Alex stood in the kitchen, stirring pancake batter, when the front door opened. A couple of moments later, Mike appeared in the doorway. "Oh, hi," he said.

"You were expecting someone else?"

"You don't usually cook. Where's Bobby?"

"I killed him and buried his body in the back yard."

"For the dog to dig up? Good thinking."

She laughed. "He's upstairs sleeping."

"How'd you manage that trick? On second thought, don't tell me." He opened the refrigerator and took out a carton of orange juice. "Are you two okay?"

"We will be. But you won't if you drink out of that carton."

"I won't," he promised as he opened the cupboard and took down a glass. "I'm not a caveman."

"We missed you yesterday. Bobby could have used your company."

"He didn't do so well around all those people, did he?"

"Not really. I wish he'd have said something when I talked to him about having the gathering here."

"It was your father's funeral. No one was more of a father to him than John was. He wasn't going to turn the funeral arrangements into a battle. He's tired of fighting with you."

"I don't like fighting with him, either. It's not good for either of us or for the children."

"Well, I'm glad you're working it out. "

"Where were you yesterday?"

"Carolyn let me see Sean for a few hours."

"And?"

"And what? I saw Sean for a few hours. Carolyn had a date and she doesn't know the guy well enough to be comfortable with him being around Sean. At least she trusts me more than a random date."

"So you didn't spend the night there?"

"No. Why would I? I stayed with a friend."

Alex gave him a look. "You have friends?"

"You're hilarious. Who's up?"

"Go see. They were all still sleeping when I got up."

"Since when are you the early riser?"

"Since I have children to feed and I'm not going to wake Bobby to feed them. Do you have any idea when the last time he slept was?"

"No idea. I thought he was in bed with you."

"In bed, yes. Sleeping, no. The whole past week is nothing but a blur for me. I know that I slept, but I don't think he did. At least, not since he woke up on Tuesday."

"Well, if that's the case and he's really sleeping now, he may be out for awhile."

"I was thinking the same thing, and that's why I didn't wake him."

He finished his orange juice, returned the container to the refrigerator and set his glass in the sink. "Need help?"

"Since when do you cook?"

"I don't, but I can do other things."

"I've got it covered, thanks."

"Okay, then. I'm gonna take a shower and change."

He left the room and she began cooking the pancakes.

It was late afternoon when Bobby finally woke. He lay in bed for a little while, trying to recall the events of the past few days. With few exceptions, his memory was hazy, at best. Finally, he got up, showered and dressed. Then he went searching for his family.

When he entered the family room, Maggie and Tommy charged at him with Zeus right behind them. Molly squealed happily and bounced on Mike's lap. Harry got up off the floor where he was building a fort with blocks and, though he didn't approach Bobby, he smiled and did not withdraw when Bobby moved closer, reached out and touched his cheek.

"Where's Alex?" Bobby asked as he sat beside Mike and gathered Molly into his lap.

"She went to get pizza for dinner. I think the pancakes did her in this morning."

"She made pancakes?"

"Yep, and the kitchen exploded. I helped her clean it up. I think she's better off leaving the cooking to you. You've got it down to a science. At least, I've never known you to get pancake batter on the walls."

Bobby almost smiled. "It won't hurt for Alex to cook. I won't be around forever."

Mike frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just what I said."

"Do you know something I don't?"

"I think you already know I'm not immortal. I have almost a dozen years on her...and a damaged heart. It's not rocket science."

"No, but it's also not something you bring up very often. You feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," he answered, turning his attention to Molly.

Mike watched him with a critical eye, not quite believing his claim that he was fine. But he let the matter drop. "Sorry I wasn't here after the funeral. Alex said you had a difficult time."

"It would have been difficult if you were here, too."

"Maybe not as much."

"Did you have fun with Sean?"

"Of course. We're on the same wavelength."

"Wavelength meaning maturity level?"

"You're spending too much time with your wife."

Bobby finally smiled. "Not true. Did you spend the night with Carolyn?"

"No. That's a thing of the past. She has a new boyfriend."

"So where'd you go?"

"I'll tell you where I wasn't—out on the pier. I still wonder about you sometimes."

"It's peaceful by the water and no one bothers me. I can just drink my beer and smoke and be alone. It's a good place for me to be when I'm troubled."

"I'll take your word for that."

"So, where were you?"

The question was asked out of innocent curiosity, but he paused for a moment before admitting, "I was at Denise's."

Bobby stiffened at that. "You were where?"

"I stayed with Denise last night."

