2 weeks later…

He walked in with that forlorn, puppy dog look in his eyes. He had a coffee in one hand and a Dunkin' Donuts bag in the other. "Bacon, egg and cheese bagel and a vanilla latte. That'll be ten bucks, please."

Her students were still outside waiting for the bell to ring and the school day to start. Norma appreciated the alone time with Norman. "Not on your life, sweetie. Boyfriends are supposed to pay."

"Is that what I am?"

"I thought so."

The ridiculous grin on his face gave her a pang of something. Guilt? She couldn't be sure; she just knew it wasn't akin to the indifference she usually felt. A blush crept up the nape of Norman's neck. "I'm glad I am. I just didn't realize…"

Norma rose from her desk and took the bag and coffee from him. "You're so cute." Her lips brushed his. She pulled back before he could grab her and lead her into another. "Are you gonna stay here?"

"For a little bit, yeah. Dylan wants me to go see my Dad. I haven't decided if I want to yet."

"You should. He's your dad."

He smirked. "Norma, I know you haven't known me long, but I can't even begin to explain why that's a terrible idea."

"Try."

He clicked his teeth and ran a palm down the front of his white dress shirt. Norma noted that he'd started dressing better since they'd met. She was endeared by the gesture. "Norma, my father was terrible to me for a long time. I'm not gonna afford him friendly visits."

"I get it, Norman. Better than you think."

"Then don't tell me to do something I can't do. Like Dylan does."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. And don't be hard on Dylan. He cares about you."

"He has a funny way of showing it." He sat on the edge of her desk, his gaze trained straight at her, cutting right through her skin. For a second, Norma thought that maybe he could see her ulterior motives. Until he relaxed and shrugged. "I hate my dad. Hate him. And I have a hard time letting go of what I wish our relationship could've been. He never gave me what he should have."

"That's clear, honey. I'm just saying, closure…"

"I don't want fucking closure! I want him out of my life. And I want everybody to stop treating me like I'm wrong for that."

She actually flinched at that, so surprised she was by the fiery nature of his fury. This kid was wound up tighter than a drum. Norma knew how to navigate him, but at the same time, he seemed infallible. "Okay, Norman. Okay. I'm just trying to help."

"Well, you're not, you ever think of that?"

The bell rang and the sound of children rushing in overtook their senses. Norman moved away from her desk and leaned against the wall, watching silently while her classroom filled in little bit by little bit. She crossed the space between them and rested her hand on his cheek. He could feel the beady pairs of young eyes fixated on them and cleared his throat. "Norma."

"I don't care. I need to tell you this. I like you, okay? I like you and I want you to be okay. That's it. You understand?"

He swallowed a rush of emotions and nodded. "Yes."

She kissed him hard. A chorus of 'oooo's' sounded out around them. Norman tried to push her away, but ended up groping at her instead. She ended it after a stretch of seconds and turned to the class. "Children, this is Norman. And you'll probably be seeing a lot of him."

"Hi, Norman!"

He caught the eyes of his niece, who sat in the middle seat in the third row. Her posture was stock still and she was barely smiling. He felt himself blush. "Hey, guys. Sorry you had to see that." Norma tugged on his hand and Norman glanced at her, his cheeks still holding onto his embarrassment. "See you later?"

Norma winked. "You got it. Bye, baby."

He couldn't breathe. The world crept in closer with every mile he crossed between the school and the county jail. His head was throbbing and tears were gathering in his eyes. This was it. The decision he'd been too scared to make for himself. The journey he'd let Dylan and Norma talk him into. He thought of his mother in that far off memory, screaming and frantic, begging the police to save him. The tears fell then, just as the prison itself came into view.

This was it.

His father looked like hell and Norman found some satisfaction in that fact. There were large bags under his eyes and a haunting darkness to his pupils. He seemed afraid. Norman thought he deserved that little taste of his own medicine.

Sam sat immediately, though Norman could see him contemplating a hug. Perhaps it was Norman's sharply disapproving glare that shut him down.

