'You know, the past week here hasn't been that bad. I mean, I finally have a mother, a little brother, a new coach, and I've still got a number of my books. I could have ended up with a lot worse, and I'm grateful. And through all of that, there's still this horrible ache that I can't keep pushing away. Sooner or later, I'm going to have to figure out how to live without Dad. Because right now, it's all a show.'

Still on her high from skating for the first time in weeks, Kate could barely sit still in the car as they drove home. If she tried to sit still, her leg would start shaking, or her fingers tapping, and after a few minutes she just gave up entirely. Wesley noticed her energy, but couldn't join her. He was still worried about his mom, because even though she'd assured him that she was fine, he couldn't help noticing how pale she had become.

The voices kept repeating themselves in her head, and it was all Cindy could do not to scream. She was sure it was a memory, something from her past, but nothing else was coming. Hoping the radio might tune them out, she turned it up louder.

'Today I may not have a thing at all Except for just a dream or two But I've got lots of plans for tomorrow And all my tomorrows belong to you'

She had been staring out the window, her fingers tapping on the glass, but now Kate sat up ramrod straight and stared at the radio helplessly. ' Not this song. Anything but this song'. For an hour, she had managed to forget everything, her parents, Texas, Chris, everything that she missed. Now, with Frank Sinatra's help, it all came back.

Cindy was also bothered by the song and felt a warm tingly feeling from her stomach spread to her fingertips. The song was comforting and familiar, she knew that much, but she had no idea why. A bouquet of lilies appeared in her mind's eye for a split second, and then disappeared, leaving her extremely confused and agitated.

The radio made the only noise throughout the whole trip, and Kate struggled not to let the tears forming behind her eyes fall. If there was one song that her father could listen to over and over again, it was All My Tomorrows. When she was little, he'd sweep her off her feet and they'd dance. Even when she was older, if they were alone, he'd pull her from wherever she was sitting and they'd waltz slowly in time with Frank. He had told her only a few months ago that this was the first song he and her mother had ever danced to as husband and wife.

Cindy was irritable and cranky when they arrived at home, and noticing this, Wesley, took Kate's hand and asked her to help him down in the basement. Once down there, he glanced around secretively before leading her to large trunk. Inside was a mass of pictures and a very cute homemade photo album.

"This is my Christmas present to Mom. We could make it from the both of us, if you want, " he smiled shyly, looking down at his feet. "You could find out about us, too. Cause I realized yesterday that you don't know much about us, and you've told me all about your dad." Pausing for a moment, he added, "Maybe you'll feel more part of the family."

Pulling out the album with a sad smile, she saw the wedding picture and nearly dropped it. Hands shaky and nearly crying, Kate nodded without a word. Noticing her changed expression, Wesley titled his head to peer into her face. "Kate, are you ok?"

A single tear coursed its way down her cheek, and she closed her eyes as the tune filled her head once more.

'Today I may not have a thing at all Except for just a dream or two But I've got lots of plans for tomorrow And all my tomorrows belong to you'

"No Wesley, I'm not ok." He had never truly realized how badly she missed her parents, but now it came to him as he watched the tears slide down her cheeks. Doing the only thing he could think of, he wrapped his small arms around her waist and tried to offer support. She clung to him like a lifeline, and she had never been more grateful for his presence.

Sniffing, she released him and kissed the top of his head. Whispering a soft, "Thank you," she examined the photo album once again. The art around the edges was impressive for a nine year-old. "This is really good."

He blushed, and took it from her gently. "Thanks. Mom keeps all her pictures down here. I asked Dad if I could take them, and he said it was all right. If you don't want to, it's ok. I just thought you might want to."

"Yea, Wesley, I do want to help. What can I do?" His face lit up and he began to explain eagerly.

Meanwhile, Cindy was upstairs picking up laundry, still unnerved by the conversation she heard at the skating rink. It kept replaying, and she couldn't identify the voice for the life of her. Stopping briefly in Kate's room, she glanced around before her eyes came to a stop at the picture frame. She had never really looked at it before, just passed over it, but now it was practically screaming at her. Dropping the basket, she walked over and touched the silver gently. It was so familiar- 'What? No, you didn't. I don't know. I was in this store, you know, um... this little antique place. What were you doing in an antique store? I don't know. Whatever. Um, look, if you don't like it just... don't tell me.'

Hand shaking, it was all she could do not to knock over the frame. She practically ran out the door with the basket, not stopping until she reached her bedroom. Closing the door, she sank down at the foot of her bed and held her head between her hands.

***

Wesley and Kate spent a few hours in the basement, and they were both beaming when they emerged. They found a lot to talk about, and both felt closer as a result. Lunch was ready, and Kate couldn't help noticing the dark circles under Cindy's eyes as they ate. She was hardly speaking, staring off into space until Kate or Wesley asked her a question, at which she snapped back to the present and asked them to repeat the question.

