Darren, Male, 53

	- Narrator, retired, father of Gwen and Victoria (Vic)

	- 5'11, beige skin, 195lbs, cropped greying brown hair

Audrey, Female, 15

	- High school student, daughter of Duncan and Theresa

	- 5'9, pale skin, 135lbs, light-green eyes, straight auburn hair over her shoulders

Joyce, Female, early-80s

	- Wife of Herman, grandmother of Audrey, mother of Theresa

	- 5'6, beige skin, 115lbs, bobbed salt-and-pepper hair

Herman, Male, early-80s

	- Husband of Joyce, grandfather of Audrey, father of Theresa

	- 6'0, beige-olive skin, 180lbs, thin short gray hair

Duncan, Male, late-60s

	- Father of Audrey, husband of Theresa

	- 5'7, pale skin, 175lbs, dark-brown cropped hair

Theresa, Female, mid-50s

	- Mother of Audrey, wife of Duncan

	- 5'7, pale skin, 150lbs, shoulder-length auburn hair

Gwen, Female, 15

	- High school student, daughter of Darren, sister of Victoria

	- 5'5, beige skin, 130lbs, shoulder-length wavy black hair

Victoria (Vic), Female, 14

	- Eighth-grade student, daughter of Darren, sister of Gwen

	- 5'3, beige skin, 115lbs, wavy neck-length light-brown hair

We were up again around ten-thirty that evening. It was an odd schedule for me. I never much napped, and to sleep during daylight hours felt wrong. But it had been a very stressful few days, for many reasons, and I'd wanted to do nothing more than hold my young lover in her bed and bring her whatever comfort I could as she went through the difficult period following the announcement that her father was terminally ill and wouldn't live much longer.

We crept out of the bedroom together, clothed again, and nothing stirred. I didn't really know what we should do. It was too late to go anywhere, yet the claustrophobia that such sadness and distress could cause was sinking into both of us. Getting out of the house seemed to be something we each needed, if only to put some distance from those anguish-filled moments with her mom and dad and from the knowledge that cancer would take Duncan from Audrey long before his life should have ended.

Audrey grabbed us each a bottle of soda from the fridge and we left the house. I stood in the driveway a moment, uncertain where we were going.

“Want to just drive?” Audrey suggested.

“Yeah,” I replied, “good idea.”

It was chilly out, and I let us warm up in the rental a moment before I put the car in drive and backed out into the road. The navigation in the dash kept up with our location, but since I'd never been to Buffalo before, it was mostly meaningless to me. I just pointed us in a new direction from time to time and kept us moving.

Audrey was quiet. I took her hand in mine and held it tight. She started to cry. I pulled off of a main road into the parking lot beside a closed-down bakery, the sign in the window offering a number to call to buy or lease the building. The car still running, I pulled Audrey to me and held her while she sobbed.

It was only a few minutes later that a series of heavy taps on the window made me jump with fright. My eyes wide, I looked out the steamed-up window and could just make out a police officer standing in a cautious pose, one hand resting just above his holstered pistol.

I slowly rolled down the window.

His eyes cast inside, quickly scanning us, then he said, “Everything alright, folks?”

Audrey was still crying, but looking frightened, too. The sudden, unexpected appearance of the cop and his heavy tapping on the glass was quite unsettling. She looked both sad and scared at the same time. I suppose we looked like something awful might have been happening. In many ways, that was true, but not in the ways the officer probably suspected.

“Not really,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “She just found out her father is terminally ill... we needed to get out of the house for a bit... Not a fun day...”

The officer steadied his gaze at me. “License and registration.”

I slowly pulled out my wallet and handed my Texas license to him, then said, “This is a rental, not sure where the registration would be.”

He eyed my license a moment, then said without looking up, “Hand me your rental agreement.”

I found it in the glove box and passed it through the window.

The officer glanced up and looked at Audrey. “She have any id?”

The teen shook her head, “I don't have anything with me.”

“Step out of the car and come follow me,” he told Audrey, then said to me, “you wait right here.”

Audrey looked frightened, not moving, then I said, “It's okay. He's just making sure you're alright. I'll be right here.”

She nodded and finally got out of the passenger's side, closing the door softly behind her. The officer disappeared behind my car.