"What's going on, kid?"

This place was unnervingly grey and it reeked of sweat and shame. Norman wanted to run, but his legs refused to respond to his brain. He glanced at the guard standing in the corner of the room. The man only shrugged and held up five fingers. As far as Norman was concerned, five minutes was five minutes too many in his father's presence. "Same old, same old." He replied.

"How's your mom?"

"She's fine. Dylan's fine. Dani's fine. Van's fine. I'm not fine."

Sam looked down at his hands on the table top and fidgeted. His handcuffs clinked on the marble. Norman swallowed hard as he watched his father sink back into old habits of denial and avoidance. "Typical."

"I don't know what you want me to say, Norman."

"I want you to tell me why. That's it. Then I'll go and never come back."

"Norman…"

"Tell me, you bastard."

Sam bowed forward in defeat. Norman could see him battling himself, trying so hard to say nothing. Soon enough, he sighed and looked back up at his son. "You were a terrible kid. You never slept. You had to be forced to eat. You started fights with your brother. You were hard to deal with."

Norman laughed without humor. "I was a fucking kid. Some kids are like that. Others aren't. Doesn't give you the right to treat me like you did."

"I know that."

"Clearly, you don't. You know what? This is pointless. I don't need to argue with you. The damage is done." He spun on his heel and headed for the door. The guard moved to open it for him. Sam's voice rang out behind them.

"I'm sorry, Norman."

"It's too late."

The façade burst in the car. Tears ran freely and he banged the butt of his hand against the steering wheel over and over, all the while wailing into the emptiness.

He wanted a drink. Longed for one. Self-destruction tempted him and he ached to give into it. Still, he dialed Norma's number, his breath coming in sharp gasps and his hand throbbing and his soul begging him to leave it alone. She answered on the second ring. "Hey."

"If you don't want to find me dead in a ditch, meet me at the liquor store."

His apartment was sparse and horribly colorless. Norma couldn't say she was surprised at the amount of gloom, but it still hit her hard. This guy was well on his way to drinking himself into oblivion in his dank, tiny apartment and no one would ever know. He could disappear if he wanted to and he was probably counting on no one missing him.

Norma turned to address him, only to find that he had taken to leaning against the refrigerator r in an effort to keep himself relatively upright. "What happened, Norman?"

"I went to see my dad." His words were jumbled and twisting around each other.

Norma clenched her jaw at the stench on his breath. "I'm guessing it didn't go well."

"No." He giggled and lifted himself away from his perch to close the minimal distance between them. "He's a bastard. Always will be. I don't need his apologies and I don't need his approval."

"Of course you don't."

His eyes narrowed. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not, Norman. Look, I think you need AA or something. Your drinking is a problem."

"Screw you. I'm a grown man. I can do what I want." His hands latched onto her hips and pulled her in tight to his chest. "I can touch what I want." His mouth touched her pulse point and began to sink lower.

"Norman." It came out on a whimper. "Norman, stop. You're drunk."

"So what? You're so beautiful and I want you so bad." Those wandering hands raised the hem of her skirt and found their way underneath.

Norma warmed at his insistent touch, but felt herself resist further. "I don't want to take advantage of you like this." She grabbed at his waist. "Norman."

"It's okay, beautiful. I don't care. I don't care. I just want you. Right now."

She kissed him, frantically grasping at his hair and his cheeks. He led her backward until she collided with the front door, the air being stolen from her lungs and forcing her to break the kiss. Norman groaned and tugged at his belt. Norma went for his shirt, only to have him stop her. "No. No." He said. There was a hard crack in his voice that Norma didn't know what to do with. "Leave it."

She obliged and relaxed in place, allowing him to settle into her body again. "Whatever you want, Norman. Whatever you want."

He started coming to a while later. His body was numb and his eyes refused to focus, but he could hear Norma's voice. A slight, painful movement showed him that she was in the hallway, one hand braced on the edge of the door, the other clenched around her cell phone. "I'm so sorry. Something came up. I'll make it up to you."

