For a week after their encounter under the bleachers, Ephram avoided Amy like he would the plague. She did not try to approach him during school, but she did call the Brown household multiple times, looking for Ephram.

"It's Amy," Andy said, putting his hand over the phone. He smiled encouragingly at Ephram, who was doing his homework on the kitchen table. "You want to talk?"

"Tell her I'm busy," Ephram said flatly. Andy looked surprised at Ephram's unenthusiastic tone, but relayed the reply. After he hung up the phone, Andy Brown studied his son.

Ephram was busy all right, but certainly not doing anything productive. Ephram was staring moodily into his science textbook, not even pretending to read it. Andrew walked around the counter and sat at the table, his eyes never leaving Ephram.

"Ephram?" Andy asked. Ephram's back stiffened slightly.

"What?"

Andy hesitated slightly. "Is there something wrong? I mean, something you'd care to share with me?"

"What would give you the impression that I'd want to share anything with you?" Ephram asked facetiously, bringing his eyes to meet his father's. "Was it the fifteen years of silence or something else?"

Andy was used to Ephram's sarcastic lashings and did not falter. He could sense an underlying feeling of pain in his son and he was hoping Ephram would give him a chance to help.

"Not exactly," Andy finally replied. He brought his hands above the table and folded them neatly in front of him. "Just the fact you look like you've gotten your heart trampled on."

Ephram's head jerked towards his father, obviously surprised at Andy's intuitiveness. However, Ephram couldn't bring himself to let his guard down so easily. His eyes narrowed as he said, "How would you know?"

"Because you're speaking to a man who had his heart trampled on in the most horrible and permanent way," Andy said gently, and suddenly in Ephram's head flashed pictures, moments—memories—of his mother. His heart berated him, as if to say his father's pain in regards to his mother was much greater than Ephram's could ever be towards Amy. Quickly, the anger and tension left Ephram and he sighed tiredly.

"It's Amy," he said quietly, lowering his gaze to the table.

"I guessed," Andy said, a small attempt at humor. Ephram tried to smile.

"She's a strange girl," Ephram spoke softly, gently rubbing his hands together as he tried to think of the proper words to accurately describe his feelings towards Amy and love in general.

Andy nodded understandingly. "Go on."

"She's a beautiful person, Dad. Outside she's stunning and inside she's so complex. She's just seems to be everything you could want, you know?" Ephram risked a quick glance to Andy's face. "Or is that stupid?"

"It's not stupid, son, it's love. Or something very much like it," Andy said. "Would you believe me if I told you Amy's not perfect?"

"Yes," Ephram said without hesitation. As much as he cared for Amy, he put her on no pedestals. He had no fantasies about her being without blemish.

"Would you believe me if I told you your mother wasn't perfect?"

Ephram cringed inwardly at the use of past tense. Even though more that a year had passed, his mother's absence in his life was most definitely missed. "Yes."

Andrew smiled as he leaned across the table. "Would you believe me if I told you I thought she was?"

Ephram looked at his father quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I thought she was perfect when I married her, and to this day I still have believe it. Not that I presume that she truly was perfect in the most accurate sense of the word. She was---" Andy searched for the best explanation he could give. "She was perfect in the sense that she wasn't perfect… she had her faults and I had mine… but in her, her faults seemed so perfectly mixed up in who she was that I couldn't help but love her. Do you understand?"

Ephram thought for a moment before answering. "Yeah, I think I do… in some weird way."

Andrew smiled encouragingly. "Keep that in mind, son, okay?"

Ephram nodded and managed a smile himself. Andrew stood up from the table and wished Ephram a good night. He was almost out of the kitchen when Ephram spoke up gratefully.

"Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it," Ephram smiled, half embarrassed.

The reply was something Andrew never truly believed he'd hear. The past year and a half had been so violent and turbulent, with all the fighting and arguing. Those five simple words told Andy something somewhere was working right, for once. It gave him hope that one day he and Ephram would have a decent father-son relationship.

Andrew smiled and continued on to his room. Ephram's thoughts were now going fully into a different direction and rendered him unable to concentrate on his homework. Ephram closed his books and retired to his room. He lay down on his bed with his hands behind his head, just staring at the ceiling and thinking about his father's words. Eventually he fell asleep, the first peaceful sleep he'd had in more than a week.