I waited, nervously. It wasn't that I thought the cop would get Audrey to tell all about us. But I'd never much enjoyed being detained by anyone. I'd never been arrested, but it still made me wonder what might happen.

A tap on the window a moment later was immediately followed by the passenger side door opening. I rolled my window down as Audrey got into the car and closed the door.

The cop pushed my license and the rental agreement through and I took them with slightly-twitching fingers. “Sorry for disturbing you, folks,” the man said, much more softly than before, “I hope things work out for the best.”

I nodded and he walked back to his car while I closed us back in the heated compartment.

“Did he ask you what was going on?” I said to Audrey.

She nodded, replying, “He wanted to know why I was crying, and who you were. I told him about Dad, but all I said about you was that you were a friend from Texas who had come to help us.”

“Okay,” I said. “Scared?”

“A little.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, taking her hand, “me too. Never fun to be have a cop asking you questions.”

She nodded, then said, “I suppose that's okay. He's just making sure nothing bad was going on.”

“You're right,” I replied. “Listen, why don't we go find something to eat.”

“Okay.”

I checked my map app to see what might still be open. Mostly, it was just sports bars, so I picked one nearby and drove there in silence. We pulled into a place called The Red Zone and went inside.

The place was half full, a few seats available at the bar along one wall, several tables empty on the floor in the main restaurant. Multiple televisions on each wall showed a variety of sports programs, including professional basketball and hockey as well as collegiate softball, a couple of others showing highlights shows.

The hostess settled us at a small table near the back of the place and Audrey and I sat down, ordering ginger ale and a scotch, respectively. I could see that Audrey's eyes were stuck on one of the screens and I looked up. The television showed North Carolina State batting against UCLA in the bottom of the seventeenth inning. I remembered that Audrey played high school softball.

“Gonna try out when you get to college?”

“Maybe,” she replied, “but I would rather play baseball.”

“Will they let you?”

“The school didn't here. But I practice with the boys sometimes, I know I can play.”

“What position are you?” I asked.

“In softball, I pitch and play shortstop. Just shortstop for baseball. I don't want to pitch.”

“I bet you're a good shortstop.”

“Why do you say that?”

I shrugged. “You're good at anything you set your shoulders behind.”

Audrey gave me a tired smile. “Yeah. I'm all-state the last two seasons. Might be Player of the year when this season ends.”

“I figured. I'd love to watch you play sometime.”

She stared at me. “My last game in May, if we make it far in the playoffs... maybe you can come up and visit?”

“I'd like that, but...”

Audrey frowned, “But you can't promise me.”

“Yeah...”

She grew silent a moment, then said, “They're recruiting me, you know.” When it was clear to her I didn't know what she meant, she added, “UCLA. They want me to come play softball for them. They offered a scholarship, but I don't need it. A bunch of others have given me offers, too.”

“Eyeing any?”

“Just one.”

“Which?” I asked.

“University of Houston.”

I watched her face, then had to ask, “Audrey... is that just because of me?”

She shook her head. “No, no... I've been thinking about it a few months. Before you. I like their biotech program, and their coach is pretty cool. He visited me a couple of months ago. I told him I wanted to play baseball, not softball, but she didn't take me seriously. I sent the baseball coach an email, but he hasn't responded.”

“I know a couple of people who work for UoH's athletics department,” I told her, “maybe I can ask around, see what they could do.”

“That would be so great,” Audrey said, looking slightly less sad. “I'm really good. I can hit a fastball. And the curve.”

“They'd be crazy not to want you.”

- - -

After our drinks and some sweet potato fries, I drove us home. We were both pretty weary. Inside, Theresa was sitting in the living room and sipping hot tea. She eyed us as we came in. “Aury, you okay?” she asked when she saw her daughter's face.

Audrey told her what had happened with the cop.

“She was crying. I was just holding her,” I assured the woman when she questioned whether we doing something worthy of being busted.

“Okay,” Theresa told us. “Give me a hug. Both of you. I'm about to head to bed again.”

We hugged her and then Audrey kissed her goodnight before we went back to the teen's bedroom. We stripped to nothing and got under the covers. Against me, her back to my chest, Audrey was asleep in minutes, and I wasn't far behind.

