(A/N Hi everyone, I'm back from vacation. This is just a little something. Next chapter will be better. But for now I hope its okay. Thanks everyone who has reviewed. Once again I own none of the characters from The Breakfast Club)

I paid for my can of yams and headed home. During the drive I had some time to think. John Bender. That was a blast from the past. Honestly I am surprised he remembered me. I suppose none of the five of us ever would truly forget that Saturday in detention. It was a sort of therapy that made us realize we weren't alone with our troubles and problems.

I don't know what I expected Bender to be when he grew up. In prison I guess. He hardly seemed like the same guy. Then again while six years isn't an eternity it is enough time to change and get your act together.

I hadn't been back to Shermer since I my undergrad years. The tension with my old man had gotten to bad once I stopped wrestling and decided to study law. Whenever I was home I wasn't really home. I was at the theater, the mall, walking in the park, or wherever I could go to avoid the disappointed look that would begin to guilt-trip me. Since he didn't come to my graduation I just stopped coming home. It hurt my mom. I know it did although she never said anything. I think maybe she felt relief that I didn't come home as well. Now driving the Shermer streets things were coming back to me. Seeing Bender Hadn't helped either. He stirred up memories that would have been best forgotten. Hell the whole town had when I arrived but this was different, I was thinking about them, the Breakfast Club.

I was thinking about them so much I almost drove past my house. Stopping I threw the car into reverse, backed up the fifty feet or so and into the driveway. "Mom, I'm back." I called walking in the front door.

"In the kitchen Andrew."

"Smells great in here," I remarked sniffing the air. With the turkey it smelled more like Thanksgiving dinners while growing up instead of a funeral. I gave her a hug and handed her the bag.

"It does smell good doesn't it? Well go get cleaned up and change out of you suit. Then if you wouldn't mind setting up the TV trays we can eat in the living room. Your dad would have a fit knowing that we weren't going to be eating at the table but since it's just the two of us I thought it would be less depressing to eat while watching the movie of the week," she said as she dumped the yams into a bowl and popped them in the microwave.

All I said was "Sure." What else was there to say? I wanted to ask her where Jeff and Elaine were. I had thought they were going to have diner with us so mom wouldn't be alone tonight. Then there was eating in front of the TV. Mom was right, there would have been a fit thrown if it had been suggested. My old man was the type who believed that families should have dinner together unless there was a sporting event on. If mom had suggested it he would have told her how we would all grow up to be delinquents. This maybe was a bit of her own way of stretching her wings.

I changed into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt I found in my old bedroom. As I put it on I had a flashback of kissing Allison. Closing my eyes to the memory I pulled my shoes back on and went downstairs to set everything up for dinner. Carrying two plates heaping with food from the kitchen she came in and sat on the couch.

"Do you have time this evening to help me sort through some of your father's things?"

"Why?" I was surprised that she wanted to do this already.

"No point in waiting while there are people out there who can use his clothes. I wanted to wait until Jeff had some time too but Jeff is so much taller than your father I doubt he will want anything. Plus there is a nice woman from the shelter coming. I called her yesterday about coming to collect everything before the weekend."

"What woman? What shelter? Mom don't you think you are going a bit fast?" I didn't think I would feel like this about my mom clearing him out of her life so quickly.

"Andrew. I have to do it eventually why not now? People who need a pair of pants or a shirt need them today not in six months. Plus the longer I put it off the harder it will be for me to do this."

I didn't know how to respond so I didn't. We sat watching a boring movie about a woman running from her evil twin sister in silence as we ate. Once we were done I carried our dishes into the kitchen and put the leftovers away. I heard her climb the stairs to begin the task of gathering up his things for charity. It wasn't long before I joined her. By the time the evening was over we had two hefty bags full of things.

"If you could be here tomorrow when the lady comes..."

"Of course I will."

"I think she will do you some good too. She is also a bereavement counselor."

"I don't need..." I started to say but she cut me off.

"You might not think you do but I know how your relationship with your dad was and it might help you too." She laid her hand on my shoulder. I was there to support her but there she was supporting me. Funny that now my dad was gone we were more the way a family should have been. My mom who was always sort of stand-offish from us boys seemed closer now he was gone.

"What time will she be here?"

"We discussed two o'clock. Now you aren't going to go hide are you?"

"No, I'll be there." I said.

She then stood gave me a kiss on my forehead. "You get a goodnight's sleep. And remember regardless of how he acted Andrew, he did love you." With that she left. I wrapped a twist tie around the mouth of the last bag and turned off the light and went to my room, fell into a deep sleep and didn't wake until the birds chirping outside signaled a new day.

I got out of bed and found another pair of sweatpants and some old running shoes and went for a jog. I shouldn't have I didn't wrap my knee so after about two miles it was aching. It was the pain that distracted me. As I ran across the street I heard brakes squeal and felt the bumper against my leg.

"Hey watch where you are running I could have killed you," yelled a feminine voice that rang with familiarity. Looking up through the windshield of the red jaguar my eyes met the deep brown ones of one Claire Standish.