It was a small funeral. Bobby spent the Mass holding Maggie in his lap, comforting her and trying to quietly answer her questions. Alex, cuddling little Molly, was once more grateful for Maggie's ability to distract and refocus her father's attention. The little girl prevented him from dwelling on his mother's death. There would be time for that later, when Alex could focus on him.

On Bobby's other side, Carolyn entertained Sean with a little teddy bear and Mike held Tommy, who quietly watched everything going on with interest. Jimmy and Angie Deakins were there, and so was Denise, along with some of the staff from Carmel Ridge and a few of Frances' friends from the old neighborhood, women Bobby had not seen since he was a kid.

After the graveside funeral service, Father Patrick, who had been Frances' favorite priest, announced that the family would be gathering at John Eames' house, extending a welcome to any mourners who wished to join them there for lunch.

As Bobby spoke briefly with Denise, Alex looked around for Frank, but she did not see him. If he was there, he did not make his presence known. She couldn't decide if it would be better if he had not showed up or if he had and remained out of sight.

They spent the drive to John's house trying to answer Maggie's questions about Heaven to her satisfaction. By the time Alex pulled into the driveway, Bobby had a headache but Maggie was finally convinced that Gramma was in a better place and her brain was no longer sick.

Alex took Tommy from his carseat and set him on the ground. He ran toward the house and climbed onto the porch as the front door opened. John had beaten them there by about ten minutes. He gathered his youngest grandson into his arms and hugged him. "Go on inside to Aunt Reggie and get some grapes, Tom."

Tom clapped his little hands. "Gapes! Yay!"

John stepped off the porch and reached out to lift Maggie up, grasping her crutches with one hand as he settled her in his other arm. "How is your leg, Princess?"

"It's good, Grampa. It doesn' even hurt no more."

At the front door, he looked back as Alex pulled out of the car with Molly and closed the door. Reaching in through the open passenger window, she ran her hand over Bobby's hair and walked toward the house.

John set Maggie on the couch and turned to take Molly from her mother. "Is Bobby all right?"

"Yes. He just needs a minute."

"How is he feeling?"

"He's getting better, just slowly, especially for him. It's driving him crazy," she smiled. "And of course, he shares the wealth."

John laughed. He studied his daughter as images from the past few years flickered through his mind. "This time, honey, you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into."

She nodded. "Eyes wide open, Dad."

With a chuckle, he slipped Molly out of her snowsuit and laid her in the playpen in the corner of the room. The baby sighed in her sleep. John felt a deep satisfaction, seeing his Alex settled into a happy marriage with a man she loved so much, a man he had come to love like his own. He had never doubted Bobby's devotion to her. Whatever happened, John had no doubt that Bobby would take care of Alex and their children.

Bobby leaned his head back, absorbing the quiet and willing his head to stop throbbing. He breathed slowly and as deeply as he could. He shifted his position and the pain in his knee flared. He cursed out loud, angry and frustrated. Shoving the door open, he got out of the car and grabbed his cane, resting it against the car.

Shoving his hand in his coat pocket, he pulled out a prescription bottle. Staring at the label, he felt his anger and frustration boil over and he threw the small bottle as hard as he could at the garage door. The inertia of his throw knocked him off balance, causing him to catch himself with his injured leg. He stepped quickly onto his other leg, shifting his weight before his leg gave way.

Limping back to the car, he leaned against it, swearing as he gathered himself. Slowly, he limped to the garage to retrieve the pill bottle. Returning to the car, he dumped two pills into his hand and tossed them into his mouth, swallowing and shoving the bottle back into his pocket. He brought his fist down into the door of the car.

"Why so angry, Bobby?"

Surprised by the voice that came from the end of the driveway, he turned. "Frank? What the hell are you doing here?"

Frank stepping onto the driveway. "Father Patrick extended the invitation to join the family. I am family, so here I am."

Bobby frowned. "You—You were at the funeral?"

The elder brother twitched his shoulder. "She was my mother, too."

Bobby felt his anger growing, expanding in his chest and eclipsing the pain in his body. "Why didn't you talk to me, let me know you were there?"

Frank moved in closer. "Why wouldn't your wife let me talk with you last night? Then maybe I'd have been more comfortable talking to you today."

"Don't drag her into this, Frank. Our problems don't have anything to do with her."

"You never told me you got married, that I have nieces and a nephew!"

Anger boiled toward rage. "Why should I have?"

"Because I'm your brother!"

Bobby struggled to get past his fury and evaluate Frank's condition, but he couldn't keep his anger out of his voice. "How'd you make it through the funeral, Frank? You couldn't bother to go see Mom while she was alive. How does that make you feel?"

Frank still maintained some semblance of a control that was slipping from his brother's reach. "I try not to feel, little brother. Looks to me like you could use some help with that, too."

