back with him. For a few brief but tense minutes, it was like Edgar had mentally left them. "Don't ever be sorry."

"Come out, kid," Norman said encouragingly, "Sig can wield a paddle but he couldn't hit the side of a barn with that hose. You're all right but I'm starving. Dinner's waiting for all of us now."

"Then we can take Dai…the dog…for a walk," Sig slipped and came close to calling the mutt by her new name.

"I'm grounded," Edgar reminded Sig without a hint of attitude or resentment.

Sig rolled his eyes, feeling like Edgar was taking this grounding to heart and willing to chain himself to the house to prove to his oldest brother that he could be trusted again. "We're all going. You go where we go."

"Yeah," Norman held out his hand under the table, casually offering it to Edgar, "And I'm hungry so we ALL have to go to the kitchen. You know," he chirped to Sig, "Edgar told me about this new rule this morning. I kinda like it. It's like I have a permanent assistant at the hardware store.

"God knows you need all the help you can get, Ab-Norm-ALL," Sig said as he offered his hand out as well.

Norman got his back up, "Hey, that was a onetime thing. NO MORE Now!"

Very lightly, Edgar took both offered hands and scooted his backside along the grass until he was free from the safety of the picnic table. Daisy pranced her way out, running over and picking up the tennis ball with a hearty wagging of her long tail.

Once out, Norman and Sig stood their little brother up by his armpits and set him on his feet. Holding onto Edgar's arm, Sig used his free hand and brushed the grass clippings off the seat of his brother's jeans, adding a love tap for good measure and then pulling the kid into a tight, strong embrace.

Edgar hugged him back, burying his face into his brother's bare shoulder and feeling the single, one-inch strip of fabric from Sig's t-shirt on his cheek.

Norman reached out and stroked the back of Edgar's hair, running his hand over the kid's neck and leaving it on his thin shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

The three of them didn't need to say anything. They each knew what happened, although Edgar was a little slow in admitting it to himself. They just didn't know how to prevent it from happening again…and that scared the three of them more than any personal phobias ever could.


Disappointed the game of fetch ended so suddenly, Daisy followed the boys back into the house. She was walking very cautiously, trailing behind them and hoping they wouldn't turn around, see her and banish her back to the yard. Instead, she ended up back in the house with fresh bowls of kibble and water, a few ice cubes included in the water bowl. From her vantage point, she couldn't tell which of the boys gave her the ice cubes but she found chasing the melting ice as it slid around the linoleum kitchen floor a terrific new game to play.

Dinner was a mundane affair, the usual discussions took place and everyone helped clean up in their own way. A long walk, a happy dog and a Saturday night baseball game on the TV later, Edgar was sent up to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. Sig relented and allowed the dog to follow him, figuring he'd come and get the dog out of Edgar's room after he fell asleep.

Finally, Sig would have a chance to talk to Norman alone. He'd been too annoyed with him the night before to discuss anything and now there were bigger issues to go over. To his frustration, he had to wait until Norman got off the phone with Amanda. Norman had been on the kitchen phone with his girlfriend for the last hour, ignoring the baseball game and his brothers.

As he and Edgar had watched the game, Sig tried not to listen in but he couldn't help but overhear some bits and pieces of the conversation. Some of these snippets sounded like there was a plan being concocted for tomorrow evening.

Before Edgar got up off the sofa to head upstairs, he leaned over and whispered in Sig's ear, "Did you tell Norman I smoked a cigarette?"

"No," Sig whispered back and left it at that. This time, he figured that was a confidence between Edgar and himself. My kid brother admitted he broke the smoking rule, although that was probably the one thing he could have gotten away with, and he was punished for it. Personally, I'm freaking done with the incident and I'm putting the past behind us. Maybe I should explain that to Edgar before…

Sig didn't have time to explain. Edgar slipped off the sofa and was halfway up the steps before Sig had time to justify his silence on the smoking issue.

With Edgar gone, Sig flipped off the TV and went into the kitchen.

With his big brother hovering conspicuously at the kitchen sink, Norman covered his mouth with his free hand and whispered private thoughts he hoped only Amanda could hear.

"I miss you so much, baby."

"I know," Amanda said in a sweet, feminine voice, "I miss you, too."

"I think about you ALL the time."

Amanda huffed playfully, "Even when you're in your room staring at all those poster girls with the big boobies taped to your walls?"

Norman sighed, "Especially then."

"Ugh," Amanda moaned, "That's just disgusting."

"I'll take 'em down if you want me to," Norman honestly offered, knowing full well this amazing girl on the other line had him wrapped around her little finger.

"You keep 'em up," Amanda spoke confidently, "They don't intimidate me."

"Why should they?" Norman's voice grew deeper, softer, "They are nothing compared to you."

"God," Amanda rolled her eyes, "You are such a sweet-talker sometimes."

