It was a Saturday morning.

Dodie was sleeping at Nona's, Palmer was at college, and Regina had had the house all to herself. She opened her eyes and the first thing she saw was Adam lying in her bed. She smiled and put her hand on his chest, then closed her eyes again. When she'd dropped Dodie off last night at Nona's, she immediately phoned up Adam, told him she had the place to herself for the weekend and he raced over with dine in and a twelve pack of wine spritzers. They talked, they played a few card games and they eventually went to the bedroom. Regina hadn't felt this comfortable in ages. Adam stirred, reaching up and wiping his eyes before rolling onto his side and looking at her. She smiled, which in turn made him smile.

"I'll make breakfast and coffee if you go get the paper," he said.

"You read the paper?"

"No, I just wanna see if the horses I bet on won," Adam said, "That's the only reason. I could care less about the news, honestly."

She laughed, then leaned in and kissed him before climbing out of bed and tugging her robe on. She walked down the hall, to the foyer and opened the front door. She reached down to grab the paper and sighed, feeling the warm Saturday morning sun on her face.

"Jeez, I was wondering if you'd ever get up," a voice said nearby, causing Regina to scream as she turned to the porch swing and saw a woman sitting there. The woman, with her messy black hair and her emerald green eyes, put her cigarette out and reached down, grabbing the handles on her luggage.

"Emily?" Regina whispered.

"What? You not excited to see your sister in law?" she asked.

                                                                           ***

Palmer was sitting in the library with Anita and Arthur, studying for something. She was chewing on her pencil and tapping her fingernails on the tabletop. For the last few weeks now, it seemed like Palmer had been in an excellent mood, though neither Arthur nor Anita knew about her blossoming relationship with Sarah. She simply wasn't ready yet to go public with that sort of thing, not that she thought her friends would be bothered by it in the slightest anyway.

"You know, when I came to college I was under the impression that getting into it was the hardest part. I was never once informed that I'd have to continue putting in effort," Anita said, making Arthur and Palmer chuckle.

"I didn't even know if I was gonna go to college for a while," Arthur said.

"Really?" Palmer asked, genuinely surprised.

"Yeah, really. I always liked school, but I also always felt like I was smart enough to make it on my own without the help of a degree. Guess it wouldn't hurt to have it to fall back on, but I still don't think it's a necessity, but I also suppose it depends on what you intend to do with your life, career wise."

"I always wanted to go to college," Palmer said, "Ever since I was a little girl, I loved school and I couldn't wait."

"Nerd," Anita said under her breath, making them laugh again. Just then the librarian approached the table and gently tapped Palmer on the shoulder. She turned around and looked up.

"You have a phone call," she said, and Palmer got up and followed her to the front desk. Palmer took the phone and put it to her face, lowering her voice a little.

"Hello?"

"It's Dodie," Dodie said.

"Are you okay?"

"You have to come home," Dodie said, "Something weird is going on. Nona and I came over to get some stuff to play with and mom is locked in the bathroom and Adam is here and also aunt Emily is smoking all over everything."

"Aunt Emily is there?!" Palmer asked, her voice rising a little, "wha...why in...wait, who's Adam?"

"Like I said, you need to come home," Dodie replied.

                                                                              ***

Emily, seated at the kitchen table and eating the breakfast Adam was continuously cooking - because he didn't know what else to do in light of the present situation at hand - hadn't been to the Hurks household in ages. In fact, perhaps the last time was when Dodie was only one year old, and even then the visit had been shortlived, thanks to her uncomfortable relationship with her brother, the girls father. Adam plopped some more bacon down into the pan as Dodie hung up the phone in the living room and then headed to the kitchen table.

"Can I have some juice?" Dodie asked, and Adam winked at her.

"You got it, kiddo," he said, heading to the fridge and pulling a carton out, then grabbing a glass from the nearby cabinet. While he poured, Dodie looked across the table at Emily.

"Why don't I remember you?" she asked.

"Why would you? Last time I saw you you were barely a baby," Emily replied, "your father and I didn't really get along, and that's been the main reason I stayed away for so long. Plus your mother. But now that he's gone...ya know, I didn't even come to the funeral."

Adam walked to the table and put the glass down in front of Dodie. She thanked him, picked it up and took a long sip as he began to clear the table of unnecessary dishes. He then headed back to the stove as Emily whistled at him, catching his attention.

"Hey, you my sisters live in chef or what?" she asked.

"...yeah, let's go with that," he said, focusing back on his cooking. Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Regina was lying in the bathtub still in her robe, afraid to come out. She hadn't seen Emily in years, and she was afraid to now. She and Emily had never gotten along, not since...well...not since the wedding. No. Not gotten along is not the right way to put it. They got along too well was the problem, and it made the girls father uncomfortable. Regina sighed and looked up at the black stain on the ceiling overhead. God. When had things gotten so complicated? Just mere months ago she'd been a happily married woman, normal suburban housewife, and now she was sleeping with her grocery clerk and dealing with her 3rd graders rapidly declining mental health. A knock on the door. She looked over and waited until she heard the person walk away again. She went back to looking at the stain, unaware that in a few short hours, Palmer would also be home, and things would get even worse.

                                                                             ***

Palmer could barely contain her ire.

Could there just be a single week that does by this year where something didn't change in her life? First her fathers death, then her loss of virginity, then her sexuality awakening and now her aunt Emily is back? And who the FUCK is Adam? Thoughts of every kind on every spectrum swirled around inside her head as she drove back home. But, before she stopped home, she pulled into the driveway of another house. She got out, walked up to the door and knocked. The door swung open and Sarah, surprised to see her, stood there.

