Alvin closed his eyes. For a moment, he thought he could hear Brittany's musical laugher…smell her luscious, auburn hair…feel her soft skin.
Alvin had wandered the streets of Los Angeles for hours…now, exhausted, he collapsed against the wall of an old, industrial building.
"I have to visit her…I have to see her one more time…I owe her that…"
With difficulty, he began walking again-his destination: home.
"You bastard!" Brittany screamed at Leon, throwing the bouquet he had given her onto the floor.
"I came as soon as I heard, Brittany!" Leon replied, bending to pick up his flowers.
"Why didn't you come to the hospital to see me?" Brittany crushed the bouquet beneath her foot.
"I did not know until this morning. Besides, even had I known last night, how would I have known to which hospital you had been taken?"
"Just shut up, Leon! Just shut up! It's six PM! What were you doing between now and this morning?"
"I was-"
"You were romancing a girl, that's what you were doing! I know I'm not the only girl you go out with. I don't know why I even put up with you…at least Alvin was...semi-loyal."
"Brittany! How could you say such a thing? I only have eyes for you, Brittany!"
"What about all those times I called and a woman answered? What do you have to say about that, Casanova?"
"It must have been my mother!"
"Oh, really? You must have a damn lot of 'mothers,' then, Leon…it's not always the same voice!"
"Please, Brittany…"
Before he could finish, she slammed the door shut in his face.
"Go to hell, Leon! I never want to see your slimy face again!"
Dave's eyes filled with tears as he stared at the chipmunk's family portrait; they stood together, arm-in-arm, genuine smiles across their young faces.
"Can it ever be like this again?" Dave's voice cracked.
He tenderly set the photograph back on his bedside table.
"Please come back, Alvin…please…"
"He will, Dave," said Simon, standing in the doorway.
Dave smiled.
"Of course he will, Simon. I'm just a little sad right now."
"What did you and Alvin talk about, Dave? Why did he tell you to go to hell?" Theodore asked from behind Simon.
Dave sighed.
"Come and sit with me, boys. Let's talk."
Simon and Theodore sat on the edge of Dave's bed and looked up at their adoptive father expectantly.
"I told Alvin that I thought he was acting different lately," Dave began softly. "I said that I thought maybe he was getting restless…I thought maybe he wanted his own career…without you guys. I suggested we talk about it, all four of us, together. Alvin didn't want to. I…I realized I had to stop beating around the bush; I told Alvin outright that I thought he had been acting selfish and inconsiderate…of course, it just went downhill from there. I'm sorry, Simon, Theo. It's partly my fault Alvin ran away. I should have handled the whole thing differently."
"It's not your fault, Dave," Simon put his hand on his father's knee. "It's mine."
"Your fault, Simon?" Dave looked down at his son, surprised.
"Yes. Alvin attempted to make up with me; in my anger, I acted rashly…" Simon halted. "Oh, Dave, I'm sorry…"
Dave put his arms around his sons.
"It's alright, boys. It's going to be alright. We'll find Alvin…I promise."