-

Mom came home three days later, on a Thursday. Charlie was home then, at least, even if home meant sitting at the dining room table, red pen and test papers in hand. Don wished his brother would have gotten up, at least greeted Mom at the door.

Mom didn't seem to care. In fact, Mom insisted on sitting at the table instead of the couch and Dad wasn't convinced that was a good idea.

"I'm not make of china, Alan," Mom insisted. "I want to sit with Charlie. I always do the crossword when Charlie grades papers."

Charlie looked up at that and smiled. "No hints, Mom."

She laughed and let Don pull out a chair. "It's not a hint if you can't spell the answer correctly."

"I'm insulted. My spelling is just fine."

At least Charlie was speaking to Mom. Now that she was home it was easier to pretend she wasn't sick, and Charlie seemed more at ease. But Mom wasn't fine. She was weak and pale. Don could see it as she reached for paper and her hands shook ever so slightly. How could Charlie ignore it? Don decided that trying to understand his brother, the genius enigma, made his head hurt.

Besides, he had a few of his own headaches to deal with.

He and Dad made their way into the kitchen. Dad filled the teakettle and placed it on the stove.

"I'm going to move back to LA."

Dad turned. "You don't need to do that, you know. Your mother's just getting settled. She, the doctor, everyone, says we need to go on with life. Besides, Charlie's here. You have a job and a life in New Mexico." The words "and it's one that doesn't include us" dangled in the air, but Don knew his father would never say them. He didn't have to; Dad always had a way of making his message loud and clear. "Although, it wouldn't hurt if you called more often."

Don felt guilt stab at him. While Mom was probably the guilt champ, Dad was no slouch. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Charlie wouldn't come back to the hospital. You do know that Charlie doesn't believe she's that sick. I don't understand him." Don busied himself getting down some mugs for tea. "I have a meeting at the FBI field office later this afternoon. I'm planning on heading back to Albuquerque this weekend, but I should be back in time for Mom's next chemo session on Tuesday. None of us can pretend this isn't happening, Dad."

Dad turned the burner on, and for a second there for only the sound of the flame flickering to life. "I know. Your mother has this very sunny, optimistic attitude that makes you want to believe it will all be just fine. And frankly, I can't think it won't be."

"And it could be. Or it could not. I need to come back. I think I'll find my own place, but if you don't mind me staying here in the meantime..."

"You're always welcome here, Donnie. How could you think otherwise?"

"Mom boxed up my stuff. I haven't spent a night here in, well, I'm not sure I remember."

"Doesn't matter when the last time you came home was. The door's always open. What about Kim? You said it was serious. Just how serious is it? Grandchildren serious?"

Don couldn't help grinning a little. Mom and Dad had a one-track mind, it seemed. "I gave her a ring."

"You did? That's wonderful! You should tell your mother." Dad turned to head back towards the dining room table, but Don stopped him.

"Dad, not so fast. I'm still moving." He hoped his father might get the hint. "I'm not sure she will."

Dad was quiet a minute. "Don-"

Don shook his head. "Not changing my mind. Please don't tell Mom. Or Charlie. Please."

"All right," Dad conceded. "But, Donnie, when you love someone you make sacrifices."

"Yeah," Don said with a sigh. "You do."

--

"You're more than welcome to come. I mean, I know you can't right away, but..."

Kim was quiet, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. To Don, her silence spoke volumes.

"Either way, I'm going. I have to."

Kim started walking away from him, pacing the living room in her bathrobe. She lifted a hand and chewed on the end of the fingernail of her thumb. She only did that when she knew things were serious, or when she was deeply involved in a case.

"Yes, I guess you do," she finally said. She stopped in the middle of the room, lowered her hand and lifted her head. "My life is here. I always thought I'd move on, that Albuquerque wasn't going to be forever."

For a brief moment, Don felt a small flicker of hope. But he knew what was coming next. Kim wasn't one to drop everything for love, and that's one of things he appreciated about her. Work was a passion. Plus, Kim had never met Mom. There wasn't any connection and in twenty-twenty hindsight there was no one to blame but themselves. He hadn't asked and she hadn't pushed.

"I can't do it, Don." She ran a hand through her hair. "This is it, then. This can't work."

"Kim. I love you," he tried, but to him it sounded weak. It was true, but love wasn't enough to let him abandon his family.

"I know." She shook her head. "But you're not staying. You love your family more."

"Kim, that's not...this isn't a choice." He walked closer to her, gripped her shoulders.

She moved away from his touch. "That's actually what it is! And I hate it and that's what makes a bitch because your mother needs you and all I want is for you to need me more." She closed her eyes. "But I can't move. I can't. I understand why you need to go, but I can't."

"I don't want to end things this way," he said. "Please don't-"

"No. I could say I'd wait, but I'm over thirty. And who knows what's in LA." She started playing with her engagement ring. "Both of us are married to our jobs anyway. Maybe this is for the best." She pulled the ring off and took his hand. She opened his palm, placed the ring in it, and folded his fingers around it.

The metal felt cold to him and he handed it back. "Keep it. You never know..."

She looked down at the ring. "I can't make promises, Don."

"I'm not asking you to. But it's yours." He didn't want her to hand it back. If she held on to it, their connection remained. The spark lasted a little longer.

"Okay," she agreed, her voice soft. "When are you leaving?"

"Monday. I'm leaving the furniture and I'll take care of the lease. We can work out the rest of the details over the next couple of weeks."

She nodded. "I should help you pack then."

Two weeks later, Don was moving boxes from the garage into his parents' house, when he got mail from New Mexico.

There was no return address on the envelope. No note inside.

Only a diamond ring.

--