"Oh! What...what are you-"

Palmer didn't wait. She just hugged her and buried her face in Sarah's chest. Sarah blushed and stroked her hair.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

"Will you come home with me?" she asked, "...something's wrong, and I'm afraid to go alone."

"Yeah, sure, of course," Sarah said, "I wasn't doing anything anyway."

The girls piled back into Palmer's car and headed to her house. When she pulled up, she didn't see a car, but then thought perhaps a taxi dropped aunt Emily off. Palmer parked and got out, waiting for Sarah to join her. She took Sarah's hand and, together, they walked up the driveway and in through the front door to a sight not unlike Dodie's description. Aunt Emily was indeed sitting at the kitchen table, chain smoking, while Dodie did a coloring book and ate bacon of a plate full of what looked like a million pieces of bacon, and, weirdest of all, was a young man she'd never before seen standing behind the stove cooking.

"Uh...hi?" Palmer asked as she entered the kitchen.

"Palmer!" Aunt Emily shouted, standing up and hugging her tightly, "Oh baby, it's so good to see you, you look so beautiful! How is college?"

"It's....uh....what's going on here?" Palmer asked.

"I've turned the kitchen into a nonstop breakfast machine," Adam said.

"And you are?" Palmer asked.

"That's Adam," Dodie said, "Mom's boyfriend."

Everyone stopped dead in their tracks as Adam rubbed his face with his hand, half laughing, half terrified. Dodie lowered her head and went back to coloring.

"...mom's what now?" Palmer finally asked.

"There's a lot you don't know," Adam said, "Your mother's locked herself in the bathroom, follow me."

"Watch my sister," Palmer said to Sarah, who agreed and seated herself with Dodie while Palmer followed Adam down the hall.

"...I'm just...SO confused," Palmer said as Adam undid his apron and tossed it over his shoulder.

"Yeah, you and everyone else," he replied, "Uh, look, I...I don't wanna come in between a family, alright? That's the last thing I wanna do, especially to someone as great as your mom, so if I need to leave I will. I was only sticking around to watch over your sister while your mom hid, cause your sister trusts me, but I totally get it if-"

"Are you fucking my mother?" Palmer asked.

"Wow. Direct," Adam said, scratching the back of his head, "Uh...that's a little personal I think, but-"

"...dad never made us breakfast," Palmer said quietly, "Sometimes he'd take us out to breakfast, but he never MADE breakfast. Do you make breakfast a lot? Do you make my sister breakfast? Do you make my mom coffee?"

Adam stood there, uncertain of why she was asking these things, and then he finally nodded.

"Yeah, yes, I do. Often. Whenever I get the chance," Adam said, "Your sister likes pancakes so I make specialized pancakes quite a bit. I used to be a line chef at a greasy diner, so, I know what I'm doing. I know how your mom likes her coffee. I know that she prefers it black with a sugar cube in it. Yeah I do."

"Dad NEVER cared," Palmer said, "Dad NEVER made us breakfast, dad NEVER got her coffee. Everyone talks about him like he was this wonderful father, but only because he wasn't outright abusive. But doing the bare minimum, or just below that, doesn't make you a wonderful person. It just makes you not as bad as everyone else. Why am I the only one capable of seeing him for what he was?"

"I...I really don't know," Adam said, "Maybe because you got away for a bit, because you managed to distance yourself. Distance will do funny things to your brain. It clears out the fog. Once you're no longer around someone all the time you can kinda actually analyze them and your interactions with them and-"

"Please don't leave," Palmer said, "...please don't...don't leave. Please stay. Please keep making breakfast."

Adam smiled and patted her on the shoulder.

"Whatever you want," he said, before knocking on the bathroom door and saying, "Reggie, it's me, your daughter is here. Your OTHER daughter. Your very enlightened, too smart for her own good daughter."

Palmer laughed and Adam smirked. The door unlocked and Palmer went inside while Adam left, heading back to the kitchen. Palmer saw her mom sitting on the edge of the tub and she sat down beside her. Neither one spoke. Palmer pulled her back up in a ponytail, then exhaled deeply.

"I don't like swearing around you, but what the FUCK is going on?" Palmer asked, "Dodie calls me up at school, tells me I need to come home because a man I've never met is making breakfast in our kitchen while you've holed yourself up in the bathroom and Aunt Emily, of all people for some reason, is here. Mom what is-"

"I am so happy he's dead," Regina said quietly, "your father, I mean. I'm happy he's dead, and it's taken me so long to admit that. I wasn't happy. We weren't happy. We were still cordial towards one another, but neither one of us wanted to be together anymore. In fact, I think the only reason we ever were together was to have you girls, and that was it. And that's fine. That makes me happy. My life would be nothing without you and your sister, but divorce would've been painful, and one of us would've taken the blame, and that wouldn't be fair to you girls. But death? That's unavoidable? That's life itself making a decision. Can't blame me for that."

"...mom..."

"I'm glad he's dead. I didn't have to choose and now I can move on. Adam is great. Your sister loves him, and I...I think I do too, honestly," Regina said, "So much of this past year has been about reassessing our lives, ourselves, and choosing who we want around us and I just can't help but want to do the same that you're doing. You know who you are now, and I wanna do the same."

Palmer leaned over and hugged her mom, patting her on the back. She'd never expected this sort of admittance from her mother, but it really did put a lot of things in perspective, especially about her father. After the hug, Regina pulled away and wiped her face with a hand towel.

"I'll be out in a bit, just...just make sure things stay okay out there, alright?" she asked.

"Okay," Palmer said.