Norman struggled to make sense of it as he readjusted himself closer so he could hear better.

"Honey, it's okay. No, you didn't do anything. I was just out with a friend and lost track of time. She got really drunk and I had to take care of her, but I'll see you in the morning."

Norman burrowed himself into the pillow again. His eyes were still heavy. He was slipping back into sleep.

Norma said one more thing. "I promise."

He actually awoke awhile later to find Norma sleeping soundly beside him, her arm slung across his waist. A smile graced his lips as he stood, only to sway on his feet and groan at the pain in his skull. His bare feet padded on the tile. He paused for a second, his eyes trained on Norma's cell phone sitting on the bedside table. Shaking his head, he decided against the urge to snoop and went to the kitchen. Early morning light slanted through the shades and Norman blinked hard against it. His brain was still fogged with the hangover, but he managed to get all the supplies he needed for breakfast out of the fridge.

Bacon, eggs, sausage. Grease that he could count on to suck up the alcohol that was sliding through his veins. He grumbled under his breath and got to work, finding himself soothed by the distraction. He couldn't keep thinking about Norma's phone call. It would drive him nuts.

"Norman?" Speak of the Devil.

"I'm in here." The sound of his own voice for the first time in hours startled him.

Norma came around the corner grinning. "Breakfast? Well, aren't you hospitable?"

"I need the grease to soak up the alcohol." He threw a little smile over his shoulder so she knew he was teasing. "You thought this was for you? How self-centered."

"Shut up, you ass." She came to stand behind him and pressed both hands into his lower back, sliding them up slowly to rest on his shoulder blades. "Are you okay?"

"I will be. Don't worry. You can go if you want."

"I don't want to." She kissed the space between his shoulders and sighed into him. "You're a mess, you know that?"

He breathed in the heavy scent of bacon and nodded. "I know."

She fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt. He tensed at the touch, but Norma didn't extract it. She wanted to see how far she could push before he gave in or yelled in her face. When she started to raise it away from his skin, Norman shook her away and turned on her, his countenance full of genuine fright. "Don't."

"What don't you want me to see?"

Norman eyed her up and down and swallowed a hard lump in his throat. "You don't know how hard this is. To be hiding like this. But, I have to. You're too perfect to be exposed to what I am."

"You think I'm perfect?"

"I know you are. You deserve better than me."

"Norman, this is your father talking, you know that, don't you?"

He blinked. "It doesn't matter."

"It does, Norman. It does. You're too insecure to see that I don't care that you're not perfect. What's happened to you doesn't define you. Stop letting it."

He went quiet and Norma tried again, her hands out in front of her to clasp onto his shirt. She lifted it slowly and Norman let her, though she could feel him shaking, terrified of her dismissal. Once it was over his head, she tossed it to the side, all the while keeping her eyes on him. He was scarred everywhere. Long, white pieces of raised skin across his pectorals and his stomach. And, a surgery scar right down the center of his chest. She touched that, first. "What's this?"

"Splint in my heart. It was put in when I was a kid."

Her finger rode the line of his ribs up to a scar that sloped over his shoulder blade and lower. "Turn around."

He did as she said and took the opportunity to click the stove off. Norma smirked at that tiny detail and went back to her inspection. The damage on his back was worse. She could tell that most of these were fresher and probably more painful. She felt a sudden surge of hatred for Norman's father. "You didn't deserve this, okay? No one could ever deserve anything like this."

He dropped his head and pressed one hand against his eyes.

"It's okay, Norman. It's okay." She slid her arms around his waist and hugged him into her. "It'll be okay."

"Will it?"

"I swear it will."

"So…"

Norman's head shot up the sound of Dylan's voice. The café was relatively empty, but Norman had taken to studying the humanity around rather then become the focus of Dylan's scrutiny. It hadn't worked as well as he'd hoped. He longed to know what Dylan thought of his recent endeavors. "So what?"

