Donna slept very little that night. After an hour or two of tossing and turning, she pushed off the covers and made her way quietly down the stairs. She went over to the piano, her fingertips grazing across the perfect ivory keys.

Pulling out the dark wood bench she was flooded with memories of Damon when he was younger. They had been so close back then. She tried to pinpoint the moment things changed. It was silly to blame one moment in time on a chasm that came between them. Donna couldn't help but think that if she could figure out when and where things had changed maybe she would feel better.

She opened the top of the bench and sifted through the dozen or so pieces of sheet music and found something to play. She picked up sheet music for The Way We Were. Somber and regretful, it was fitting for her mood.

Not seeing Damon for God knows how long was going to be unbearable. Despite his frequent outbursts and bizarre fashion choices, he was still her little baby. Underneath it all, Donna could picture the little blue eyed boy who used to run to her when she appeared at day care to pick him up. His smiling face peering up at her as he handed her a picture he had drawn. And somewhere in the steamer trunk at the foot of her bed the pictures were still there.

It was for his own good. He needed this. It was tough love, something that had to work because their normal love just wasn't cutting it.

She opened up the sheet music and placed her fingers on the keys. It took only a few notes before she escaped into the melody. Once again, she was amazed that the beautiful tune was controlled by her mere touch.



Blake listened in the darkness of the bedroom. At first, he thought it was Damon. He slid his hand across the bed and realized it was his wife. He rolled over and kicked the blanket off. He went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. There would be no sleeping tonight. All he could do was shower, get dressed and join his wife in what would be the longest night of their lives.




Damon smoked a joint, huddled in the back of his closet. His parents didn't even know about the safe place in his closet. He had only found it on accident. He'd thrown something at the back wall of the closet, a basketball or something like that. Immediately, he knew he'd gone through. Panicking, he shined a flashlight to see the damage. But when he looked closer, he saw that there was a small room behind the wall. It was a very cool find. A secret little hideaway just for Damon. It became his safe place. He'd brought a girl home one day when both of his parents had been gone. They shared a joint in his little room and then shared a little bit of each other. His first time and her, how did she put it? She had lost count. He didn't care one way or another. He hadn't been in love so it was no skin off his nose how many guys she had been with.

Tonight he lay on the quilt in his secret room, staring up at the American Flag that he'd stolen from the VFW building last summer. The thought of those old dudes demanding justice for whoever stole their stupid flag had given him something to smile about for several weeks.

His parents had been so damn weird tonight, like they were hiding something. Maybe one of them found out they were dying. That would suck, but it would explain the Norman Rockwell attempt at family dinner earlier.

By the time his high had worn off, he crawled out of the closet and flopped down on his bed. His sheets smelled so bad it almost made him gag. If he actually took them off and asked her to wash them she'd probably start weeping because she thought he was getting out of this phase. His mother blamed everything she didn't like on a phase. Damon rolled over on his back and sighed. He closed his eyes wondering when she would get out of her nagging phase.