Sig nonchalantly brushed passed his brother on the way to the refrigerator, purposefully nudging him out of the way with an overly exaggerated sigh of waiting frustration. Damn, you've had all day to make mushy talk with your girlfriend and yous two have been at it for over an hour. There's shit we need to talk about, Norman. Come on! Edgar's gonna wonder why we haven't come up yet.

Norman took the hint, eyeing his older brother with mild disgust. He turned and huddled himself against the corner of the kitchen walls. "Seven o'clock?"

"Yeah," Amanda agreed, "We'll try it. No guarantees. You know how my dad is."

"Alright," Norman said hopefully. He grew quiet, whispering in the barest of voices, "I love you."

"I love you," Amanda whispered back, "I can't wait until we're together again."

"MMMMM," Norman hummed with such intense longing, his testicles tightened and he wished he could warp through the phone and make love to his girlfriend for the next three days.

"See ya, Norman."

I love the way she says my name. I'll never get tired of hearing her say it. "See ya, baby."

With a dejected exhale out of his mouth, Norman pushed the hook and sadly hung up the phone. He turned back around and came nose-to-chin with his older brother.

"WHAT is happening at seven o'clock tomorrow?" Sig asked with his forearms crossed in front of his chest. He did a phenomenal job of looking intimidating, standing over his shorter, younger brother and acting mildly accusatory.

"Um," Norman was literally backed into a corner and his only means of escape were effectively blocked, "About that…"

Sig smiled wide, a twinkle in his eyes and dropped the stern façade, backing up a few steps. He playfully pushed passed his brother and grabbed two sodas from out of the refrigerator. He handed one off to Norman and tilted his head in the direction of the porch.

Norman relaxed, realizing Sig was just kidding with the parental accusation. He gladly took the offered soda and followed Sig outside. Daisy came bounding down the steps when she heard the backdoor open. She was outside quicker than the boys, preferring to utilize the backyard as opposed to the newspaper on the garage floor.

While Daisy took care of her needs, Norman asked gruffly, "I'm not hanging around out here if you're smoking."

"Naw," Sig stated as he sat down on the top step of the porch, "I'll wait until you leave." He looked up and slyly smiled at his meaty brother. Then he patted the other half of the top step and indicated Norman should take a load off.

Daisy interpreted the gesture to mean she was welcomed to sit next to the tall one so she clambered up the steps and took a seat. Panting, she turned her muzzle directly to Sig's face and gave him a solid whiff of dog breath.

"Oh my God," Sig winced at the smell, "I forgot how bad that smells."

"Like kibble and soggy tennis ball."

"And God knows what else."

What? It's not like I can brush my own teeth.

"Pet her, Sig," Norman said from behind them, looking at the back of his tall brother and the little Labrador sitting hopefully next to him.

Sig looked over his shoulder and shot Norman a glare, relenting a moment later and began stroking the dog from the top of her head all the way down to the top of her rear. Daisy thumped her tail and snuggled closer to the biggest brother. Alright, you're a pretty cool dog, I'll admit it…only to myself. It's like you belong here, like you were meant to be here. "I called the pound today…and the newspaper. We'll try to find her family…for two weeks. That's it. Then it's all on Dad if she stays or goes."

YES! Norman managed to squeeze his way in between the porch post and the skinny dog, sitting down and sipping his root beer. Here I am. I got my big bro, my best friend and my partner in crime. I got a great dog. My baby brother's a mess but I think we're sitting outside so we can talk about a plan for a few minutes while he's not listening so, hopefully, we'll get that worked out. My girl loves me and I'll get to see her real soon, if I'm lucky. I have a great summer job and an awesome truck. Mom…well, let's not think about that. Other than that, I have everything…except a beer. I'd love a beer right about now. Warm summer night. Hanging outside on the porch. What do I got…a Root Beer.

"Seven o'clock?…" Sig asked as he scratched the dog behind her left ear.

Norman was pulled out of his silent contemplations. "We're gonna take the dog for a walk...the three of us."

"We already did that.'

"No. Tomorrow. At seven o'clock."

"Really," Sig's pitch rose higher with questioning, "How do we know the dog will need to go for a walk tomorrow at exactly seven o'clock?"

"Well," Norman said carefully, "We're just going to casssuallly walk passed Amanda's house with the dog at exactly seven o'clock. Annnddd, if her and her family just happens to be outside barbequing at that exact same moment, well…won't that be a funny coincidence, huh?" He finished his line of thinking with a shrug of feigned indifference.

Sig shook his head and hid a smile, "Let me get this straight. We're going to DRIVE the dog over to Amanda's neighborhood and THEN take her for a walk passed Amanda's house."

Norman nodded.

"Jesus, you ARE desperate, aren't you?" Sig asked flatly.

Norman launched into a full explanation only to get interrupted, "I need you to talk to her dad, Sig…"

"ME?" Sig raised his voice an octave and pointed to his chest.