Palmer exited the bathroom and headed back down the hall. She found Adam still in the kitchen behind the stove, while Dodie and Sarah continued to color. She looked around and noticed the back door was open. Palmer headed into the backyard and found Aunt Emily sitting on a piece of lawn furniture, lighting up yet another cigarette. Palmer sat down nearby and Aunt Emily smiled at her.

"Adam told me to take it outside," she said, "I like him, he's a cool guy."

"He really is, actually," Palmer said, "Why are you here?"

"Because my brother's not, and now it's safe to see you guys again," Emily said, "...my brother was...frustrating, to put it politely. He didn't want anyone intruding on his family, so I think to see his wife with another man is pretty god damn satisfying to say the least."

"How long are you staying?" Palmer asked.

"As long as I want, or as long as you guys will let me," Emily said, shrugging, "Not like I have much to return to."

A moment passed.

"I'm glad you're here," Palmer said, making Aunt Emily smile.

"Thanks, it's good to see you all grown up."

The door slid open again and Adam peeked out, holding a lunchbox.

"Is this Dodie's?" he asked, "I was gonna clean it for the upcoming school week cause it's got a funky smell in it, but there's no name in it. It just says 'Doodlebug' on it. I'm assuming it's hers?"

"Yeah," Palmer said, just as Aunt Emily said "No." The two stopped and looked at one another, Palmer furrowing her brow in confusion.

"What?" she asked.

"That's not your sisters. That's yours," Emily said, "I mean, maybe it wound up as your sisters hand me down, but I remember clearly from when you were in elementary school, that was yours during kindergarten. Doodlebug was what your father used to call you."

Palmer couldn't breath. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Wh...what do...you...mean?" she asked, "How do you know that?"

"Because I'm the one who helped him pick it out," Aunt Emily said, "and it's what he used to call me growing up."

Palmer looked back at Adam, who merely shrugged, unaware of the severity of what was happening. Palmer felt like her entire worldview was collapsing. She was Doodlebug? This entire time? The lunchbox had been hers, and a hand me down to Dodie? Why didn't she remember this? How could she have blocked this out? She finally looked back at Aunt Emily, who smiled and blew smoke into the air.

"What?" she asked, "You didn't know that?"

Dodie hated the card wall with a passion unlike anything else.

The card wall was a space on the wall in her classroom where each kid had their own card, and whenever they were in trouble, or had a warning, they had to switch to a different color. Green meant you were a good student, while yellow indicated a warning, and red, of course, meant you'd gotten into some trouble. Dodie had never been anything but a green card, but that was no longer the case after today, and she wanted to do nothing else but run home and cry but she had to wait for her mom to come pick her up and talk with the teacher. Sitting in the hallway right outside the classroom, Dodie recognized her mothers jingling keyring instantly and looked up to see Regina approaching her. Regina knelt down in front of Dodie, reaching out and touching her face.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, "What happened?"

"I don't know," Dodie muttered, "I got in trouble."

The classroom door opened and Dodie's teacher, Ms. Spink, peaked outside and smiled upon seeing Regina.

"Mrs. Hurks, please, come in," she said, stepping aside and allowing Regina to stand back up and enter the classroom, shutting the door behind them. Regina squeezed herself into one of the kids desk chairs and put her purse on the floor beside her while Ms. Spink walked back around to her seat behind her desk and pulled it out, sitting down in it. She glanced up at Regina and raised an eyebrow.

"I feel like a giant," Regina said, making the both of them chuckle; she cupped her hands on the desktop and looked at Ms. Spink, asking, "So...what's the situation? Why have I been called in?"

"Dodie's always been a great student," Ms. Spink said, "She's polite, she's studious, she's friendly, and as a result she's never once had to swap her card on the board. But after today..."

"What happened today exactly?" Regina asked and Ms. Spink sighed, shaking her head.

"I know it's been a hard few months for your family, given your husbands sudden death, and I know this has hit Dodie in particular extremely hard," Ms. Spink said, "but this afternoon, your daughter punched another girl in the mouth on the playground, and turmoil or otherwise, we simply cannot allow violence at the school of any kind from anyone."

Regina didn't know what to say. Dodie had never once acted out or been remotely violent, and she was shocked to hear this. She didn't even know how to respond. In fact, she was simultaneously mortified and surprised when she started laughing, not that Ms. Spink found it funny.

                                                                            ***

"Boy you really like horses," Palmer said as she laid on Sarah's bed, the both of them looking up at the posters she had pinned to the ceiling. Sarah just shrugged and laughed.

"It's an illness," she said, "I need a horserectomy."

Palmer cracked up and then rolled onto her side, looking at Sarah as she reached over and put her fingers in Sarah's hair. Sarah blushed and rolled onto her side as well, facing Palmer.

"I hope this okay, I'm really new to this dating stuff," Palmer said.

"You didn't date in high school?"

"I went on one date and it was for a friend because he didn't have one to a party," Palmer said, "Otherwise no, I stayed home, hung out with my sister, chilled in my room, whatever. I've never been too big into the whole social interaction thing."

"It can be exhausting, you're not wrong," Sarah said, "but I think you're doing okay."

"...does your family care at all?"

"What, about being queer? No," Sarah said, "They've known longer than I have I think. If anything, I think they're relieved, I think they were getting worried at one point that I was gonna be the sole lonely cat lady of the family. Well, horse lady, but you get the point."

Palmer chuckled and rolled back onto her back, looking back up at the ceiling, surprised when Sarah suddenly mounted her, sitting on her and looking down at her. Sarah bit her lip, grinning, before leaning down and kissing Palmer, who happily kissed her back.

"I'm sorry I'm so awkward," Palmer whispered after, "it's been a strange year."

"I understand."

"I'll be okay with being more public with things once my father's been gone a while longer, but...I just...I don't wanna put too much change on my mother as it is, you know?"