John noticed too, when he came home, that Cindy wasn't feeling well. In fact, he practically pushed her into the bathtub, knowing she could relax. Cindy didn't want to be left alone, however, so she made it quick. New phrases were coming from nowhere; just looking at the oven forced one. 'You have an oven you know. We can reheat.'

She had spent the past 14 years in the dark, and now little beams of light were coming from somewhere. She only wished she could turn on the light. But.even then, she wasn't sure she wanted to remember. The voice, the deep one that sent shivers down her spine, was not John's, and that scared her. The thought that she had loved someone (she could tell it was love by the way she felt when she heard the voice) before him, and probably left him unknowingly haunted her. Not that she'd leave her husband and child, but she didn't want the guilt.

Pulling her robe around her, she combed out her hair and sat down on the closed toilet seat. She closed her eyes as his voice repeated over and over, "You have an oven you know. We can reheat." Shaking her head determinedly, she did her best to ignore it. "I can't change anything," she said firmly to the mirror. With that, she turned and strode quickly from the bathroom.

Kate was writing a letter to Chris when she heard a knock on the door. Cindy came in; dressed in her pajamas, wet hair drawn away from her face. Signing the letter quickly, she folded it and sealed it in the envelope. She had written about Cindy and her stormy feelings extensively, and didn't want her to read it.

Getting up, she smiled at Cindy and started polishing her silver frame. The smile was fake, however, because she was aching so badly inside. The skating had helped her push it away, and even helping Wesley diminished the pain, but now it was back full force.

Kate ran her finger over the silver, and Cindy had to shake the voices from her head once again. They were becoming louder and once she even felt a presence. John was starting to get a little worried, and that was the last thing she wanted. They had given up the thought of her recovering her memory a long time ago, and she wasn't about to bring up the possibility only to be disappointed.

Noting Kate's pensive mood, she sat down at the desk chair and looked at her meaningfully. "Want to talk about it?"

Kate's eyes widened for a second before she shook her head and began polishing the frame. After a moments pause she closed her eyes and straightened her spine decisively. "Yea, actually. If I don't I think I'll explode."

That caught Cindy's attention, and she motioned for Kate to continue. She began to pace, arms wrapped tightly around her torso for support. "I found out things after my dad died.things about my mom and how she died. I was only a year old, so I don't remember her at all, but she haunted Dad. He never so much as looked at another woman, let alone date one. He'd dream of her, and more often than not, dream of her dying. I never knew why that bothered him so much until after, and now I can't ask him the things I need to know." She paused, as if searching for words, and then continued slowly, "I also found out something else, something that makes me question who I am. In my dreams, they call out for someone else. It's like I'm two people, and I can't figure out who is the real me."

Cindy was shocked, mainly because that was exactly how she felt. Inside her mind there was the person that knew everything about her, what her parents were like, her childhood, her favorite color, the first person she ever slept with, but she had been lost. Everything Cindy knew was something she'd built in the last fourteen years, after the accident. Memories had been lost, until something recently started bringing them back.

Even then, she only had a few conversations and one or two images, but no faces. No names either. Her aunt had taken her away to Wisconsin once they realized her memory was not returning. Aunt had said it was so she could start over, but Cindy had gotten the feeling that they were running. She hadn't been in Watertown long before she met John, and he introduced her to all his friends. They were married in under a year, and he never pressured her to remember.

Kate sat down on the bed with a look of despair. "There are so many questions, but no answers." Her face crumpled as she pulled her knees to her chest and began to cry. "Why'd he die and leave me so alone?"

Cindy joined her on the bed and wrapped her arms around her shuddering form. Kate allowed her to get closer, and they began rocking slowly. Smoothing her hair from her forehead, Cindy whispered, "You know, you and I have a lot in common." Surprise lined Kate's face, but she didn't speak. Continuing, Cindy said, "I lost my memory fourteen years ago, and I tried everything to get it back. After awhile, I just didn't need it anymore. I have a family that I love very much, and I don't need anything else."

"You don't wonder what you were like? I mean, do you even remember what your favorite color was?"

"No, I had to find a new one. Everything I have now is something I've built. But I'm so happy, and although remembering everything won't change that, I don't need it."

Kate pulled away. "Well, I remember everything. And as much as it hurts to think about it, it would hurt more if I didn't. I can't forget Dad. I just can't."

Cindy looked hurt as Kate began to pace in front of her. "I'm not saying you should forget. I'm saying you shouldn't worry about what you don't know. You are Kate. You just have to realize it."

"Before, I had someone. Now, I don't. I have to become a different person. I guess that makes me three people then." Kate was nearly fuming, unsure of what sparked her anger. Cindy sensed this, and said no more. Finally Cindy got up and left, leaving Kate in her anger.

After a few minutes of silent tears, Kate lay down, and tried to sleep. She didn't.