"Dani told me that you and Ms. Calhoun are getting along."

Norman let himself smile at that. He had to seem at ease or Dylan would see right through him. "Yeah, we are."

"I'm happy for you, Norman. Really, I am."

"Thanks."

"Hey, why don't you invite her over for dinner? I'm sure Van would like to know her a little better."

He blew air out through his mouth and gave his brother a look of disbelief. "I don't know."

"Why not?"

"Cause…cause all of this is brand new. I don't want to rush her into anything."

"Norman, she's already met Van and I. It won't be as weird as you're thinking. I promise."

"I like her, Dylan."

Dylan leaned across the table and smacked lightly at his brother's cheek. "I know you do, dweeb. That's why I'm trying to be supportive. Will you just invite her over?"

Norma leaned back against the edge of the picnic table, her gaze intent on the children in the playground. The sun beat down hard on her back. She squirmed in momentary discomfort and glanced around for the student she wanted to talk to. "Dani!"

The little girl stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of her name. Once she realized its source, she ran for the table, showing her teeth in a radiant expression of glee. "Hi, Ms. Calhoun."

"Hi, sweetie. I need to ask you something. Sit down."

She jumped into the spot beside Norma and beat her little hand against her knee. "Yeah?"

"How's your uncle?"

"He's good. He's out with Daddy today."

"Is he? Can I ask you something else?"

The little girl nodded. "Okay."

"I wanna know about your grandma. Is she…nice to Norman?"

Dani shrugged and looked out toward the other kids. "Sometimes. She got my grandpa awrested."

Norma's surprise painted itself into her expression. "Your grandpa is in jail?"

The girl gave an affirmative motion. She seemed uncomfortable, but Norma wanted to keep pushing. She put her palm on the girl's thigh, causing the sleeve on her jacket to shift up and show off a big bruise on her forearm. Dani stared at it hard and Norma could see the recognition and the sadness. She almost felt bad. Almost. "What's that?" She asked quietly, her already little voice choked down to a whisper.

"Who told you about your grandfather's arrest?"

"Uncle Norman. What's that?"

Norma pressed two fingertips to the injury and sighed. "I ran into a door. It was an accident." She put those same two fingers to Dani's cheek. "Hey, look at me. You can't tell Uncle Norman about our talk, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good girl. Very good. Now go play and forget about this."

He waited till lunch with Dylan was over before he dialed Norma's number. He sat in his car, staring out at the bustle of people in the shopping center. The café was filling up now and Norman studied its patrons, laughing, talking, so at ease in their own skin. Maybe it was an illusion, but it hit him in the guts all the same. After four rings, Norman was about to hang up. That's when Norma finally answered. "Hey, you."

Just her voice brought elation to his face. "Hi. Um, I need to ask you something."

"Anything." She said sincerely, her gaze still following Dani's frantic, rambunctious movements on the playground.

"Would you maybe want to come to Dylan's house for dinner tomorrow night?"

"What?"

His nervousness was palpable, even across a phone line and a dozen miles. "You don't have to. Dylan just thought…"

"I'd love to."

That stunned Norman into silence.

"Norman? You still there?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm just surprised. Happy, of course, but surprised." He gave a little laugh. "All right, so my mother will be there. And Dylan and his wife and Dani, of course. Oh, and my best friend Emma."

"Your best friend is female?"

"Yes. Why? Are you jealous?"

She could hear the amusement in his tone. "Extremely."

"Don't worry. Emma and I don't engage in too much PDA."

"I hate you."

"Haha. No, you don't."

Norma allowed herself a smile. "I have to go. Recess is almost over."

"Damn it. All right. I'll see you later."

"Yeah, you will."

"Norma?"

"Yeah, baby?"

His windpipe suddenly clogged up with the strength of the emotion he longed to express. In the end, he decided against it. "Nevermind. Bye, beautiful."

"Bye."