Title: What's Left, What's Growing

By: Clark's girl

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Sigh.

Ephraim nodded toward the school bus and put on a weirdly pleased smile to make it seem like they could leave now, he could get inside. He didn't need to do it twice; they were in a hurry. It was almost eleven and they still had more than ten kids to get rid of. Once the bus was out of sight, Ephraim turned toward the door. He had thought he could just walk in before, when he was standing alone in the rain, cold and dark and tired, but here, on the covered porch, with that clean, cool, new smell that came with heavy rain in the air and the coolness that had seemed cold not moments ago covering him, he thought that he'd much rather be out here than in there, with his father, who was probably asleep, but he wanted to be woken up, oh yes, he wanted to be woken up. Why? Hey, once you're asleep, the day is over. You don't have to think about it any more. Plus, what would Andy say to him? "Glad you got in okay, I'm going back to bed"? Wow, there's a real reason to get dragged back.

Ephraim didn't want to. The day was over. The big, huge, hard, sad day was over for his father, and Ephraim didn't want to be the one to bring him back. Let Delia have a bad dream or want a drink of water or something. That was easier. His father preferred Delia anyway.

So Ephraim just sat down on the porch swing, hugged his jacket around him, and enjoyed the rain.

Ephraim had only been enjoying the rain for seven minutes when he started to nod off. Right before he had, headlights arched across his eyes, and the sound of their garage door opening made him sit up and look around. It took a few seconds for Ephraim's eyes to adjust, but when they did, they saw his father's car pulling into the driveway, and then into the garage. Next, it was his father coming out of the garage and shutting it. His dad never looked up. He moved slowly, even in the rain. He didn't seem to be completely coordinated. Suddenly the thought bloomed in Ephraim's head that his father might be drunk, or hung over. Leave it to his dad to be hung over at eleven at night.

Ephraim watched as Andy made his way up toward the front door, all the way looking at his keys, finding the right one for the front door in the dark. Finally, as he was breasting the steps to the front porch, he looked up to see where he was going. His eyes rested on Ephraim and he stopped, mid-step. He stood still and just looked at him.

"You're home." He said.

"Yeah."

"I thought you might just have, uh, have gone to bed." He said, smiling at him.

"Well, you told me to wake you, and-"

"And I wasn't home. I'm sorry."

Sure, Ephraim thought. Let's stick with that.

"So ... where were you?" Ephraim asked standing up and pulling his jacket tighter around him tiredly. He had the slow, dull reactions of someone who had just been asleep.

"I was ..." Andy debated inside himself. He had been two places; a bar and a church. Which to mention in front of his impressionable fifteen-year-old son ... "I went to get a drink."

Ephraim laughed to himself. "I thought so."

"And I saw the Keyes."

"You're kidding me? Tonight? After the drinking?"

"I didn't get drunk, Ephraim."

"Uh huh."

"I didn't! Wait a minute, aren't you the one who's supposed to be saying that to me?"

"Things were always a little backwards with us."

"Uh huh, well, not this time, kid." He smiled. "I had one drink."

And then, to Ephraim's complete surprise, he walked slowly over to the porch swing and sat down. To Ephraim's even greater surprise, Ephraim followed and sat down next to him.

"So I guess it's my job to get my bad self to a kegger and get drunk to balance us out." Ephraim joked dryly, watching the rain. The joke was followed with no laughter, but the air lightened slightly.

"I don't believe so." Andy muttered, looking down at his left hand, ring finger, and a little slip of gold that was still there.

"What happened at the Keyes's?"

"Oh, nothing." He said, sitting back slightly and sighing. There was a pause, and then he spoke again, as if rethinking himself. "Well. I found out what the problem was." Andy smiled dryly to himself.

"Oh, yeah?" Ephraim asked, staring at the rain, not really caring.

"Yeah. But apparently," Andy said, spinning his wedding band on his finger. "they already knew."

"That's good. Curable?"

"Nope. I don't think so."

"Oh."

Andy sighed and shifted slightly. "They're getting a divorce." he said flatly, not looking up from the ring. Ephraim looked over at him quickly, and he immediately saw where his attention was focused; his wedding ring.

"Dad ..."

"I just ... I don't understand why they had to decide tonight."

Ephraim was beginning to grasp what had actually gone on. And he found himself feeling very, very bad for his father. He was sad for him, and he didn't know what to say.

"Tonight, tomorrow night. Tonight is just a night. It makes no difference for them, Dad." He finally said, because it made sense to him.

Andy leaned back and sighed, still playing with his wedding ring with his right hand.

"It made a difference to me."