Bobby trembled and his balance faltered. He grabbed the side of the car and pointed angrily at Frank. "I don't need any help from you. What did you take, Frank? How fucking stoned are you now?"

Frank's mouth turned up into a sneer. "Hard to tell any more, Bobby?"

"Damn it! Just get the hell out of here! I don't want you and your shit around my family."

"I am your family!" Frank shouted back at him.

"They are my family!" Bobby snarled, jabbing an angry hand toward the house, again knocking his balance off. His full weight crashed down on his injured leg, which somehow held, but pain shot like a white hot rod through his knee and into his hip. His mind was numb with rage, though, and he barely felt the pain. He moved toward Frank.

In the house, Tommy was digging in the toybox that was nestled between the wall and the couch, searching for a favorite toy. Maggie watched him, casting her gaze toward the front door every few seconds as she waited for her father to come inside. It was sure taking Daddy a long time to come into the house, and she began to wonder if something was wrong with him. Getting up from the couch, she grabbed her crutches and hobbled to the window.

There was someone at the end of the driveway, but a big tree blocked her view of anything but the person's legs. She watched her father talk to the person, and she grew alarmed. Something was very wrong. "Mommy," she called, trying to keep her voice calm so she wouldn't upset her brother.

Alex came out of the kitchen and crossed the room to Maggie's side. "What is it, baby?"

She pointed, quietly saying, "Something's wrong outside. Daddy's really mad."

Alex looked out the window and muttered under her breath. She grabbed her coat as she hurried out the door. Maggie looked around the room. All the adults were still in the kitchen and Tommy had climbed into the big toybox, still digging around for his elusive toy. Hurrying toward the door, Maggie pulled on her jacket and followed her mother out of the house.

Frank looked past his brother as Alex stepped off the porch and walked toward them. Bobby stopped barely a foot in front of Frank, his eyes blazing. Frank had done many things to anger his brother since they were little, but he couldn't recall ever seeing such rage in Bobby's eyes. Stepping away from the car, Bobby shoved Frank, hard. "You have some nerve, showing up here like this!" Bobby growled, his voice low and dangerous.

If Frank's mind had been clear, he would have recognized the tone and backed off. But the drugs clouded his judgment and he swung a fist toward Bobby's head. As his fist contacted Bobby's temple, Alex shouted, "Enough!"

Rage blocked every sense in either man's head and neither of them heard Alex's shout. Behind her, Maggie watched in horror as a man she did not recognize hit her father. She scrambled forward, fear for Daddy's well being eclipsing everything she should have felt and driving her normal good sense right out of her. She moved past her mother, who was stunned for a moment at Maggie's sudden appearance. Alex lunged for her just a second too late. "Maggie!"

With a sobbing cry of "No!", Maggie threw herself between the fighting men. She only barely heard her mother shout her father's name over the heavy breathing and grunts that were so much closer. She felt something heavy hit her head, and she cried out. Sounds became muted as Maggie turned toward the stranger who was trying to hurt her daddy. She felt something inside her she had never felt before—something she could only describe as red. Without thinking, she dropped one crutch and gripped the other the way Daddy was teaching her to hold a baseball bat. For all she was worth, she swung it toward the stranger until it wouldn't move any more and she felt herself falling. She hit the side of the driveway and slid on the ice into the snow. Then, the red was gone, and she hurt, and Mommy was holding her, checking her over and asking if she was okay. Her voice sounded funny, like she was trying not to cry, but her eyes were very mad. Maggie just nodded her head and Mommy hugged her tight.

Beyond the mother and child in the snow at the side of the driveway, Bobby stood by the back of the car, still trying to understand what had just happened. Several feet behind him, Frank was kneeling near the sidewalk, staring in disbelief at the little girl who had stepped into the fight to attack him with a miniature crutch.

Fury once again gripped Bobby's mind, unfocused and barely restrained. He turned on his brother and in a low, threatening tone, he growled, "Get the fuck out of here, Frank, or I'll kill you."

Frank looked into his brother's face, and in spite of the drugs coursing through his system, a modicum of sense oozed into his brain. Rising cautiously, he backed away from Bobby to the sidewalk, then turned and hurried away from the house.

Bobby turned back toward his wife and daughter. He was trembling from a combination of adrenaline and unresolved emotion he had no idea what to do with. He couldn't force himself to move. His right leg was numb from his hip to his calf, and his brain was numb as well. He couldn't piece together the last few moments; everything was a blur. The fight with Frank, Maggie's sudden appearance between them, Alex grabbing him and then disappearing...

He stared at the two forms beside the driveway. His trembling worsened as fear edged into the mix, and he found it hard to catch his breath. He leaned heavily against the car; everything seemed so distant. One thought finally slipped past his shock into his fevered mind. Maggie...Alex...What have I done now?