"Yes…YOU," Norman stated emphatically, "I need you to be all 'Super Parent' and talk her dad into letting her and her sister come to the lake for 4th of July. You can show him that an 'adult' will be present and in charge the entire time and that it won't just be a bunch of teenagers hanging around, getting drunk and making out."

"Although that last part is EXACTLY what you plan on doing while you're there," Sig confronted his younger brother.

Norman stared at his brother, devoid of expression, "Ah, yeah, of course."

"You're freaking nuts if you think her dad is gonna let those girls go," Sig said with a sanctimonious tone, "You know better than me how he is."

"I do," Norman began pleading, "That's why I'm bringing you over there…so to speak…to talk to him. Once he talks to you, firm handshakes and all that 'dad' shit…and sees you're an awesome guardian...or parent or whatever the hell you are this summer…and he'll see he has nothing to worry about."

Sig came close to snorting root beer through his nose.

Norman ignored the implied sarcasm, "Come on, Sig…please…just try. Please, just do this…for me. Please…"

Recovering, Sig swallowed his root beer and turned wide eyes in Norman's direction, "Can I just point out that only two nights ago YOU told me to drop the 'Mike Brady' act. Now, you want to put my 'act' on display in front of the man that may someday be your future father-in-law just so you can get a little quality alone time with your girlfriend at the lake?"

Nodding vigorously, Norman confirmed Sig's spot-on assessment of the proposed plan, "That pretty much sums it up."

"Do you understand what you are asking of me?" Sig grew serious, "You are asking me to tell this man his daughters will be safe in my hands, under MY watch. That's a lot of damn responsibility I'm taking on. What happens if…well, you know."

"What?"

"I don't know, Norman…" Sig tried to explain, "…something like Amanda gets pregnant and has a baby exactly nine months from 4th of July weekend. Her father would kill me…literally."

"Sig, I'm pretty sure he'd kill me first."

"Then Edgar would be an only child."

"Come on," Norman lowered his voice to a whisper, "We are always careful. You know that."

Sig pondered the crazy idea in silence.

Norman held his breath.

The oldest brother was close to telling Norman to stop dreaming and come back to Earth when he paused and really listened to what his brother was asking of him. It's sort of a compliment in a strange way. Norm thinks I'm worthy enough to be deemed worthy enough by the ex-marine turned hard-nosed father of two teenage girls. If that man thinks I pass for a fine, upstanding man who can take care of his two precious angels, then maybe I'm not doing such a crappy job at this guardian business. More than just putting myself out there to be judged, I owe it to Norman to at least try. Countless times this summer, my younger brother has stepped up with Edgar when I've fallen completely apart. If he really wants me to do this, I can at least give it my best shot.

Norman was about to start begging when Sig finally spoke up.

"Fine."

"Really?" Norman asked, shocked at how easy it was to convince Sig to go along with this scheme.

"I'm not making any promises," Sig looked doubtful and stared at Norman, letting him see the doubt on his face, "So don't get your hopes up but…I'll talk to the man."

"No worries," Norman reassured his brother, "I have complete faith that you will make a good impression on him.

"We'll see," Sig cocked an eyebrow, "But if I tell this man that his daughters are going to be safe and he trusts me enough to allow them to come, that means you better keep your dick in your pants at all times. You wanna get some action, you do it under someone else's watch…not mine. GOT IT?"

It was a difficult request…no, order…to accept for a horny, love-struck seventeen year old male who'd been without for months due to illness and other restrictions. Yet, Norman understood what his older brother was saying. Sig's putting his neck out there for me. Amanda and I can wait a little longer for that stuff…plus, there's more than one way to satisfy one's urges. Honestly, I just want to hold her and kiss her and have her with me. "Alright," he said, acknowledging the command and accepting the verdict.

Sig leaned over the dog and stared his brother down, "Promise me, bro. And not just because of Mr. Winchester, either. There will be kids present; our little brother, Amanda's little sister…Nick's little brother."

"Promise," Norman stared back with direct eye contact, vividly recalling the look of horror on Edgar's face when he accidently walked in on him and Amanda getting frisky in the bathroom.

"I'm holding you to this," Sig sat back straight but maintained the eye contact between them, "I know what it's like to want to be with your girlfriend."

I know that you do. I'm just sorry that the one you fell in love with turned out to be a bitch. "Thanks," Norman said quietly, lifting his hand to touch his brother's shoulder, hesitating and pulling it back. He stroked Daisy under her chin instead. "Thanks for doing this for me."

"Norman, I'd do anything for you," Sig said softly, bowing his head and looking down at his feet. The words sort of slipped out unintentionally but Sig meant every word. Mentally, he chalked up saying them to living by the code.

The middle brother closed his eyes, thinking of the many ways he would have liked to respond to the heartfelt statement but deciding they were all too 'girly' sounding. I know you love me. Even when we are really, really mad at each other, I still know.

"So," Sig popped his head up, his voice returning to normal, "The kid."

