I'm at a loss for a computer. I'm sorry. Hope everyone survives the end of the world! Come on, Mayans, right before Christmas? And, I know these are short, but, in my defense, the real story wasn't very long.

"Wish you'd stop bringing me here," Jack grumbled as they once again entered the Merridew household.

"You need to see it," Simon insisted.

Mrs. Merridew placed a smoked ham on the mahogany dining room table. It was laden with other food, everything from corn to pudding. She took her seat at one end of the table, and Mr. Merridew fixed his own seat at the other end. There was a vacant seat on his right.

"It looks good, dear," he said after a moment. Mrs. Merridew forced a smile.

"Thank you," she replied. It was quiet again.

"Have you heard from Jack?"

Mr. Merridew searched his wife's expression before answering. "No, not since the last time."

"Oh." Mrs. Merridew's shoulders slumped.

"Let's leave." Jack turned away from the scene, and gratefully Simon granted his request.

0000

"Where are we?"

"You'll find out."

Jack scowled. He wished that Simon would give him a straight answer for once. Instead, they were in an unfamiliar apartment. It was small and somewhat shabby, but at the same time strangely cozy. There was a tree in the corner of the room, facing the couch. A radio was playing softly in the background.

John was stretched out on the couch, a blond lady resting against him.

"What's wrong, honey," she cooed, kissing his cheek.

"Nothing," John replied.

"Yes, there is. What are you thinking about?"

"Just…one of the guys that comes to the bar."

"What about him?" She kissed him again

"He's really just a kid. Can't be older than twenty-one. I don't know. I just—I feel bad for him."

John feels bad for me, Jack thought, a sinking feeling in his stomach. The woman just made a face.

"John, it doesn't matter. You aren't even related."

Simon saw Jack's pale face. "We can go."

0000

Jack took one look at the building and tried to walk away; Simon grabbed the back of his shirt before he got far.

"Simon, don't make me do this." Through the window, he could see a laughing girl moving about. He shook his head, feeling sick. "Please don't make me do this."

"It'll be good for you."

Inside, a familiar family was sitting down to Christmas dinner. Lydia was beside her aunt, who Jack had only met on one occasion, but who had been quite the entertainment. Her older brother and his wife were seated across from her, and her younger brother had a girl next to him, even though Jack remembered him to be a bit strange. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Dinner was proceeding nicely until Lydia's sister-in-law asked a question.

"Dee, how about you; where's your beau?"

The room got quiet while they waited to hear her answer. Lydia looked down at her plate. She shook her head. "I don't—I don't have one."

"Well, why not," her sister-in-law pressed.

"I just…haven't found anyone that," she paused, looking out the window, "that compares."

"I don't want to see this." Jack said. He stalked out of the room, Simon following.

"Why," he called after him.

"Because." Jack rounded on him. "Because I know I screwed things up. With everyone. You don't have to remind me. Trust me, I know."

"Jack, do I have to spell it out?"

"Spell what out," he spat.

Simon heaved a sigh. "Maybe you could fix it? Hmm?"

Jack turned away, not wanting to face him.