Bright lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He shut his eyes, smiling. Colin was coming back. He had survived surgery. He would return triumphantly and everything would be back to normal. It would take a while, and Amy would probably get back into the routine of taking the bus to Denver as often as she used to, but it would be worth it.

A sharp knock on his bedroom door interrupted his thoughts. He looked up to find Amy watching him. "What are you doing?" she questioned.

"Thinking."

"You? Thinking? That's an impossibility."

"What do you want?"

"If Mom asks, I went to Ephram's, okay?" she demanded.

"Sure." He was pleased that she wasn't Colin-obsessed at present and he was glad that she was starting off her summer vacation with nothing to do with bringing her boyfriend back; even if it was by spending time with that "freak."

*** "Well, I don't know, sweetheart; you're a little young to be walking around town," said Andy as he put a freshly-made sandwich into Delia's lunch bag.

"Oh, please, Dad, it's Everwood," Delia insisted, rolling her eyes.

"Don't you use that condescending tone with me, Delia," said Andy, knitting his eyebrows and sounding anything but harsh. "Did Ephram brainwash you about this town?"

"What's 'condescending' mean?"

"Oh, never mind. You can go to the arcade after school, fine, just stay close to Arnie. I mean it." He knelt down and straightened the hat on his daughter's head.

"I promise." Delia stalked over to the kitchen table and sat down with a thud.

The doorbell sounded suddenly and Andy rose to answer it. He opened the door to reveal a smiling Amy on the porch. "Hello, Dr. Brown. Is Ephram around?"

"No, Amy, I'm afraid he's not. He stepped out this morning to . . . pick up some sheet music, I think he said. But he should be back any minute; would you like to sit down and wait for him?" he invited.

She stepped inside, replying, "Sure, thanks." Amy walked into the kitchen, spotted Delia coloring with markers at the table, and greeted, "Hey, Delia."

"Hi, Amy," said Delia with a hint of admiration.

Eyeing the young girl's backpack that sat on the table, Amy asked, "Did the elementary school get out for summer vacation yet?"

"No, today's our last day," Delia replied, and then turned her attention back to her coloring.

"To be honest," said Dr. Brown, looking at his watch, "Ephram said he would be back by now to make sure Delia gets on the bus all right. I need to get to work early this morning."

"Oh, don't worry about it, Dr. Brown; I'll see her off," Amy said quickly.

"Are you sure? I don't know when Ephram will be back."

"Sure, no problem," she assured him.

"All right, if you're sure, then," Dr. Brown agreed. "Delia, make sure you clean up your artwork. I'll see you later." He bent down to kiss his daughter's forehead, grabbed all of his things, and exited through the front door.

Amy sat next to Delia at the table. "So . . . what's it like being the daughter of the Great Doctor Brown?"

Delia shrugged. "It's okay. But . . . he's not a very good hair-braider."

The other girl laughed. "It must be hard being the only girl in the house."

"You have no idea. Sometimes I feel like I have no one to talk to about . . . girl stuff."

Amy tucked her golden hair behind her ear and suggested, "Well, you can always tell me. Is there a girl thing you need to talk about now?"

"Sort of," murmured Delia, fidgeting. "I think I have a crush on a boy."

"That's really exciting, Delia!" laughed Amy. Judging by the look on Delia's face, the young girl apparently thought that she was committing a disreputable crime. "Do you want to tell me who it is?"

Delia squirmed in her chair, avoiding Amy's eyes. "Well . . . it's Bright."

Amy arched her eyebrows. "Bright? I'm warning you, Delia, he's not as charming as he may appear to be. He's really quite disgusting. Trust me, I know: I live in the room one door away from him. Plus, he's practically twice your age."

"Oh, well," sighed Delia, throwing down her marker and leaning back in her chair flaccidly. "It's not like he'd ever like someone like me, anyway. You're so lucky, Amy. You can get whoever you want."

"You mean Colin?"

"Not just Colin. Ephram, too. You can get more than one guy."

Amy paused and studied the girl. "You think Ephram likes me?" Of course it was obvious to her, but she wanted to see why someone as young as Delia could see it. "How do you know?"

"I hear him crying at night," Delia said, bearing an impossibly innocent expression. "And one time I heard him say your name, too."

Amy inhaled slowly after hearing this statement as a pang of guilt hit her. Suddenly she was filled with sympathy for the boy she had again and again mistreated and used. She had never really seen Ephram cry, and now she was involuntarily picturing him sobbing and calling out her name. . . . She winced and pushed the thoughts away.

"Tell you what, Delia. You said before that your dad was a bad hair- braider. If there's time, I'll give you a French-braid before you catch the bus."

Delia sprung up excitedly and flung her baseball cap across the room. "Great!" she exclaimed.

Right as Amy finished up the braid, Ephram walked through the door.

To be continued. . . .

[A/N--Thanks for reading . . . all of you cravin' for some A/E, you're about to get it in the next few chapters. Review, please!]