"I get it, it's cool, you don't have to explain yourself to me," Sarah said, leaning back in, kissing her again, letting her lips trail up Palmers neck to her ear where she whispered quietly, "I like you with or without the explanations."

Palmer had never felt so appreciative of another person.

                                                                         ***

Regina was driving home, Dodie in the backseat, after the meeting. All she could think back to was the moment she lost her cool in the classroom, and how awkward she felt. She sighed, rubbed her forehead and then pulled over to the side of the road, near a fast food place.

"Why are we stopping?" Dodie asked, pulling her headphones off cautiously.

"Doodlebug, I need to ask you something," Regina said, turning around in her seat, "...why did you hit that girl?"

Dodie shrugged.

"No," Regina said, "no, that's not an answer. Ms. Spink says it was because of something she said, so what did she say? What did she say that was so awful that made you feel the only course of action was to physically punish her for her words?"

Dodie sighed, rolling her head as she looked out the window.

"...she said dad died to get away from us, because we're losers," she finally said.

"...Dodie," Regina said, reaching back towards her, putting her hand on Dodie's leg, adding, "I just...I want you to know how proud I am of you for standing up for yourself and your father and...and even though I am proud, what you did wasn't okay in the grounds of being at school and cannot happen again, understand? Yes, you should never let someone be that cruel to you, but you should also never physically attack them when they do so."

Dodie and her mother locked eyes and Dodie slowly nodded. Regina patted her daughters leg, turned back around to face the windshield and smiled.

"Let's go get some ice cream," Regina said.

                                                                           ***

Palmer, true to her word, had never been in a relationship. Much like she'd never had sex before that time a few weeks prior, she'd also never dated someone regularly. It wasn't that she didn't have crushes or romantic inclinations, it was also that she just, as she had flat out said to Sarah, didn't have much interest in social interest with her peers. Even now, in college with Arthur and Anita, she always felt like the odd one out, much as she did appreciate their friendship.

But sitting here at the dinner table, with Sarah and Sarah's family, Palmer couldn't help but feel that sense of warmth that came from being with people who loved one another. A feeling she hadn't felt in ages, long before her father died. Last time she'd felt this was maybe when she was in 6th grade. As Sarah's mom, Roberta, piled more broccoli onto Palmers plate, Palmer thanked her politely before putting her napkin on her lap.

"How's your mother doing?" Sarah's father, Allen, asked.

"She's actually doing alright, it seems, all things considered," Palmer said, "My sister, I think, is the one being hit the hardest."

"How are you handling it?" Roberta asked, seating herself beside Allen and digging into her food.

"...I...I don't know, nobody's ever really asked me," Palmer said, "I guess I'm...angry? I'm not sad, and I feel bad for being sad, but I'm just not. Dad and I had a weird relationship, especially the older I got, so I think that sadness gave way to anger and resentment, you know? So now I'm mad, both that he's gone and that I'll never get the chance to fix things with him."

"That makes perfect sense," Allen said, wiping his mouth with his napkin and nodding, "It's understandable for some people to get lost in the shuffle when something like this happens, so I'm not surprised you're not being asked. My father had a heart attack when I was in my third year of college, and, same as you, we had a complicated relationship and I didn't even attend his funeral as a result. People were outraged, but I did what was best for me."

Palmer smiled. She appreciated Allen's kindness and understanding.

"You girls have any plans for tonight after dinner?" Robert asked, spearing a piece of chicken with her fork and raising it to her mouth.

"I was gonna take her to The Hidden Library," Sarah said.

"Where's that?" Palmer asked.

"Well, telling you wouldn't make it hidden now would it?" Sarah replied, all of them laughing.

Oh yes, it wasn't her family, but Palmer felt more accepted here than she did at home these days, and that was something she desperately needed and was eternally grateful for. Indeed, after dinner had finished, the girls got their jackets and Sarah drove them to a place called The Hidden Library, and, much to Palmer's surprise, it wasn't just a cute name, it actually was a library and it actually was hidden. The Hidden Library was put behind an old record store right next to a park, and tucked away in the very back of the shopping complex with trees hanging over it. They parked and walked across the lot into the building.

"This place is so cute, I've never even noticed it," Palmer said.

"Most people haven't, which is weird cause it's been here forever," Sarah said, "Like, the only reason my mom knew about it and showed it to me was because she worked here as a teenager in high school. It's always been special to me, but now you're special to me, so I wanted to show it to you."

Palmer blushed, but tried to hide it, which only made Sarah giggle harder. Palmer was not used to being treated so well by someone, and certainly not used to accepting compliments. They kept walking through, simply perusing with their eyes.

"It's really quiet and cozy in here," Palmer finally said, and Sarah nodded.

"It is. It's one of the few places besides the stables that I feel completely at ease within," Sarah said, taking one of Palmer's hands and adding, "Come on, I'll show you where they keep the horse books."

Palmer had never really been on a date, but as far as first dates went, she figured this was pretty darn good.

                                                                              ***

"You laughed?" Adam asked, "I'm sorry, you laughed at her? What could've possibly possessed you to do such a thing? Here she is telling you your child has violently struck another child, and your first inclination is to laugh? God you're sick, and that's why I like you."

Regina smirked as she paced in the living room, wine glass in hand while Adam sat on the couch, sipping his own wine. Regina tossed her hair and shook her head.

"It just happened, I can't explain it," she said, "part of it was just general nervousness, you know what that's like, right? Where you just..your body has a bizarre adverse reaction to something you can't control? That's what this was. But..."

"But the other part?" Adam said, and Regina bit her lip.

                                                                                 ***

"What happened today exactly?" Regina asked and Ms. Spink sighed, shaking her head.