- - -

I woke from one of those dreams where things felt chaotic, disorganized, like I was behind schedule and failing to meet expectations. I didn't recall the details, but it shook me awake in the darkness. I could hear Audrey breathing evenly. We hadn't moved since we'd gotten into bed.

I started to stretch my legs and realized Audrey's nether down was tickling my penis. I wrapped my arm around her body and hugged her to me tight. She sighed and turned her head halfway back to me, “Darren...” she said quietly. Her hips shifted and I knew she felt the contact below. It made me pulse and begin to grow hard.

I humped against Audrey's butt very slowly, gently, kissing her shoulder, her arm, whispering my love for her in her ear. She started to stir and move with me. Moments later, her hand moved between us and her fingers guided my hard cock into her tight, little vagina.

Warm, wet velvet slid down my length, and I surged, stretching all my muscles at the amazing sensation. Audrey moaned as I sank into her, and her body yielded enough to let me fully inside. We began to rut gently, more kisses of her flesh, more sweet words. My fingers caressed her young breasts, the teen's nipples hardening and so warm against my palms. I slid a hand down between her legs and touched her sensitive clit. Audrey moaned, and for long moments she slowly built to orgasm as we mated with no rush.

Audrey started to cum, soft and sweet, not crying out or thrashing. She was quivering, “Ohhh,” and a high, loose moan escaped her lips, “oooohhhmmmmmoooohhmmmmm...”

I felt her vagina tighten around me. I'd been edging inside her for many minutes, and as the teen's creamy wetness spread over my length, I throbbed my semen into the girl's pussy, long, powerful streams of cum filling her small channel. I kissed her shoulder, holding there as I finished ejaculating, my pleasure tightly wrapped up in the heat of Audrey's vagina and her flesh and her soft, sweet moans.

We didn't move much, then, just small kisses and touches, her little hole tightly cradling my half-hard cock and letting it feel perfectly content inside her body as occasional drops of my cum drooled out and down between us.

- - -

We fell asleep at some point, and I awoke again to find myself alone in bed. It was after dawn based on the low light already glowing beyond the curtains. I stretched and stood slowly, feeling my age a bit that morning. The house was cool, so I dressed quickly and slipped out of the room to find Audrey.

The smells from the kitchen drew me quickly. Long before I stepped close enough to see what was being made, I could tell there was coffee and bacon, fresh baked goods of some kind, and a citrus as well. I stepped in to see Duncan wheeled up to the table, sipping coffee. He nodded at me quietly, then turned back to reading a newspaper. Theresa was pressing orange-halves into a juicer while Audrey pulled a hot metal container out of the oven.

My lover saw me and smiled. I dared to walk to her after she sat the pan aside and I gave her a quick kiss on the lips. It felt odd to do so with the teen's mother and father there, but it felt like the right thing to do. “Anything I can help with?”

“Nope,” Audrey told me, “It's about ready. This is one of Dad's favorites.”

Theresa put her hand on my arm and smiled, offering me a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice. I took it and sat at the table. Soon, a plate with bacon, blueberries, and a thick slice of steaming cinnamon-raisin bread was in front of each of us. We dug into the delicious breakfast heartily, even Duncan. The man ate everything before him and even accepted an offer of another slice of the sweet, warm bread.

“So the plan today is to forget the bad,” Duncan told us after we'd finished the meal, “and have some fun together. How's that sound?”

Audrey replied, “Okay. What will we do?”

“Do you know Euchre, Darren?”

“Vaguely,” I replied, “I know Spades.”

“Similar,” Duncan said, nodding, “why don't we play a few hands to get you up to speed, then let's play for real.” The man had a smile on his face.

“Sounds great.”

- - -

We spent the next few hours playing Euchre, then had fruit, granola, yogurt, and more of the cinnamon-raisin bread for lunch. Audrey broke out Pictionary and Trivial Pursuit when the snow started falling out of nowhere early in the afternoon. Long into the day, the four of us enjoyed each other's company and let the simmering sadness hang back, not wholly forgotten, but not pressing and insistent, either.

The night brought us a round of hugs and an early bedtime.

- - -

“Hi, Daddy,” Victoria's voice said into my ear from my cell. I was pacing slowly on the porch after breakfast on Saturday. The snow had stopped in the night and the day was warm enough to have it almost melted in mid-morning.

“How you doing, kiddo?”

“Alright. It still hurts, but it's better, I guess. Sucks, though.”