"Yeah, what the hell was that tonight?" Norman was grateful for the change of topic. "I mean, I know what happened and I think I know why but…what the fuck?"

"You still think a therapist is a bad idea?" Sig asked with sincerity.

Pursing his lips together, the logical side of Norman's thinking took over, "No, I think he needs to see someone. The nightmares are getting worse and, now, this reaction with the hose and hiding under the damn picnic table. I'm only worried about how he'd react to the idea."

"We'll explain everything to him," Sig inwardly laughed at his own words. Don't I always explain everything to him before it happens? "We'll sit down and have a long talk with him and tell him why we…WE…think this is what is best for him. And, whether he likes it or not, he has to at least try to talk to someone about EVERYTHING." I have to do what is best for my kid brother. He may not always like it or agree with me, but he has to do what I tell him, especially when it comes to his well-being. And that's the end of that. Decision made.

"Dad?" Norman questioned.

"Just another thing to add to the list of things he and I need to discuss."

Daisy's ears perked up, like perhaps she herself was already on that long list.

That's he and 'us', Sig. "Money?"

"I'll find a way."

"When are you gonna call?"

"Monday," Sig answered, rubbing at the pain in his jaw "After work."

"Good," Norman stated, then asked, "How's your teeth?"

"You gonna ask me that every day now?" Sig said with a sigh.

"Well," Norman stood up, ready to run, "If you'd put your class ring back on, I'd know that you were still in pain and I can stop asking."

Sig's shoulders drooped as he got blindsided with the reminder of his ring. "Norman…" he started, prepared to chide his brother for bringing it up.

"Hey, a guy has to try, right?" Norman said as he called the dog with a pat of his hand against his massive thigh and opened the back door, slipping away and allowing his brother his privacy to smoke. I'm not giving up on that ring.


By the time Sig locked up for the night and went upstairs, Norman, Edgar and Daisy were all curled up together in Edgar's bed, watching re-runs of All In The Family. Edgar's sore hands had been re-bandaged by his older brother, the nightly routine becoming monotonous and frustrating for all of them.

He stopped in the room and smiled to himself. It was a pleasing sight, the three of them together. Standing by the head of the bed, Sig looked over and asked Norman, "You staying?"

"Yup," the middle brother replied.

Edgar shifted his eyes upwards to his oldest brother, "I told him he didn't need to but he just barged in and made himself comfortable." And I'm not really sure why I'm complaining about it because I want one of you to stay with me. I guess I'm just putting on the 'tough' act because I don't want you two to see me as a baby. But, I'm scared…and I don't know why. It's over…I keep telling myself it's over. They're dead. So why is this stuff still haunting me?

"You want me to kick him out?" Sig asked with a grin, "I could send him to his room. I always wanted to do that."

"I'll bet," Norman blurted out under his breath.

"No," Edgar answered firmly, "Don't send Norman to his room. He can stay. It's alright."

"OoooK," Sig said slowly, "But if he starts snoring, you can't say I didn't try." Satisfied his kid brother was in good hands (and paws), Sig turned to leave.

"Wait," Edgar called after him, "Please come back…for just a minute."

Sig turned back around and sat on the edge of the bed. He caught a quick glimpse of Norman's apprehensive expression and then focused solely on Edgar. Norman sat up, trying not to disturb the snoring dog squished between them and flipped off the TV. Clearly Archie and Edith were not nearly as important as whatever was about to come out of Edgar's mouth.

When the room grew quiet, Edgar had to find his courage again to continue. Eventually, with both older brothers staring at him, he bowed his shaggy head and spoke low, "Norman, I wanted to tell you this all day."

Sig had a good feeling he knew what was coming next. He kept silent about his suspicions but he believed that if he was correct, he was going to handle this time around very differently than the last.

Edgar glanced over his eyelashes at Sig, his face filled with shame and silently asking for support. I couldn't tell Norman this without you here. It's not that I'm afraid of our brother but…last time he found out about this…well, it didn't go over so well.

"It's OK, kid," Sig said softly, nodding his encouragement and placing his hand on Edgar's leg over the bedspread. Gently, he rubbed up and down lightly over the fabric. "Get it off your chest if you need to. You'll feel better."

Norman didn't want this seriousness atmosphere that suddenly encompassed the room, nor did he want to hear bad news, "Edgar, you don't have to tell me I'm the best big brother in the world for finding this dog and bringing her home. I already know I'm the best."

"I smokedacigarette," Edgar announced hurriedly, rushing on, "When I was at the Shack two nights ago. I'm sorry, Norman. I know how much you hate it." There…it's out 'n the open. He then proceeded to study the small stitch work pattern of his comforter.

Sig shifted his blue eyes over towards their middle brother, attempting to gage his reaction to Edgar's confession.

Surprisingly, Norman seemed unfazed, at least on the surface. "You knew," he asked Sig and pointedly ignoring Edgar for the moment.