Bobby had no idea what to make of that and he didn't know how he felt about it. "What...I mean, why...?"

"You haven't been able to go by to see her, so I stopped in to tell her what was going on. She sends her sympathy. She knows how much you loved John. We talked for awhile and after she got her evening medicine, she asked me to stay. So I stayed."

"How is she?"

"You want the truth or an answer that will make you feel better?"

"Can I have both?"

"I wish you could."

Bobby paused, bouncing Molly on his lap. "She had a doctor's appointment Wednesday," he said, feeling bad for not remembering to at least call and ask her how it went. "What did he say?"

"September 23," Mike answered. "That's the day they're gonna take the baby."

Bobby kept his attention on the baby, who smiled, clapped her hands and said, "Dadadada."

He played with her for a few minutes, until she decided she wanted to play on the floor. When she tried to slide from his lap, he gently set her down. Zeus came trotting over, licking her face. She laughed, then crawled away toward Harry with the puppy tagging along. They tumbled into Harry's block fort. "Hey!" Harry protested.

Zeus picked up a block and ran off with it. Harry scrambled after him. Bobby watched them with a small smile before turning his attention back to Mike. There was no trace of amusement left in him when he said, "So, she has a month left to live."

Mike nodded. "More or less, yeah. I'm sorry, man."

"How...how is she doing?"

Mike motioned at him, at the expression on his face. "About like that."

Before Bobby could reply, Alex came in the front door and the children all scrambled to greet her. Mike gave his shoulder a friendly smack. "C'mon. Pizza's here."

"You go on. I'll be there in a minute."

Mike paused, but left the room without saying anything more. Bobby got up and walked to the back window, looking out across the back yard without seeing it. He didn't move until he felt a hand on his back. He turned his head to look at his wife. Gently, she moved her hand over his back and softly asked, "Are you going to eat?"

"No. Not right now."

She could tell he was shaken, and she was concerned. "What's wrong?"

"They...They've scheduled Denise for a premature delivery. She won't make it to term. She...She only has a few weeks left."

Alex couldn't interpret his tone, and she couldn't imagine what he was feeling. She was certain he hadn't yet dealt with her father's death, and now this. "Oh, Bobby," she murmured, resting her head against his arm. "I'm sorry."

He didn't answer, and she knew he didn't believe her. But she was sorry, if only because it was another loss for him to bear. "Why don't you take Maggie to see her tomorrow?"

He pulled away and looked at her, and the same look crossed his face that she saw when she offered him the beer the day before. "Exactly what has changed?" he asked.

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know. I just...I'm trying to be fair to you. I'm trying to stop seeing her as a rival, to think of her instead as a friend. I don't want you to hate me for interfering with your good-bye. She's been your friend for a long time, and now she doesn't have much time left."

His dark eyes wandered around her face, his expression guarded. She took his hand and led him to the couch. It took some coaxing for her to convince him to sit beside her. He was on edge, confused and uncertain.

Once he was seated, she slipped her hand into his and slid closer to him. He didn't move away, but he didn't exactly welcome her closeness, either. Softly, she said, "I have done a lot of things wrong lately. I've been so angry with you and I didn't look past that. When you came home so messed up the other night, I began to see how I was wrong, and I realized that I knew better. Anger was never the way to deal with you. It only drives you further away, and I don't want that. I...I can feel you slipping away from me, and I don't know how to pull you back."

"So you turned to anger?"

She shrugged. "My go-to emotion."

He nodded. "Yeah, it is."

She slid a little closer, bringing her thigh into contact with his. "I don't know if I can change that; I've been like this all my life. But I'll try not to lash out at you so much. And I'll try to be quicker with the apologies." She waited for a reaction, disappointed when he had none. She tightened her grip on his hand. "In all the years I've known you, I'm not sure I've ever figured out your go-to emotion. You...You're easily hurt and you withdraw, but you don't lash out. Not right away."

He shrugged. "I try not to react emotionally right away, but you always go for the jugular and it hurts. You know exactly what to say to twist that knife. Yeah, I get hurt. But the only emotion I really connect with is anger, and I try hard not to unleash that on you."

"Until it overwhelms you and gets away from you."

He nodded. "Sometimes, I just don't know what to do with you."

She was quiet for a moment. "You're wrong about that, you know. About anger being the only emotion you connect with."

"Am I?"

"Yes. What about love?"

"What about it?"

"You connect with that on a pretty profound level. I mean, look at Maggie, how much you've always loved her."

