When Walter told Paige that he was going to take a walk, go to Megan's stone, she asked if he wanted her to come along. She was a bit surprised at how quickly he said no.

When he left, she wandered through the house. Louise had excused herself to run into town to make sure all of Sean's monthly subscriptions were stopped. "It's so overwhelming, all the things you have to remember to do," she'd commented. Paige had offered to come with her. "No, darling, thank you, but he's my husband. I want to take care of his things on my own."

Paige understood. She'd been the same way when her father died; she'd just wanted any measure of control.

When Louise left, she washed the dishes from their stew meal, and cleaned the countertops and table. Then she mopped the floor, although it seemed like it had just been done. She wondered if it was a confirmation that Louise hadn't slept the night of Sean's death.

Sylvester was in the living room, a photo album on the coffee table. As Paige sank down next to him, she noticed that all the pages seemed to be baby and toddler photos of Megan.

Sylvester looked at her. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Are you okay? You seem a little aimless."

"Yeah, I'm fine. I did some house chores. Place is pretty clean."

"I can't imagine what she's going through right now. We all lost Megan. You're not supposed to bury your child. And then just a couple years later, she loses her husband, which, I mean, given that she's younger than him and women are expected to live longer, she would have probably expected this would come eventually, but...I don't know how she's doing it. I hope she has people that she can talk to, here."

Paige folded her arms. "And if she does, I hope she actually does talk to them."

Sylvester flipped to the last page in the photo album – photos that included a three year old Megan holding a tiny baby in her arms and sometimes grinning broadly at the camera, sometimes kissing the baby's forehead. Paige smiled.

"It's crazy to think about how much of their lives they lived before us. How many things that happened that we'll never know about because they don't even remember, or they just don't think to tell us."

Paige stiffened, and Sylvester looked at her again, furrowing his brow. "Paige, what's the matter?"

"I'm just a little frustrated."

"With Walter?"

"No..." Paige shrugged. "I mean yes, but not in the way that I want to yell at him. I just..." She leaned back against the couch. "You know what, Sly? Don't worry about it. This man was your father – in – law. You need to focus on you, and on Louise, not on me feeling sorry for myself."

"No," Sylvester said, reaching over and grabbing her hand. "How many times have you listened to me? I want to listen to you."

Paige sighed. "I guess I'm frustrated because Walter won't open up to me about this. He's acting differently. This bothers him. And he keeps brushing me off when I try to get him to talk about it." She pulled her knees up to her chest. "I love him so much, and I want him to feel comfortable talking about these sorts of things with me." She hesitated. "He used to worry that he wasn't good enough for me. But if I'm not being that person for him, then I'm the one who isn't measuring up. I want to put as much effort into the relationship as I know he does, and we go, Sly. We go so well together. But a relationship is work, and this...this is clearly one of the areas that I still need to work on. But I don't know how."

Sylvester was silent, then shifted his weight so he faced her as well as he could with them both sitting on the couch. "Paige, I've known Walter since I was a teenager. And I can't say I know him better than you, at least not anymore, but I do know that he trusts you above anyone else on the planet. You remember that when Megan passed away, he pretended he was fine for over a month. And when he did break, he broke on you. His sister was the most important person in his life and he grieved her in your arms." He squeezed her hand. "Maybe he still hasn't worked out how he's feeling. He can't tell you what he doesn't know. But when he does figure it out, I'm sure he would tell you before anyone else."

A small smile played over Sylvester's face as he walked up behind Walter. "I thought I might find you out here."

He didn't turn around. "I didn't lie about where I was going. I told my mother and Paige I was going to walk over here."

And Paige had told him, but Sylvester didn't think that Walter needed to know that. Hecame to a stop next to the older man, and they stood in silence, staring down at the stone. "Walt?" Sylvester asked after a moment as he glanced at him, feeling nervous. "We're brothers, right?"

Walter looked confused. "Well, yes."

"So me expressing concern for you is not out of line, then."

"No, I wouldn't say it would be out of line," Walter said. "Though I must confess I'm not sure why you would be concerned about me."

"Well...it's Paige."