“Yeah, I know it sucks. Anything I can do for you?” I asked my daughter.

“Nope, just wanted to say hi. Aunt Viv got us tickets on a Monday flight.”

“Wonderful,” I replied, “I can't wait to see you girls. I miss you.”

“How is Audrey's dad?”

“Not well,” I told my daughter. I briefly explained things but tried not to give away how much sadness had been felt in the past few days. “I don't know what might happen, but for now, he's okay.”

“When are you going home?”

“Um,” I said. I'd been trying to deny that I'd have to leave soon. I felt a raw burn in my gut to think I'd have to leave Audrey to go back to Texas. “Not sure. I'll . . . What time is your flight getting into Houston? I'll try to be home by the time you get in.”

“Uh, around noon, I think,” Vic told me.

“Okay. I should probably see about getting me a ticket, too, then. Love you, Vicky.”

“You too, Dad.”

- - -

It was with numb fingers that I punched the purchase button on the travel site's checkout page. I'd booked the only flight which would give me as much time as possible in Buffalo and still get me home before the girls. It meant leaving for the airport around six in the evening on Sunday, getting me into Houston around eleven that night.

Audrey was sitting next to me in the living room while her parents napped. The teen's eyes were trembling, and her lips quivered. She knew it meant I was going home in about a day. As soon as I finished my purchase, I closed the laptop and wrapped Audrey in my arms. “Shhh,” I said, trying to keep her tears from flowing, “I promise we'll see each other soon, and we'll talk every day.”

“Twice a day,” she demanded, clenching her teeth to keep her composure, “and I'll send you twenty texts a day and a Facetime and if you have Skype, I'll—”

“I promise,” I cut her off. “You'll get sick of me we'll talk so much.”

“No I won't. I will never get sick of you.”

“You should talk to my daughters. They have lots of practice getting sick of me.”

That made her laugh, then we kissed before she replied, “So what do we do until then?”

My eyes met hers and it took no explanation for the teen to rise and lead me to her bedroom. In moments, our clothes were off and her mouth was sliding, gently, down over my shaft. Her soft lips felt amazing and I groaned in pleasure, giving myself permission to not think about the looming departure the following day. Audrey's head bobbed slowly and she seemed to be focused on every throb, every pulse which came from her attention.

I pulled her over me and she settled onto my body, my hard penis sliding into her tight, young hole. Her pussy was creamy, smearing my length as she rose and then slid back down. I caressed a puffy breast with one hand, Audrey's clit between my thumb and forefinger of the other. Our bodies moved together, our breathing in unison. Her chest was heaving, her mouth open, Audrey's eyes watching mine.

I began to shudder as Audrey rode me, and her toned body, quivering in orgasm, drove me to ejaculate into her in strong, invigorating pulses. The teen fell over me and our lips pressed together, her tongue passionately seeking out mine. I could hear her mewling, almost in pain, as if she was so afraid of us parting that it scared her. She sought out comfort in my arms, and before I grew soft, she began to move her hips again.

I couldn't stay full erect this time and slipped out of her, but I rolled her on to her back and slid down between her legs, using my tongue on her creamy slit, lapping slowly and gently along her thin, swollen lips to draw out the teen's lovely clit. I teased it, then circled it, dipping my tongue down into her vagina before drawing up my semen and her juices to make it slippery. Audrey came again moments later.

She curled into my arms on the bed and I cradled her quietly.

“Hey,” I said, having a thought, “any chance there's a batting cage around that might be open today?”

I could feel her stir. “Yeah. Probably. Why?”

“I dunno. I thought it might be fun to watch you swing a bat.”

Her head came up and she watched me.

“Sound like fun?” I asked.

She grinned, replying, “Yeah. But only if you take a few whacks.”

“Deal.”

- - -

Despite the snowfall overnight, the cages were free of the white stuff and were open on a Saturday afternoon. A few others were loading up pitching machines and swinging at the series of balls which exploded out of the chutes.

Audrey brought her favorite aluminum bat and a helmet with her. I picked up one of each from the concession stand, then stood back to watch Audrey in the batter's box. She hit from the left side.

I'd watched baseball all my life, much less so softball. Audrey's swing was full and powerful, surprising given her frame. She had a quickness I'd never seen in someone so young. Audrey didn't miss making some contact on every swing, and many of them were hit solidly into the red target zone of the netting on the far end of the cage.