"I know it's been a hard few months for your family, given your husbands sudden death, and I know this has hit Dodie in particular extremely hard," Ms. Spink said, "but this afternoon, your daughter punched another girl in the mouth on the playground, and turmoil or otherwise, we simply cannot allow violence at the school of any kind from anyone."

Regina didn't know what to say. Dodie had never once acted out or been remotely violent, and she was shocked to hear this. She didn't even know how to respond. In fact, she was simultaneously mortified and surprised when she started laughing, not that Ms. Spink found it funny.

"Do you find this funny?" Ms. Spink asked, and Regina shook her head.

"No, no I'm...god, I'm sorry, I just...I guess when your family falls apart, you start to have trouble caring about what other places worry about. I mean, my daughter lost her dad, my daughter was in a horrible car accident and somehow survived and now feels guilty that her dad was the one who died, and you're calling me in - me, someone who lost my husband of many years - to inform me that my daughter, probably justified in doing so, hit another girl in the mouth and I'm supposed to care? I know it's wrong, I know I'm supposed to care, but...I have a fridge full of leftovers from well meaning neighbors and friends and two daughters who are struggling to survive day to day life. I am alone, now on a somewhat fixed income, and will soon have to find work to support us because I guarantee what my husband left behind and what the insurance will pay out will not be enough forever, and you expect me to care about a playground spat?"

Ms. Spink's eyes widened. She was surprised at Regina's lack of professionalism, especially when she'd always come off as professional in the past.

"Well, considering it's against school policy, yes I think that-"

"Policy bullshit my ass," Regina said, standing up, "You know what should be against life policy? Taking apart a family and then expecting them to still maintain a facade of 'everything is fine' for the rest of the world. My family is broken, and the school expects us to react accordingly? I know what she did is wrong, I understand that and yes, it should never happen again, but that doesn't mean I'm going to treat it with the upmost seriousness when right now the true seriousness of my situation revolves around the death of my longtime husband and my daughters father. I have been putting up with so much bullshit from various institutions, from insurance companies to now schools, that I've just about had my goddamn fill of it. I'll tell her she wasn't in the right to do it, obviously, but I'm not gonna make her feel bad about defending herself. I refuse to breed fear of defense into my child because a school says I should. You'd think, being a teacher, you would understand that."

And Regina turned and rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. She leaned against the wall, covering her face with her hands, trying not to cry. She finally opened her eyes, pulled her hands away and looked towards the chair where Dodie was seated, and smiled.

"Am I in trouble?" Dodie asked.

"Sweetheart, we're all in trouble," Regina said, taking her by the hand and leading her to the parking lot.

Palmer couldn't stop staring at herself in the bathroom mirror.

She looked the same, and yet she didn't feel the same. She sighed, brushed her bangs from her eyes and exited the bathroom, only to find Arthur and Anita sitting at the table in the living room of the dorm, eating from a plate of bacon and hashbrowns together, jokingly arguing.

"It's just weird, right? I mean, we have elongated potatoes in their natural form, then stick potatoes in the form of french fries, then flat potatoes in the form of hashbrowns, but why're there no outright round potatoes? And don't say tater tots 'cause those ain't round," Anita said.

Palmer tried to ignore the conversation and headed to the fridge, yanking it open and peering inside. She'd been unable to concentrate on anything for the past week and felt awful. Classes had been rough, and even her sleep had been poor. Ever since that night with that boy from the student mixer, Palmer just hadn't felt good. She finally pulled a blackberry flavored soda from the fridge, popped the top and started drinking.

"Palmer, are tater tots round?" Anita asked, her and Arthur both looking at her now.

"...I think I need to see my mom," she said quietly.

                                                                         ***

Dodie and Nona stared at the volcano on the kitchen table, afraid to start the chain reaction. Regina stepped backward and, hands on her hips, nodded at her handiwork. It'd been a while since she'd made a baking soda volcano, but she still had it, gosh darn it. Standing there, helping her daughter and her daughters best (and seemingly only) friend do their science project, Regina felt a sense of accomplishment that she hadn't felt in ages. And then the front door opened. Palmer walked inside and flopped down on the couch, whining loudly until Regina came around.

"How are you sweetheart?" she asked, "You didn't even call to say you were coming."

"Mom, everything sucks," Palmer said loudly, making the girls in the kitchen giggle, which, in turn, made her smile a little.

"Everything okay?" Regina asked, sitting down on the couch as Palmer looked over behind them at the girls, and then lowered her voice, leaning closer to her mother.

"Can we talk somewhere?" she whispered, and Regina nodded.

The two stood up and headed into Regina's bedroom, leaving Dodie and Nona to admire the volcano by themselves. As they entered the bedroom, Regina shut the door and turned, watching as Palmer sat on the corner of the bed and slowly pulled her beanie off, letting her long blonde hair fall down to her sides, the sun from the window outside shining through it brightly.

"um," Palmer began, "...god, this is awkward. So, last weekend I went to a mixer with my friends, and...and I just...oh boy. So I went to this mixer, my friend Anita basically pressured me into it, which, I mean, I'm thankful for her for pushing me out of my comfort zone but I also hate her right now for it, because when I was there I met this boy and I..."

Regina leaned against the dresser and just listened. Palmer sighed and pushed her bangs from her eyes again. She needed a haircut. Maybe she'd ask her mom to cut her hair before she went back to the college. She hadn't had a haircut from her mom in ages, it seemed like. She missed that.

"So uh, we hung out and played card games and just talked, and then after a bit, we..." she started again before trailing off once more and Regina smiled, sitting down on the bed beside her daughter.