There was a short silence, and Ephraim didn't think he had ever felt so uncomfortable in his life. For once he really wasn't sure one-way-or-the-other of his father's state of mind. Andy didn't seem completely firm in his calmness; Ephraim thought that, with only a little agitation, he could lose that physician's cold control that he seemed to have perpetually, and Ephraim didn't know if he was more terrified or intrigued by the thought.

"Yeah, I guess it would." Ephraim said quietly and quickly, turning back toward the rain.

"I just don't get it. Why? God, if there's the chance to work through it, work through it!"

"Dad-"

"I just think it's like, if there are so many people out there who ... who ... you know, who don't get the chance. Who lose the whole chance. Who lose their ... whole chance, you know?"

"Dad, you've had a bit too much to drink-"

"No I haven't."



"How many drinks did you have?"

"Two."

"Five minutes ago it was one."

"Well, five minutes ago I wasn't feeling the second one."

"Oh, well. There it is." Ephraim sighed, looking down at his hands for moment. "I'm really, really sorry I didn't get back for dinner."

"Oh, don't worry about it. It didn't really matter."

"Well, obviously it did. Maybe if I'd have been here we could have ... I don't know. Done something other than drink."

"Hey, I solved that whole little mystery case, and it never would have happened if I hadn't been at that bar."

"I don't even want to know." Ephraim said, sitting up and resting both elbows on his knees.

"Hell, not much good it did anyone." Andy said, almost to himself, continuing to fiddle with the ring.

"But hey, you've added to your ever-growing pile of useless knowledge, and doesn't that make you feel good?" Ephraim joked in his dry tone, and Andy laughed once hollowly, and then there was a weird little silence, and everyone got really serious. As though there were really nothing funny here at all. As though in the last thirteen seconds someone had died or something.

"No." Andy said quietly.

"What?" Ephraim asked.

"I don't feel good. I feel ... tired."

And the way he said it sounded tired, too. The way he said it made Ephraim feel tired.

"I'm tired too; we've been sitting out here pretty long, anyway-"

"No, not that kind of tired." Andy corrected him, and Ephraim looked down and nodded.

"Yeah, I know."

"Ephraim I feel ... useless."

"Dad, you're this great doctor ..." Ephraim said, almost mockingly, trying to sound non-chalet, trying to keep the conversation light and meaningless; that was the way he liked it with his father. At least for now.

"I went to the church, too, you know." Andy said off-handedly. As if he really expected Ephraim to know.

"No, I didn't." Ephraim said, wondering what he was getting into and if it was too late to get out.

"I went to the church." Andy said, and then he was just quiet. He didn't say anything. He just looked down at his wedding ring, and gave it another careful spin around his finger.

Ephraim just watched the rain for a few seconds, because he didn't think it had ever been easier to pretend you don't hear someone as when you're just watching the rain, but after a few seconds he just couldn't. He just couldn't ignore everything.

"Okay, Dad." He said, getting up. "I'm going to bed."

"Oh. Okay."

Ephraim turned and threw his hands up in frustration. "Dad, the day is over. You can go to bed too. Just go to bed."

"No, I think I'm going to stick around out here a little longer."

"Why?" Ephraim asked, feeling slightly annoyed.

Andy leaned up and put his elbows on his knees like Ephraim had. He hung his head and watched his hands, and he seemed as though he didn't even care if anyone else was listening.

"I don't mind it so much, Ephraim." He finally said. "It's supposed to be a good day, right?"

"No, not really." Ephraim said. "If she were around to celebrate it with you, yeah. But not now, not really."

"I'd like for it to continue being a good day. It's still a piece of something that was really good. It's still an anniversary of something that was really good." Andy said, and there was very little emotion in his voice. Ephraim supposed that whatever emotion he had about today had been totally zapped throughout the evening. A church. Jesus. His father had gone to church all alone, in the middle of a rainstorm. That seemed almost Unabomber. He didn't even want to know what he must have said, or thought, or done or ...

"If that's what you want, I guess." Ephraim agreed. "But you've got to promise me something."

Andy looked up, surprised. "Promise you something?" he repeated.

"Yeah. Because ... well, just because."

"What is it?"

"Okay; no matter what you think, or how long it's been, from next year on, I am going to be here for every single anniversary. All day."

Ephraim could barely believe his own words, because really, it was the last thing in the world that he wanted, but he knew it was actually really important for his dad, and he knew that it would never be something that Andy would be able to ask him for. It was too big, and his father seemed to think it was too early to ask for anything like that.

Andy looked up. He looked at him for a moment, as if to ascertain that this was actually being said, and then he just smiled. "Deal." He held out his right hand and they shook on it.

"I'm going to bed." Ephraim said, and he went inside.

Andy sat there a little longer. He smiled and re-played the last two minutes in his head, watched the rain and stopped spinning his wedding ring.

THE END

P461 9-20 all 22-32 evens

P468 7-15 odds 19-23 all &40

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