The machine spit its last fastball and whirled down. Audrey ushered me into the cage and grinned.

“Nicely done!” I said sincerely. “Never seen anyone make that much contact.”

She shrugged, “just fastballs. And right down the middle. I wish this one did curve balls, but the place that has those machines is closed for repairs.” Audrey grinned at me again. “Your turn!”

It had been decades since I'd swung a bat. I played some baseball in middle school, but after those years, I only got a chance to swing at pitches a handful of times. It felt somewhat odd to be standing near the plate, staring at the machine in front of me as it whirled up and got ready to send a ball my way.

The first one whizzed by me before I could even consider swinging. I chuckled, then a second one went by unchallenged.

Audrey called from behind me, “You're supposed to swing, you know!”

I grinned back at her. A third ball flew by and hit the padded netting behind the plate. I steadied myself and got ready. The fourth ball spit out and I dragged my arms forward. I felt the bat make contact, but the ball just hit the plate hard and dribbled away to my right.

The next pitch fired towards me and I swung, hitting only air.

“Keep your hands ahead of your bat!” Audrey directed me. I smirked at her as a ball went by.

Turning back, I tried again, the next swing making better contact, sending the pitch almost straight up. I ducked out of the way as it came down.

A couple of pitches later, I made contact again, sending a hard line drive into the red target area, then did it again on the next pitch.

“Nice!” Audrey cheered me.

I fouled off a few then got ahold of one really good. I could feel my fingers stinging from the contact. A couple of more solid contacts were made, along with a lot of misses. Finally, the basket was empty, and the pitching machine wound down and grew quiet.

- - -

“That was fun,” Audrey said on the drive to pick up a late lunch after the cages, “and with some practice, you could probably hit more. You have a good swing.”

“I think you're being too kind, but thank you anyway,” I replied.

“Where are we going for lunch?” She'd directed my turns, but not said the restaurant's name.

“Dad's favorite wing place, Marty's.”

“I guess it makes sense that wings would be a favorite in Buffalo.”

Audrey chuckled, “Who doesn't like wings?”

“Good point.”

She looked at me, asking, “What flavors do you like?”

I replied, “Really, anything. Hot ones, teriyaki, honey mustard, jerk. Thai seasoned. Anything.”

“This place has the classic Buffalo ones, several levels of hot,” Audrey explained, “plus some crazy ones, like peanut butter and jelly.”

“Peanut butter and jelly?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Yep. They also have jalape�o habanero, cheddar cheese, mango chutney, and onion sour cream.”

“Do you mean the dipping sauces?”

Audrey shook her head, “No, the sauce on the wings. Or you could try the bacon-orange ones, or maybe the Five-Alarm Panic Heaters.”

“Uh,” I said, “I love hot food, for sure, but that last one worries me.”

“I eat them,” she beamed, “I like hot peppers.”

“Are they just hot, or do they actually taste good?”

She shrugged. “I like them. Kinda like the regular hot ones, but, you know, really, really hot. They claim it has ghost chilis or something, but they don't seem that hot.”

I laughed. “So you can eat hot foods. Is there anything you do which you don't go all in for?”

Audrey thought a moment, then said, “Not yet.”

I took her hand and squeezed it. “One of many reasons I love you.”

- - -

We picked up five dozen wings. A variety of the thirty-plus flavors they offered were represented, including the odd peanut butter and jelly.

Duncan and Theresa were hungry by the time we returned. It turned out to be an early dinner instead of a late lunch since it was already approaching five in the evening. Theresa had made a nice salad of lettuce, spinach, bacon, feta, and cucumbers, serving it with a slightly-sweet greek vinaigrette.

We dug in and pretty much destroyed the wings. It was great to see everyone eating well again, especially Duncan. It was easy to lose your appetite and not keep your energy up when depressed and during difficult emotional or physical challenges. Not a wing was left to pick at when we were done. I'd even enjoyed the ones smeared in a mix of creamy, sweet peanut sauce and some sort of berry jam.

Audrey had challenged me to eat one of the Five-Alarm Panic Heaters, and I did so while she did the same. Both of us were sweating and drinking several glasses of water afterwards, but they had been very tasty, a savory, salty chili flavor with a lot of intense front-of-the-mouth heat.