Sig nodded, refusing to apologize for not divulging the information.

"And you explained why smoking at his age…any age, for that matter…is a dangerous, disgusting habit that will eventually kill you if you don't stop?" Norman asked flatly, a slight edge to his voice.

"Um, yes, at some point and time, he and I have had that discussion," Sig answered, adding the following important reminder, "And he was punished for breaking the rule again…and I forgave his mistake." The tall blond could only hope Norman would be as forgiving. If not, he was ready to really order Norman to his room for a long 'time-out.' You're not raking him over the coals again like you did last time. Mom's good mixing bowl is safely put away in the kitchen cabinet for the evening. Its services will not be needed.

Edgar stayed perfectly still, letting his brothers talk about him like he wasn't even there and not making a case for his defense. It seemed that his oldest brother was doing a fine enough job without him.

After what seemed like a lengthy wait, Norman turned to his younger brother and simply asked, "You remember what said about how my brothers smoking makes me feel…what it does to my heart?"

The young teen remembered very well, so well, in fact, that he felt the tears coming on at the thought of hurting his older brother like this again. He couldn't find his voice so he nodded and kept his eyes locked on his knees.

Norman eyed his little brother carefully. The boy looked positively guilt-riddened and on the verge of crying. We've had enough tears this summer. "NO MORE," he stated emphatically, unsure if he meant the tears or smoking.

Edgar naturally assumed it was about the smoking, "No more, Norman, I swear." He looked passionately over at Norman, practically pleading to be believed.

"Don't swear," Norman stated as he slid down the bed and turned on his side, fluffing the pillow behind him, "And don't make me any promises. Just don't do it again." Settling into the mattress, he grumbled to his oldest brother, "Turn out the light…and leave the bathroom light on."

Sig took that as his cue to leave. In his opinion, Norman took the news better than expected and he could go to bed without worrying that their middle brother would strangle Edgar in his sleep. "Goodnight, then," he said, standing up and carding his hand through Edgar's hair.

Although he didn't get the forgiveness he was seeking, Edgar sighed with relief and mouthed a "Thank you" in Sig's direction.

Sig smiled and, for the first time, leaned down and kissed Edgar on the top of his head before leaving. He turned off the bedroom light, turned on the bathroom light and closed the door, preparing to brush his teeth. Only when the toothbrush hit the back of his gums did he start to cry from the pain he'd been feeling all day. The tears that fell came from actual physical pain and he whimpered softly as he tried to accomplish the simple task. It took forever and, when he was done, he sat down and tried to mentally block out the pain.

Back in the darkness of Edgar's room, the youngest brother couldn't stop himself from asking, "You mad?"

"Yes…" Norman said sleepily, "But I'll get over it."

"If it makes you feel any better, I got an extra lick of the paddle for it," Edgar whispered.

Norman rolled over onto his other side, facing his little brother and a warm dog, "No, that does NOT make me feel any better. If anything, it makes me feel worse. Why'd ya gotta tell me all this, anyway? I think I was happier not knowing."

"Don't know," Edgar caught Norman's gaze out of the corner of his eye, "I just don't want there to be any more secrets between us."

"Don't smoke anymore and then you won't have to worry about keeping it a secret."

Edgar flinched ever so slightly at Norman's quick comeback, "You want to leave?"

"Never," Norman released the edginess in his voice and whispered back, "Now go to sleep." He reached over the dog and stroked Edgar's cheek before retracting his hand and shoving it under his pillow.

" 'K " Satisfied, Edgar rolled onto his side and curled up with Daisy.

By the time Sig came back, he didn't have the heart to chase the dog back downstairs so he left her there. Trudging down the hallway, the oldest Hansen found his own bed. He had taken three Extra Strength Tylenols and could only hope they would dull the pain enough to get him through the night.


"Why are we here?" Edgar asked inside the parked truck, "And why is Sig so dressed up just to take the dog for a walk?"

It was 6:55 pm Sunday evening and the three boys, along with an anxious dog, sat inside Norman's truck as it was parked down the block from the Winchester residence.

Sig had come home from work, ate a quick meal with his brothers and readied himself for what felt like a blind date with an older man. He showered, shaved and put on his best dress shirt and dark blue slacks. For reasons he couldn't explain, he even added a splash of cologne to his smooth face and neck.

Edgar hadn't questioned the idea of taking the dog for a drive, knowing how much the canine species loved to hang their heads out car windows. He'd only begun wondering what was going on when the truck got parked in a familiar neighborhood about ten minutes from their house. That wasn't that much of a drive for Daisy to enjoy the wind in her muzzle.

Perceptive young teen that he was, Edgar could feel the nervousness coming off both his older brothers, particularly Norman. The middle brother had also showered, shaved but dressed casually, wearing a red collared shirt and a clean pair of dark denim jeans.

"What ARE we doing here, Norman?" Sig asked in a bittersweet voice. You try and explain this one to the kid.