"But...I don't have to connect with that. It's just...it's there. It's always there. I never have to go looking for it. It's become part of me, part of who I am. I don't have to think about breathing. I don't have to think about love, either. And it's not just for Maggie. It's for you, for the other kids, for Mike, for..."

He stopped, still not looking at her. "For Denise?" she offered.

"That just...snuck up on me. I never realized it. But...But she's not you. She doesn't..."

"It's okay," she interrupted softly, before agitation took over and the conversation got away from them. "I think I understand. I'm trying to, anyway. You have such a loving heart, and I have no right to try capping that. I trust you, Bobby. I mean, the whole time I was married to Ricky, you made me keep my vows. If I couldn't get you to step off that moral high road you travel, then I have no reason to believe anyone else will, either."

"Now you're wrong. You did get me off it. Twice."

"And look how much it still bothers you."

He shifted, restless. "There's no room for a second lover in my life," he said. "And I swore that I would be faithful to you. I gave you my word. That means something to me."

She nodded. "I know." After a pause, she asked, "Did my father really tell you that you loved me too much?"

"Yes."

"And what do you think?"

"I think he was probably right. But I can't feel any other way. Once I fell for you, there was no going back."

"And you just never thought to let me in on the secret until it was too late?"

"I thought...well, I thought there was time, but I didn't want to screw up our partnership. So I just...I tried to deal with it. I didn't do such a great job."

With a nod, she told him she agreed. Then she broached a more painful subject. "Before he died, Dad...put in a word for you."

"Oh? What word was that?"

"He loved you like a son, Bobby." She paused when she felt him tremble. "He...He told me to be gentle, to tread lightly instead of steamrolling your feelings. He wanted me to make it right between us, because he knew that I was the reason it went wrong."

"That...That's not true. There are two of us in this marriage and we both had a hand in driving it up onto the rocks."

"I know, but I was steering. And I'm sorry. I...He shook his finger at me and told me I've been mistreating you for years. And then he hugged me and told me that I was always the strong one, the one he never had to coddle, the one who was most like him..."

"The favorite," he whispered.

She nodded and choked back a sob. "I'm going to miss him so much."

He slid his arm around her and pulled her against him. She buried her face in his chest and he looked toward the ceiling, choking back his own grief, which had been so rigidly controlled. He dealt with grief his own way, privately. It was never something he shared with others, not even with Alex. Under the effects of powerful medication, he'd slipped a little after his mother died, but Alex never saw the extent of his grief. He wouldn't share this loss with her, either. She needed him to be strong and so he would be. When Denise died...he didn't even want to think about that. He couldn't think about it. Losing John was a stunning blow, and he'd managed to keep his grief at bay. He would deal with it someday soon, but it wasn't something he was comfortable sharing. So he held her while she cried again, steeling himself against his own profound feelings of loss.

Alex regained her control and sat back slowly. "I..." she began.

He shook his head. "You were close to him. It's okay."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Dad was important to you."

"Yes, he was. He was like a father to me."

"You loved him."

"Yes."

"Bobby, I haven't seen any grief in you."

He paused. "It's not something you need to see. You're barely handling your own grief."

"You don't have to be strong," she chided gently.

"I have to be...myself. I will...deal with it, in my own way and in my own time."

"And what do you need for that to happen? One bottle? Two?"

He stiffened at the accusation, and she knew resentment had forced her back to old habits. She grabbed his arm. "I'm sorry," she said. "I...I just wish I were as strong in the face of grief."

He shook his head as he relaxed. "No, you don't. It's much healthier to confront it, to deal with it and move on. You're a lot stronger than I am, Alex."

"I don't understand."

"I...I don't move on. I deal with it my own way, but I never move past it. Grief is something that stays with me. I'm not strong enough to let it go."

"So your mother..."

He shook his head. "I haven't...managed to deal with that yet."

"Bobby, all that grief is just going to eat at you..."

He shrugged. "I don't know how to release it. It's just...the way I am. You can't change me by telling me to change."

He had a point. "But...you know, it really does help, sharing your grief."

"I'm not so generous."

"You're impossible."

"So I've been told."

She sat there and looked at him while he looked back at her, and she felt her heart swell once again. Slowly, she shook her head. "What?" he asked.

"Damn you," she replied with a smile. "I love you."

His face softened for the first time. "I love you, too."

She leaned into his embrace and he folded his arms around her. Tough times lay behind them, but the road ahead was steep and rocky, too. He was going to need her in ways he could never imagine, and she would need him as well. The strength of their love would have to get them through.