Audrey and I went for a walk after dinner. I tried not to worry about the fact that we held hands. If any of the few people who passed us in cars or on foot noticed and cared, no one made it obvious.

We passed the theater and came to a park around dark, sitting on a bench. Audrey leaned against me and we sat quietly, just watching a small fountain bubbling an impressive stream of water into the air to splash back down in the artificial pond.

“I wish you didn't have to leave tomorrow,” she said in a small voice.

“I know. I wish I didn't have to go, but I do...”

“Have you thought about what you'll say to Gwen and Vic?”

I shook my head. “No... I think you were right, what you said before. I'll just tell them the truth. They deserve that.”

“Yeah... It's what I'd want.”

I rubbed Audrey's shoulder as the air began to grow very cool.

“Will you friend me on Facebook?” she asked.

“Uh...” It was one of a million details we'd need to figure out. How we handled the way others had access to our secret relationship would make all the difference. “I don't think that would be wise...”

“If I promise not to tag you in anything, or to change my status, or stuff like that,” Audrey added. “I'm already friends with Gwen and Vic.”

“Maybe. I'm not on there much. Just to keep in contact with a couple of old friends from my childhood.”

“Like who?”

“Oh,” I replied, “a guy named Simon. Friend of mine from high school. Another guy, Kyle, from before that. And a woman, Jollette. She was my...”

“Your what?” Audrey asked pointedly.

“I probably shouldn't go there.”

“Tell me.”

“She was the first girl I ever kissed.”

“Oh,” Audrey said nothing to give it away, but her body shifted ever-so-slightly to put less weight against me.

“Please, don't be jealous. It was really innocent, and that was forty years ago, Audrey. She's a grandmother these days. Living in Oregon, I think.”

“Do you talk to her?”

“Not in a year or more. Just friendship, barely. Nothing more.”

“Oh.”

“Audrey,” I began, “this is going to be hard on us. On you. Being apart starting tomorrow. I need you to remember something. The past is the past. All that matters is right now, and right now, you are the only woman in the world for me. Please... don't be jealous of things in the past. They happened before I found you.”

“Okay. I don't mean to...”

“I know. It's fine. But if you start fixating on things like this, people like Jollette, you're going to go crazy with worry and jealousy. I have other female friends. I'm not sleeping with them. I'm not sharing my secrets and my love with them. Please remember that.”

“Okay,” she repeated, “I'll try.”

“And I promise not to get jealous when I see some stud in your school posting on your wall.”

She laughed lightly and tightened herself against me again. “I don't want any of them.”

“I know that, and that's how I know you can understand what I mean when I say Jollette and everyone else is the same to me.”

“Besides,” she continued her earlier statement, “They think I'm a tramp, right? Not like they want their buddies to know they want to be next with me. They don't say that to me publicly.”

“But I'm guessing they do in private?”

Audrey nodded. “All the time. I've had tons of boys ask me to go out with them, some of them are really explicit about what they want to do. A couple wanted me to give them blow jobs. I told them no, of course, but...”

“But you had to do it while letting them believe you still did those things all the time.”

“Right,” she confirmed. “I make it up as I go, and some of the stories I tell them... They're so stupid to believe them...”

“Well... maybe it's time to end that.”

Audrey shrugged, “I dunno. Only a few weeks left in school. Doesn't much matter now. I'm going to end going there in June, then it's summer break and I'll never see any of them again cause next year I get to go to a college prep school.”

That reminded me that we hadn't talked about something important.

“Are you going to go to Tokyo with your Mom in June?”

“What?” Audrey said, raising her head.

“Oh, I, uh... I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?!”

“Your mom is getting transferred again. She has to go to Tokyo the last week in June. I thought you knew.”

“What?! No, no one told me!”

I tried to calm her down but she was upset. Not crying, but agitated and soon pacing around me.

“What am I supposed to do? I can't go to Japan! I just can't!”

“Your dad isn't going, either.”

“What!?” It was one shock after another for her. I wished I hadn't mentioned it.

I briefly explained what Duncan had told me. Audrey collapsed beside me again, her tears coming as she became overwhelmed. “God, Darren... why all this at once? I can't take it!”

