Doggy Door

Retreating to her bedroom, Cindy closes the door just enough that she'd feel alone yet still be able to hear Kaylee if need be. Wandering to the bed, she looks at it for several moments before easing down on the side where Wes always slept. She runs a hand over his pillow - the pillow she'd cried into night after night, praying until there were no more words that he would come home soon.

She swallows the lump in her throat and stares down into her hands at the dog tags. This was what she had left. That was it. A name and some numbers. Her husband had been stolen right out from under her, despite how tightly she had clutched. Her efforts to stay strong - to wait - to have faith... it all seemed in vain now.

Reaching over, she lets the tags slide from her palm and onto Wes' pillow. It would always be his pillow. Not hers. His. This bed. This room. This house. Every coat of paint, every board, everything... it all had Wes' sweat, blood, tears and love in it.

And Cindy hated it.

...She didn't know how long she'd sat on the edge of the bed, not moving. Her mind felt blank. Her heart felt empty. Her body felt like dead weight being dragged around by sheer will of muscle without a spirit. She knew God was here somewhere. She knew He loved her. She knew that He would bring good out of this no matter what she felt right now. But in her heart...it was all hard to believe and hang onto that faith.

Hearing Kaylee wandering down the hall, Cindy knows she must rise. She must go on. She must. She would rather stay here and shut out the world, but she had a little girl that needed her, and it was her responsibility as her mother.

Out in the hallway, she scoops Kaylee up in her arms and takes her to the kitchen where they would finish the dishes together. It would be a quiet evening. Too quiet. Cindy knew she must tell the rest of the family about Wes as well, but she would do it in the morning. Tonight...tonight she wouldn't put herself through that.

And though the anguish felt too much to bear, hear eyes remain dry.


Dylan remains quiet, staring dully out the window as Dan drives. He wonders about all the food that was ordered, but has a hunch all four burgers weren't just for Dan. Once parked and being handed half the food, he finally turns and eyes the bag. His stomach hurt so badly, he wasn't sure if it was hunger or not. He did feel very thirsty though.

Accepting the second coke, he doesn't respond to the humor about Jade. It was probably true. Dylan knew she was protective even if they didn't interact much. Taking a long sip of the drink, the carbonation sliding down his throat felt good - better than he'd thought it would feel.

His eyes drift back to the bag again and his mouth waters. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he shifts sideways to lean his head to the side, resting against the seat. His gaze finally wanders to Dan, staring at him for a long moment. He was glad no one else knew about this. He'd rather show up and have an explanation be on his own terms rather than people having time to wonder and think up stories on their own.

"Good." His voice was raspy and he clears his throat. "I'm not convinced about how many people will be glad though."

His hand wanders to the bag of food and he retrieves a french fry. He nibbles on it slowly, but just that is enough to make his stomach crave more. He finishes the fry and reaches for another one.

"All my dad cares about is the work I do, and anybody else couldn't probably care less."

He takes another sip of his coke, and this time he reaches in the bag, it's a burger he pulls out. Unwrapping it carefully, he disassembles the sandwich to remove the pickles then puts it back together again. The first bite goes down easily, although he just hopes it will stay down. It takes him a moment to swallow and he leans his head to the side again, waiting for it to settle before trying another bite.

"Thanks... for coming and getting me though."


Though still swinging, Zach was listening carefully to Beth, a small smile remaining on his face. A light laugh slips out though at the thought of a young Beth stuck in a swing. "At least it was just a swing. I got stuck in a doggy door once."

His eyes widen a little. "Imagine me trying to explain that one when Dad got home from work. All he saw was my bottom half sticking out the door."


Justin pauses at the partially open door. He could see Jared inside, sitting up and eating lunch. It was a good time to visit. His mother had come and gone. There was nothing else going on today since he'd left Brookshire. He was man enough to go in there. It was only right. He'd thought about bringing Beth, but she was busy today and he knew he couldn't keep avoiding this. He could bypass his emotions to make this visit. He wasn't a child. And yet...

He sighs and finally taps a knuckle on the door before entering.

Jared looks up quickly and lifts an eyebrow with question. "Hi."

"Hi." Justin approaches cautiously before grabbing a chair and turning it around to sit backwards and lean on the backrest. His eyes study Jared for several long moments. The bandage was off his head, and he looked good for someone who'd been hit by a bus.

Jared fingers his spoonful of pudding, sensing an odd tension in the air. "Let me guess... you're somebody I'm supposed to know."

A small grin is the best Justin can do. "I'm your brother."

Jared's eyebrows rise even further. He'd talked to his mother about many things... but family was something they hadn't covered. Since she'd said nothing, he'd assumed she was it. "Wow... I have a brother? Really?"

"Yeah."

"Well, what's... what's your name?"

"Justin."

"Older or younger?"

"Younger."

"Mom, she... never said anything about family."

"Yeah. I, um... I asked her not to talk about me," Justin admits. "I didn't want to have too much thrown at you all at once." That was a good enough reason for now. If he couldn't throw a punch at Jared's face, then staying away was all he could do.

Jared nods a little and eats more of his pudding. He didn't really understand, but if his family had wanted it that way, then maybe it was best. "I... guess I don't know what to say."

"That's alright." Justin shrugs. "I know it's probably awkward. Feeling the pressure of everyone expecting you to recognize people you don't remember... maybe a little embarrassed, even though you shouldn't be. It's gotta be weird having someone you don't know say they're your family. Understandable though, and perfectly normal."

Jared blinks before his eyes narrow inquisitively. "You a shrink?"

"Counselor."

"Ah."

Justin sees his brother aiming for his bowl of fruit, but shakes his head. "I wouldn't, if I were you."

"Wouldn't what?"

"Pineapple. Your face will swell up like a balloon... won't be able to breathe... hives... pretty nasty."

Jared's eyes were wide again. "Okay then. Allergic to pineapple. I'll have to remember that, um... thank you."

"Yeah." Justin didn't ever think he'd be warning his brother about food allergies. There were definitely times he wouldn't have minded watching Jared suffer. But seeing him now... with that blank stare that said he was clueless about everything... watching him suffer didn't seem so fun.

Jared clear his throat, breaking an awkward silence. "So... any other sibling hiding out?"

"No. Just us."

"Oh. What about a dad?"

"Uh... he died... when we were kids."

"Oh." Jared was sorry to hear that. "How... how did he die?"

"Car accident. On his way home from work. Early. To pick me up for a fishing trip."

Though the whole conversation was ultra matter-of-fact, Jared senses the suppressed emotions in Justin's voice. "Wow... that's... that's tough. I hope you didn't blame yourself."

Justin just stares at his brother. He had wanted to hear that for how many years? And it took Jared losing his memory to actually say it... to not blame him outright for their father's death. And Justin couldn't even be mad at him. Standing up, he puts the chair back in its place. "I gotta go."

"Oh." Jared is a bit disappointed. The rest of the day would be awfully quiet. "Okay well... nice seeing, um... meeting you."

Justin looks at him for a moment and just nods. "Later."

Left alone, Jared stares down at his pudding. Why couldn't he remember?