Norman gnawed at the inside of his lip, struggling for a plausible answer. Finally, he asked Edgar, "Would you like Sally to come to the lake for July 4th?"

"Guess so," Edgar shrugged, trying to act blasé about the cute blond girl. In truth, he very much wanted Sally to go with them to the lake, more so than his best friend, Matt.

"Then, for once, don't ask questions and just follow our lead," Norman commanded, grasping Daisy's leash and opening the truck door. Daisy jumped off Norman's lap onto the sidewalk, excited that they were finally going somewhere. Norman got out and shut the door behind him.

Edgar turned towards his oldest brother. He couldn't help but still ask questions, "What's going on?"

"Love, little brother," Sig shook his head as he put his hand on the driver's side door handle. "Guys do strange things for love."

Norman had timed his plan perfectly. As the three boys rounded the corner, they approached a large Colonial style brick house with a ground-level wooden deck off to the side. Amanda, her father, her mother and her little sister were sitting at the outdoor table, a blue jumbo patio umbrella coming up from the middle of the glass table and shielding them from the sun's rays. The smell of BBQ chicken and butter-slathered corn-on-the-cob was in the summer air and the family seemed to be relishing in their dinner and each other's company.

Sig, Norman and Edgar paused for a second, standing still on the sidewalk like silent observers and watching the scene. This was something that they used to have, something they had all their lives, something that was suddenly and unexpectedly taken away from them; a complete family unit.

Mrs. Winchester, an older but lovely version of her younger blond daughter, laughed good-naturedly as the family's cat jumped up on the table. The soft, feminine laughter, so pure and honest, was like a dagger for each boy, a piercing reminder of what once was and could no longer be for them.

Daisy only noticed the enticing aroma of chicken and the sneaky white Persian cat that looked like he might be getting some. She pulled hard on her leash, catching Norman off guard and getting away from them.

"Shit," Norman exclaimed as the leash slipped out of his hand.

The three boys chased after the small, cream-colored Labrador, calling her name. Daisy had other plans. She ran across the perfectly manicured lawn and came to a grinding halt at the low railing surrounding the cherry-stained wooden deck. Spying the cat, Daisy barked incessantly, attempting to warn the family of the cat's stealthy and manipulative ways.

The fluffy white cat hissed from the table, showing off his sharp teeth and pink tongue. Then, the fur ball decided the dog wasn't worth the effort, the loud barking too annoying for his ears, and ran back into the house.

Daisy was pleased to see the cat take off, feeling as if she accomplished her job and perhaps, if she was lucky, would be rewarded with a piece of that succulent chicken on the table. She continued to make her presence known, barking like a rabid dog.

The Winchester family sat frozen, all of them a little frightened by the sudden arrival of a strange dog. Although she looked sweet, the warning barks could easily be interpreted as menacing and everyone was afraid to move.

The boys finally caught up with Daisy. Sig's long legs enabled him to get to the deck first. He picked up the handle of the black, nylon leash and pulled the dog back with a firm hand. Looking up at the stunned family, he said loudly over the barking, "I'm so sorry. She got away from us. She's friendly, don't worry. Apparently, not towards cats, though."

"Sig?" Amanda stood up and feigned surprise, tapping into her high school drama club skills, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know, just out walking the dog," Sig knowingly smiled back at his brother's girlfriend.

"We we're, ahhh…" Norman added, coming up behind his brother, "….visiting in the neighborhood." It was not a lie…the boys were visiting. Norman just failed to mention who exactly they were visiting.

Edgar was the last to arrive, crouching on the ground next to Sig and calming Daisy down with soothing words and his bandaged hands stroking her ears. He knelt next to the dog, comforting her with his presence. Daisy stopped barking, more focused on the chicken and realizing her people may not be too pleased with her demanding behavior.

Sally got up from the table, extremely curious about both figures sitting on her side lawn; the handsome young boy with the emerald green eyes and the friendly dog with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. "Can I pet her?" she asked to no one in particular.

"Sure," Sig answered, turning a deferring gaze towards the older gentleman at the table, "If your father allows it."

Mr. Winchester waved his hand in an uninterested gesture of acquiesces. He was more absorbed with his suspicions regarding this 'surprise' home visit by three teenage boys, one of which couldn't seem to take his eyes off his oldest daughter.

Norman stood next to Edgar, absentmindedly petting the dog but focused exclusively on the petite brunette opening the small gate and ushering her younger sister down the one step that lead to the yard. Amanda looked beautiful in a pink flowery summer dress, her hair falling in soft curls around her face. Norman could smell her perfume as she walked around him and he closed his eyes, envisioning burying his nose in her hair and soaking up the feminine smell.

Kneeling next to Edgar, Sally allowed Daisy to lick her pixie-like face. "Oh my goodness, she's so cute," the little sister announced, giggling as the wet tongue licked her nose.