“Yes, you can. You can, Audrey. I know this sucks, but you are strong enough.”

“Doesn't feel like it... I haven't cried this much in forever,” she said, wiping her eyes, shivering. “I feel like such a girl.”

“Well, you are a girl,” I said gently.

“Not what I meant. Like, I'm mature. I'm a woman. Or thought I was.”

“Women cry, Audrey. Men, too. That's not a bad thing.”

“Feels weak. I hate crying.”

I consoled her with my arms and held her in silence.

- - -

We didn't stay much longer, so we walked back after she'd calmed a bit, finding Duncan and Theresa in the living room, the man in his wheelchair beside the oversized chair, the woman's hand in his on his lap. They were watching an episode of Hill Street Blues.

“Why didn't you tell me about Tokyo?” Audrey demanded as soon as we came through the door.

Theresa rose suddenly and looked at her daughter, “Welcome back, Aury, Darren,” she said, deflecting the question a moment. “Would you like some cocoa to warm up?”

I nodded, but Audrey was insistent. “What about Tokyo, Mom?”

Theresa held her hand up and said, “I'll explain in a moment, Aury. Let me get the cocoa first. You both look frozen.” I knew the woman could see that Audrey had been crying.

I sat on the couch quietly, not looking at Duncan or the screen. Audrey sat beside me, closer to her father than me. “And Dad, you're not going with her?”

He paused the DVR and sat quietly a moment. “I can't, Aury. Not now. She doesn't know that yet.”

“Know what?” The woman's voice said. She had stopped a few steps from the kitchen, cups of steaming chocolate in her hands. “What don't I know?”

Duncan let out a long breath. “I can't go to Tokyo, Dear. I think... I think you probably knew that...”

Theresa was still a moment, then stepped to the coffee table and sat the saucer and cups in front of me and Audrey. She sat down gently in the chair next to her husband. “I suppose... I suppose I knew it... deep down. I knew you wouldn't be well enough... That's why... That why I'm thinking of quitting. To stay with you.”

“You'll do no such thing,” Duncan told her. He nodded towards Audrey, “This one needs you for some time yet. What would you do, Hon?”

“We have money saved for her and for us. It wouldn't hurt us to go some months without an income besides your disability.”

“And that's how you want to spend that time of your life? Watching me die?” He sounded angry, and defensive.

“I... I don't want to leave you alone, Duncan. I can't do that.”

“Yes, you can,” the man said. He slowly pushed himself up from his wheelchair and took an uneasy step, standing in front of his wife and offering her his hand. She took it, eyeing him. Theresa stood slowly, facing her husband. Duncan continued, “There will come a time that I'm not me. I'm just a shell, waiting to stop breathing. It's gonna be painful for me, and I cannot bear having someone I love have to see that. Please, Theresa. I cannot bear the thought of you having to watch me die like that.”

“Oh,” the woman's voice was quavering and full of sadness, “Duncan...”

“Please, my love. Once it is time, I want you to go and not look back. My time is short. They gave me six months, but I can feel it, Theresa. I can feel I won't make it that long. Maybe not even before you leave. It will be quicker than they think. I know it.”

“God! Why?!” She screamed, wrapping her arms around Duncan's body. Audrey and I were both crying and holding each other tight.

“All I ask, is that when I decide it is time, you and I part when I say. I will not let you watch me waste away like that. It nearly destroys me that you see me like this, now.”

“Dad!” Audrey's anguish was deep. She pulled herself from me and rushed to hold him with her mother.

“And you,” the man said to Audrey, his voice surprisingly strong and sure, “will make a decision. Either go with your mother, or you could go live with your grandparents in Houston. Or, perhaps, we can discuss arrangements with Darren.”

I could tell that Theresa was struggling, and not just by the idea that she would move, alone, to Tokyo. But she said nothing, her tears soaking Duncan's shoulder.

“He's a good man. I can see how he cares about you. If he wishes to allow it, you may make your decision. But do it soon, so that your mother can prepare herself whatever way.”

The hug went long and many tears were shed that evening, but little more was said. My eyes were burning by the time I crawled into Audrey's bed. She hadn't asked, but I knew how I'd answer if she did. Of course she could live with me. In all the sadness, all the horrible emptiness in those moments, it was a warm light I could follow to keep me from feeling fully buried.