"I get it, you don't have to finish, I know what the end is. A story as old as college itself," Regina said, "You don't have to explain the rest."

"I have two problems," Palmer said, and Regina's face changed.

"...you're not pregnant are you?"

"God no!"

"Oh thank the lord," Regina said, clasping her hand to her chest and adding, "I mean, I'd support you even if you were, but that is just not something we need right now on top of everything else. Your father's death has been more than enough for the year. So, what's wrong then?"

Palmer stood up and started pacing, playing with her own fingers as she walked.

"I don't know how to explain this," she said, "he...he didn't stay, and by morning when I woke up he was gone. He didn't leave a note. He didn't give me his last name. He never gave me a phone number. He was just...gone. It dawned on me that every man I've dared to get close to, be it dad or this guy, have left me this year and...why do they keep leaving?"

Regina now could see how upset Palmer actually was. She was struggling not to cry as she leaned against the wall and wiped at her eyes with her sweater sleeve.

"why does everyone keep leaving me?" she whispered.

"Sweetheart," Regina said, patting the spot Palmer had been sitting, making Palmer come and seat herself once more as Regina hugged her daughter and said, "It isn't you. Your father didn't die on purpose, and this boy, I mean, maybe something came up, maybe he'll come back around, who knows. All I know is that none of it is your fault."

"How can you sit there and tell me none of it is my fault when dad never liked me much and this guy apparently didn't like me enough to stick around through the night?" Palmer asked, "Apparently I'm doing something wrong if that many people regularly dislike me."

"I assure you, it's not you," Regina said, "your father didn't really like me much either as the years went on. We...we were always friends, but the romance went away pretty quickly once you girls were born. He was a...a weird man, Palmer. And as for this boy, well, it's his loss."

"You have to say that, you're my mom."

"Oh, I assure you I don't have to say anything that would bolster your self esteem just because I'm your mom. Believe me. My mom taught me that much," Regina said, making Palmer chuckle. It was true. Grandma had always been especially bitter towards Regina, and Palmer knew it all too well; after a moment of rubbing her back, Regina asked, "So what's the second problem?"

"Hmmm?"

"You said you have two problems, what's the second problem?" Regina asked, and Palmer bit her lip.

"oh, right," she muttered, "uh...well, I guess that would be the fact that it felt...wrong."

"Wrong how? I mean, the first time is rarely the best, but-"

"Because it..." Palmer started, then stopped.

"What? What is it? You can tell me," Regina said.

But how could she? She knew her mother was open minded. She knew she wouldn't hate her for it. But how could she tell her mother that it felt wrong because it was with a man?

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Dodie and Nona were still sitting at the kitchen table, looking over all the little details Regina had put into the baking soda volcano. She'd even gone out and bought tiny little model palm trees and put them around the mountain range, to make it appear more scenic, and she'd gone and collected little rocks outside for more detailing. Dodie sighed and sat back in her seat.

"It feels like everything is almost always covered in lava," she said, "that threat is scary. Things are gonna overflow and kill everything in front of them."

"You mean like with family?" Nona asked, and Dodie nodded, resting her chin on the table.

"Like, my dad dying was the explosion, and since then, everything has just gotten worse and covered in lava," Dodie said.

Nona sighed and looked at her friend. She wanted to say something, but was unsure of just what that something was. Instead she stayed quiet and just looked back from Dodie to the volcano. It was a weird analogy, but not a bad one. Back in the bedroom, Regina was still sitting on the bed as Palmer cried, her head resting on her mothers shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," she cried, "I don't know what to do, I don't even know who I am anymore. Dad dying has destroyed my identity because it made me realize I never had one to begin with and now I'm so old I don't know how to make one. I hope I'm not just making this up, grasping at something to make something for myself."

"Honey, if you're gay you're gay," Regina said, "and that's perfectly fine, I don't care. What I do care about, however, is how upset you are. You need to do something to calm down, ease yourself into this. It's a big moment, accepting a part of yourself, but you-"

Suddenly Palmer stood up in a shot and rushed out of the room, leaving Regina confused. As she raced out the front door, Dodie and Nona noticed, but just shrugged as she disappeared out of sight. A moment later Regina stumbled into the kitchen and, hands on her hips, sighed before looking at the girls at the table and, smiling, went back to helping them.

                                                                           ***

Sarah was standing in the stall of her palamino, brushing him down before setting the brush down and picking up a small hose with a squeeze nozzle on the end. She then started spraying the ground, while the horse ate hay from the nearby hanging metal trough. Sarah had headphones on, and didn't hear the doors open, or hear the footsteps approaching on. It wasn't until a hand was on her shoulder, turning her around to face her, that she finally screamed a little and yanked her headphones down.

"Good god mayor of buttstown, don't do that!" she said loudly, making Palmer chuckle a little.

"Sorry, I guess you couldn't hear me," she said.

"What are you even doing here and how'd you know I'd be here?" Sarah asked, brushing errant strays of her walnut brown hair out of her face.

"I had a bad weekend," Palmer said, "Last weekend I made a mistake, or maybe it wasn't a mistake, I don't know yet, and now I'm freaking out and you were the person I had to talk to because you're the only way I'll know and I'm really sorry about both this being a run on sentence and also that I need to kiss you."

Sarah's eyes widened and she laughed, completely taken aback by this sudden admission. The more Palmer looked at her face, the more she realized she liked what she saw. Sarah had a very young looking face, and slightly buck teeth. She had dark walnut colored hair that was in a ponytail and hazel eyes. After a minute of laughing, she finally regained her composure and cleared her throat.

"I'm sorry, I just...that's the most forward anyone's ever been with me," she said, "But, sure, if you need to test this out, may as well be me I suppose."