So are you, the youngest Hansen thought as he admired Sally's tan skin and summer blond highlights. "Norman found her on the side of the road. He saved her life."

"She's a lucky dog," Sally declared.

"We're trying to find her family," Sig explained, "I called around to the local pound and pet store in the area but no one seems to know anything about her."

"And if no one does claim her, what you are going to do with her? Will you keep her?" Mrs. Winchester asked.

Sig turned his attention back to Mr. and Mrs. Winchester. "Ma'am, that decision will be up to my father when he comes back from fishing. But, yes, with his permission, we'd like to keep her."

"Sounds like a wonderful thing you are doing, Sig," Mrs. Winchester softened her eyes. Your mother would be proud of you. I bet you don't realize how often I spoke with your mother over the phone. I imagine Amanda and Norman don't even know that Mrs. Hansen and I conferred notes about their whereabouts on numerous occasions. She was an absolutely delightful woman and we became friends over the years. "So you are taking care of your brothers this summer and now a dog? That's a lot of responsibility."

"Yes, ma'am," Sig smiled at her, "I've got a lot on my plate."

"And how's that going for you, son?" Mr. Winchester studied the countenance of the tall young man with the cobalt blue eyes. He remembered the oldest Hansen brother from Mrs. Hansen's funeral and on several occasions when he picked Amanda up from their house. He just couldn't remember this young man being so tall, so quietly confidence and seemingly put together. There certainly was an air about the young blond and the experienced Marine recognized it immediately. The Ret. Commissioned LtCol. of the US Marine Corps knew leadership when he saw it. He'd been trained to spot it from a mile away.

"It's been hard, sir," Sig admitted, looking directly into the man's eyes and never wavering. He wasn't looking for sympathy or a shoulder to crying on but plainly stating the facts, "But I'm managing."

Mr. Winchester nodded, the faintest hint of an understanding smile crossing his thin lips.

"Well," Mrs. Winchester said, rising from her seat, "Since you boys are here, you might as well join us for dinner."

Norman chirped, "We'd love…"

"Thank you ma'am," Sig interrupted quickly, "But we couldn't do that. I'm sorry for intruding on your meal."

"Nonsense," Mrs. Winchester smiled, "You boys stay and eat. And I won't take no for an answer." She left the table and headed into the house to get more food.

Norman caught his older brother's eye and smiled like a simpleton. Obviously, his plan was turning out better than he hoped. Now, he'd get to see his girlfriend for a longer period of time than he originally expected, regardless of the fact it would be under the watchful eye of her father. And, the knowledge that he was getting a second supper for the day didn't hurt either.

With a muffled exhale, Sig narrowed his eyes. Not only was he getting to meet his blind date, now he had to have dinner with him.


An hour later, the Norman and Edgar finished up their second helping of macaroni salad, BBQ chicken and freshly cut watermelon. Even Daisy managed to score a chicken drumstick bone and was making the most of it as she was tied in the shade under the deck. For the second time today, Sig pushed around the food on his plate, not willing to deal with making the pain in his jaw worse. Lucky, the oldest brother had someone to distract him from eating.

Riveted, Sig listened to Mr. Winchester's military stories. It was impossible to tell if the oldest brother was truly interested or just placating his 'date' for the evening. He asked the appropriate number of questions and 'oohed' and 'ahhed' over the tales. Then, he shared some of his own stories about the family boat, how she was built and all of the Northwestern's finest features.

Being a Marine, Mr. Winchester knew a thing or two about boats, considering, in his opinion, the US Navy was really a glorified escort for the Marine Corps. The man had spent some time at sea and was genuinely interested in Sig's nautical knowledge and experience. It didn't take long for the surly old LtCol. to take a liking to the mature, young man.

Amanda and Norman spent the meal trying to find ways to touch each other 'by accident.' He bumped into her knee with his hand as he reached for his fallen spoon. She brushed his hand with hers as she almost spilled her iced-tea.

Sally and Edgar seemed to be having trouble finding things to talk about so the two of them talked about the dog and Sally's cat, Muffin. Muffin had left the party when the dog arrived and hadn't come back since.

When Amanda offered to help her mother with the dishes, Norman chimed in that he'd help as well. The two of them got a few stole kisses in the kitchen when their mother went back to clear the table.

Finally, it was time to leave. Politely thanking the Winchesters for the meal, Sig called over to his youngest brother, "Edgar…"

That was all the reminder Edgar needed. "Thank you ma'am. The macaroni salad was awesome, just like my…" hesitating, his voice trailed off, "…my mom used to make."

"You are more than welcome," Mrs. Winchester accepted the compliment with a forced smile. Having lost her own mother when she was young, she knew what these boys were going through.

Amanda dragged Norman out from the kitchen and gave him a gentle shove out the sliding back door.

Norman looked pleadingly at Sig first, then turned to Mrs. Winchester, thanking her for the meal. Next, he looked over at the old man and was tempted to ask him how hooking up the security system was going. The middle brother had noted that it didn't seem to be installed yet. Passing on the temptation, he said firmly, "Thank you, sir."