"Paige." Walter looked worried. "You're concerned about Paige?"

"No, she's concerned about you. She can tell that you're having trouble dealing with this - and don't tell me you're not, Walter, I know you – and she's upset that you aren't talking to her about it. She just wants to be there for you."

Walter was quiet, looking down at his feet. "She is. She doesn't realize how much she already helps me."

"She's normal, Walter," Sylvester said. "She thinks of these things in the way that she would respond to them. She would have so many feelings swarming around in her head, and she'd be desperate for someone she could confide in. She's gone so long without having someone like that that she's developed the ability to go without – and sometimes she genuinely believes she doesn't want to talk about things when they bother her. But deep down, she wants a person like that. And she has you. You're that person for her and she wants to be that person for you." He pointed to the stone in front of them. "Meg was...Meg was that person for me."

Walter stayed silent. "Look, you don't have to tell me what you're feeling or why you are or are not talking to Paige about it," Sylvester said. "I just know she's worried and she doesn't know how to help you. So if you're needing her to help you, as difficult as it may be, I think you need to take the initiative and tell her."

There was another long silence, and Sylvester decided not to say anything more. He didn't like meddling in Walter and Paige's relationship, especially when it wasn't in trouble. But he missed Megan. He missed her terribly, despite the fact that they had loved each other without reservation and without regret. He knew it was more difficult – much, much, much more difficult – for Walter to understand what he was feeling than it was for him. But he'd give anything to have Megan at his side when he struggled. Walter had Paige. She wasn't going anywhere. And Sylvester knew very well that when grieving, having someone you love to lean on was an invaluable resource.

They stood together in silence for a long time, until the shadows grew long and the sky developed the orange tinge that signaled sunset. Then Sylvester kissed his fingers, leaned forward to touch them to the stone, and turned to begin the walk back to the house.

"Walter, it's so late," Paige said as he appeared through the bedroom door, disappointed at how much scolding came through in her tone. "If I didn't know where you were I'd have been so worried."

"I'm sorry." He closed the door, frowning. "I'd forgotten there's no lock on this thing."

"Walter, I'm serious. It was all I could do to not come after you."

"I just needed some time alone," he said, crossing the small room and sitting on the end of the bed, tugging off his socks. "With Megan. I...I know she's not there. But for some reason...it feels nice to be at her memorial. It's like the beach back home, because we used to go there."

Paige sat next to him, rubbing his back like she had back at the garage. "Memorials can carry a lot of weight. It makes perfect sense."

"I still miss her," he said. "She was such a constant in my life. I never had to doubt her. I could be myself around her, I..." He shook his head. "I was raised here. Everyone here is Catholic, and I don't even believe in God." He looked at her. "Paige, I know that you do. But I just think it's all a sham, designed to manipulate people into behaving the way the people in power want. But it's times like these that I wish it was all real, because then I'd know she's looking over me, and I know that I'd see her again. But I won't." He looked at her. "I hope that when I speak of how important she is to me, you don't think that takes away from how I feel about you."

"No, Walter, no," she said, her hand still on his back, her other hand coming up to rub his arm reassuringly. "You know that Ralph is the most important person in my life. That doesn't mean I wouldn't do anything for you. That doesn't mean I can't tell you that I love you with all my heart. It doesn't mean that I can't be terrified of ever losing you, on a job or otherwise. Humans have an incredible capacity for love, and for grief, and for every feeling in existence. And we're all human."

He smiled at her, then cleared his throat. "I should go to the bathroom and get changed for bed."

Paige watched him go. He hadn't said a word about his father. But he was starting to open up again. It was a start.

When he came to bed, she scooted to the side, giving him room. "Is this okay?" She asked, sliding her hand across his stomach. When they'd first gotten together, she'd been pleasantly surprised to learn that he loved cuddling, loved wrapping her up in his arms or getting wrapped up in hers when they slept. But he'd been acting so non responsive the past few days, she wasn't sure if he would want so much contact tonight. But he nodded in response to her question, and she moved in close to him.

Next chapter is going to have a full blown heart to heart. It should be up tomorrow.