Palmer nodded, then put one hand on Sarah's shoulder and the other on her hip and looked in her eyes. She'd never once questioned herself. She'd always assumed she'd liked boys, and perhaps she still could. She certainly liked Eric but didn't like the sex. The sun was beginning to set and dim rays of light broke through the cracks of the weathered barn, splashing across Sarah's face. Palmer shut her eyes and leaned forward, pressing her lips against Sarah's, kissing her hard. Sarah kissed her back, she couldn't help it. After a few minutes of kissing heavily, Palmer stumbled, pushing Sarah against the barn wall and kissing down her neck, making her breath heavily.

"Whoa whoa, wait, just," Sarah said, giggling, "This is all very, uh, welcome and hot, but...uh..."

"I'm...I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm doing," Palmer said, stuttering, "oh god I'm so bad at romance and stuff, I never...I've barely kissed anyone in my whole life."

"Really? Cause I thought you did pretty well," Sarah said, "I just...I actually like you, and I wanna help you but I...I can't let myself get involved with yet another straight girl using me to experiment on. I hope that makes sense. So if you're sincere, if...if you're interested in doing this and...and it makes sense to you, then I'll gladly help, but if you just are gonna hurt me, then..."

Sarah glanced at the ground and sighed.

"I've been through it too many times," she whispered.

"I would never hurt you," Palmer said quietly, pushing some of Sarah's hair behind her ear, making Sarah blush as she added, "I'm sorry, I can't believe other girls have done that, that isn't okay. All I know is that before you asked me, I was certain of my status, and once I lost my virginity, all I could think about was what you asked, and...and if all I can think about after fucking a boy is how much I would've maybe preferred fucking a girl, then there's a pretty good chance I'm gay."

"Definitely true," Sarah said, laughing, which made Palmer laugh, finally easing some of her tension. A moment passed, and Sarah fluttered her eyes a bit and looked back up at Palmer, then said softly, "You can keep kissing me now if you want."

And she didn't hesitate to take that offer.

                                                                          ***

Dodie and Nona stood in front of the classroom the following Monday morning, Dodie reading off the cards while Nona poured the baking soda into the open volcanic hole at the top, making everything spew outwards, rolling down the mountain, exciting everyone in class. It felt like a success, but it also felt like what life had become. Everything was breaking down, and there was nothing Dodie could do to stop it but run for cover.

Meanwhile, on the same Monday morning, Palmer woke up to her landline off the hook, sitting on the bed. As she reached for the receiver and put it to her face, she was happy to hear Sarah's voice. They'd talked all night, and had fallen asleep together on the phone. This was far more comfortable than anything Palmer had done with Eric, and she was grateful for that.

As Palmer got ready for her classes, she found Anita and Arthur siting, once more, at the table eating bacon and hashbrowns, once more arguing jokingly. Palmer poured herself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, listening until Anita finally looked at her.

"Tell Arthur that he's wrong and that Pork doesn't come in every shape and size," she said, "It doesn't come in a triangle shape!"

"Because who the hell would make triangular pork? That's actually a great name for a band though," he then whispered to himself.

"What's with you?" Anita asked Palmer, who just shrugged, sipping her coffee.

"Nothing," she said, "I'm just having a great morning."

Regina wanted to scream.

How could she have done this? How could she have been so reckless? She was usually so careful to check through Dodie's pockets before she put the clothes in the wash, but the one time she forgot was the one time Dodie had something absolutely irreplaceable within them, something she could never forgive herself for ruining. Regina leaned against the washing machine, smoking a cigarette and just thinking. She finally picked up the cordless home phone and dialed a number.

"Hello?" Adam asked, picking up the other line.

"It's me," Regina said, "I just fucked up big time."

"What happened?" Adam asked as Regina blew smoke out in front of herself and sighed.

"I just ruined my daughters favorite photo of her father," she said softly.

A pause.

"Boy, you're havin' a bad year," Adam said, making her actually crack a smile.

                                                                         ***

"This is awkward and uncomfortable," Palmer said, standing in the bathroom of her dorm, trying to put eyeliner on; she sighed and added, "This is why I never wear eye makeup. It's almost impossible to apply and it hurts like hell."

"You're such a baby," Anita said, sitting on the toilet seat and using a curling iron to work on her hair, "This is what women do to look nice, don't you wanna look nice?"

"I'd rather not go at all, to be honest."

"Yeah, and that's part of the problem. I'm all for your introversion, believe me, I get it, but at some point you have to interact with the real world even if it's only once a year or something," Anita said, "You've been hiding out since your dad died, and again, I get why, but maybe it's time to do something else?"

"I could hide out at home instead, if that sounds more acceptable," Palmer said, making Anita laugh as she turned and looked at Anita and asked, "Where's this coming from anyway? You're, like, the most introverted person I know. You jog, for christ sakes. That's the single most introverted athletic activity one can take up! What's gotten up your butt about going out all of a sudden?"

"Because," Anita said, standing up and setting the curler down on the sink counter as she gripped Palmer's shoulders and grinned, "You can't get laid staying at home, and I do occasionally getting laid. Now hurry up."

Palmer grimaced at this statement. She knew she could easily use the virgin card to get out of this if she so chose. She knew Anita wouldn't push her on it if she told her, but she wanted to help her friend have a good night. Palmer was torn. She looked back at herself in the mirror and sighed. She'd just not talk to anyone except Anita and Arthur, that was all. She'd stick to her guns, not drink and not go home with anyone. She'd done well this far in her life, why would tonight be any different?

                                                                             ***

"I gotta admit, this is a weird date," Adam said as he sat on the couch, sifting through a box of photos of Regina's dead husband. Regina chuckled a little from her spot on the floor as she did the same.