"Norman," Mr. Winchester eyed the stocky, handsome young man with a cautious and wary look, "I hope we didn't keep you from your 'visiting.'' I'm not stupid, boy!

"Ah, no, sir…" Norman wanted to smack the smug look off the guy's face.

Sig intervened quickly, "Thanks again, sir. I enjoyed talking to you."

"Same here," Mr. Winchester smiled a little at this Hansen brother, extending his hand out for a handshake.

Sig shook the man's hand and thought well, it's now or never. "Sir," Sig swallowed. I'm doing this for Norman. "Our family has a cabin on Elbow Lake, about two hours from here. We're having a picnic out there this weekend…for Independence Day."

Mr. Winchester lost his smile, "I recall Norman mentioning something about that."

"And I'm sure my brother would like the girls to come," Sig stood up to the man, knowing a guy like this wouldn't appreciate cowering and begging. "They are welcomed to come with us…or they could come up on their own. As a matter of fact, you and Mrs. Winchester are welcome to come up and see the place for yourselves. Of course, you'd join us for the day."

Norman felt the bile rising in his throat and he turned away, hiding his crestfallen expression. The last fucking thing I want is Papa Winchester hanging around the lake, ruining the fun. Damn it, Sig, this was NOT part of the plan. Why'd you invite her parents?

Amanda glanced at her sister, her sun-kissed face turning pallid and looking slightly anemic. A horrid look passed between the two teenage girls, the thought of their parents coming with them about as awful an idea as someone changing the recipe for Coca-Cola and calling it "new" Coke. Neither girl wanted to be treated like a baby and, frankly, Amanda was sick of her father's over-protective nature and had had enough. Their parents coming with them to the lake was libel to start an all-out war at the Winchester house.

Mrs. Winchester came to the rescue, walking over and standing next to her husband, "Thank you, Sig, for the offer but I think the girls could go on their own. I'm sure they'd have more fun without us around. Amanda can drive and I'm sure she'd take very good care of her younger sister." The petite woman wrapped a delicate arm around her husband's back, hugging him lightly.

Shocked, Sig realized he'd been sent to butter up the wrong parent. Apparently, MRS. Winchester was the one who was going to make this happen.

Still, Mr. Winchester looked less than sold on the idea, "And who will be there at this party?"

Amanda held her breath, a glimmer of hope sparked in her chest. If her father was asking questions about it, he was at least considering letting them go. She crossed her fingers at her side, wiggling them to catch Norman's attention.

"It's just a picnic, sir," Sig corrected him, "And it will just be us and my friend, his girlfriend and younger brother."

"Am I to assume there will be alcohol at this…picnic?" the man asked sternly.

"No," Sig answered firm, "No one but my friend is over twenty-one and I know that my friend wouldn't drink in front of his younger brother. There will be no drinking, I can assure you."

The man pondered over the information. Next, after careful consideration, he asked, "You will be present the entire time?"

"Yes, sir," Sig replied, "I'll be keeping tabs on everyone. We'll be swimming, fishing, playing baseball and maybe setting off some fireworks at night. That's about the extent of it." Adding a heartbeat later, "It's what you fought for, sir…for us to continue to celebrate our country's freedom and independence OUR own way…forever." Cheesy, yes, but if it works, so be it.

"John," Mrs. Winchester whispered in a soft but pressing voice. She squeezed her husband's mid-section, gently digging her long, manicured nails into his lumbar.

The man's jaw muscles tensed and relaxed several times as his hard grey eyes bore no indication which way he was leaning.

Sig, Norman, Edgar, Amanda, Sally, Mrs. Winchester and, peeking her head out from under the porch, Daisy looked at the ex-Marine with bated breath.

After an eternity, Mr. Winchester's shoulders sagged slightly. I can't hold on to them forever. "For the day," he said, pointing a firm finger in Sig's direction.

Amanda pumped her fist, Edgar smiled broadly and Sally squealed with delight. Daisy started barking and even Mrs. Winchester seemed happy for her girls. Norman kept quiet, looking at the back of Sig's head and seeing his brother in yet another new light this summer. The feeling was something akin to admiration and respect. He knew he owed his big bro BIG time for somehow pulling off this incredible feat and he would make it up to him somehow.

Among the small celebration, Sig sensed he was the only one that heard the rest of Mr. Winchester's declaration of independence. "My girls are NOT sleeping over, Sig. They come home by midnight. Anything goes wrong up there, your ass is gonna answer to me. Comprehend?"

"Yes, sir," Sig blanched under the stern warning, feeling very much like a Private, 1st class being sent to clean the LtCol.'s personal latrine…or to the front line to carry the Stars and Stripes up the hill. Oh, shit, what have I gotten myself into to? How many fathers am I going to have to answer to this summer? What the hell was I thinking?

~tbc