"Well, I'm sorry, I just can't get through all of these by myself before she gets home and I need to see if I can find another one of the photos to replace the one I wrecked," Regina said, picking up her glass from the table and sipping it.

"Why'd she even have it in her pocket?" Adam asked, "Was it show and tell or something?"

"I...honestly don't know. I've never known her to do it before," Regina said.

"She must really miss him," Adam said, making Regina sigh and shove her box away from her.

"You know, you'd think that, at this point, I'd be all the more careful," she said, "you'd think having your husband die in an accident would only make you extremely cautious here on in, and yet, here I am, destroying our daughters most prized possessions in a washing machine."

"It wasn't your fault, you said it yourself you had no idea it was in there."

"Yeah, because I didn't check," Regina said, "I always check. I don't know what I was thinking this afternoon. I just...completely spaced."

"I also don't think," Adam said, picking out another handful of photos and comparing them, "that it's fair to compare your approach to life to the thing that took your husband. Why should you alter the way you experience life just because of the way he left the world? That doesn't make any sense."

Regina sighed and shook her head. She knew Adam was trying to make her feel better, to make her feel less guilty, but it wasn't really working. Dodie was already having so many problems trying to adjust to a life without her father, the last thing Regina wanted to do was make it harder for her. Remove any reminders of the father she'd once had. Regina felt sick, but Adam stood up, walked over to her and sat across from her on the floor.

"Hey," he said, "it isn't your fault, alright? These things happen. If nothing else, have her pick a photo out herself, one that she'll want to keep to remember him by. It won't be the same, but it's something."

Regina nodded, not responding. Maybe Adam was right. Maybe this was the best option she had. Adam checked his watch and sighed.

"I should get going, she's gonna be here soon," he said, but as he stood, he felt Regina's hand gripping his wrist and puling him back down to the floor; he glanced at her and asked, "Yeah? You need something?"

"Just...not yet, don't go yet," she said quietly.

So he didn't.

                                                                             ***

Palmer had never gone to parties in high school.

She'd never attended any kind of bashes, get togethers, soirees or any other kind of social activity in which her peers were not only there in number but also with the sole intention to hook up with one another, aided by the worlds greatest liar, alcohol. Standing there by the table, glass bottle of root beer in her hand, Palmer felt...out of place. Anita, however, looked exactly like she belonged here, despite coming off as far more antisocial than Palmer ever outwardly appeared. Arthur finally came back to their side after talking with a few of his classmates across the hall.

"I'm so uncomfortable with seeing classmates outside of class," Arthur said, "In high school, you saw these people for a set number of hours during the day, the week, but now it's like they're roommates and I hate having such regular contact with them."

"I know the feeling," Palmer said quietly, lifting her drink to her lips and sipping, adding, "I'm not a big fan of these meet and greet things myself. I just don't really feel all that interested in meeting anyone who isn't already a part of my social circle."

"Your social circle consists of two people," Anita said, pushing some chips from the bowl on the table into her mouth, saying while chewing, "that's not a social circle, it's like a social triangle."

"You'd have been a brilliant mathematician," Arthur said, making Palmer snort with laughter.

Arthur then spotted a professor he enjoyed speaking to, so he went off to talk with them, while Anita headed to the designated dance space, leaving Palmer all by her lonesome. She leaned against the table, folding her arms, her eyes scanning the room before dropping her sight to her shoes so nobody could mistake her for looking for companionship. She sipped her drink again and sighed, shaking her bouncy blonde hair.

"It's a sickening display of excess isn't it?" a voice asked from nearby, and she turned to see a young, lanky man standing by her at the table; he continued with, "I mean, we wait so long to be adults that as soon as we're given any kind of freedom, we immediately overdo it. This restriction is what creates addiction in the end. People wait so long to drink or whatever that they then eventually become alcoholics."

"Boy, those are some conversational skills you've got there," Palmer said, smirking.

"I'm just saying that, like, we wait to be adults because we think it'll be more fun, but all the fun that comes with being an adult seems to be hurting yourself to the point of wrecking your life," the man said, "I just...I guess I don't really understand the appeal of screwing yourself up for the future for pleasure in the immediate pleasure."

Palmer looked at him again. He had short brown hair, rectangular glasses and light stubble. He was wearing a white button down shirt with a thin black tie, and black slacks. He looked more like an office worker than a student, but he was about her age, she could tell. Either way, he was far less creepy than most of the guys she had seen that evening thus far.

"So what's your idea of a good time? Staying in, playing solitaire? Cause that was what my evening was going to be until my friend dragged me here," Palmer said.

"Actually that sounds nice, yes," the man said, holding his hand out so she shook it and he added, smiling, "I'm Eric."

"Hi Eric, Palmer."

"Actually, I'm more a Go Fish guy myself," Eric said, adjusting his glasses, "but that's just me."

Palmer laughed a little, which in turn made him laugh a little too. Maybe Anita was right. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to socialize now and then.

                                                                               ***

The front door opened and Dodie entered the house. She stopped in the foyer as she saw the boxes and photos strewn across the living room floor, then let her bookbag slid down to the floor as she approached the room, only to find her mother lying on the couch. Dodie shook her mom gently, who looked up at her and smiled warmly.

"Hi Doodlebug," she said.

"What is all this?" Dodie asked.

"These are photos of your dad," Regina said, "um...I was hoping you might be interested in going through these and finding a photo or two that you liked and wanted to keep for yourself."

Dodie knelt on the floor and started going through the pictures, while Regina sat upright on the couch and watched. She was genuinely terrified at telling Dodie about the ruined picture from her pants pocket, but she knew it was better to just get it out and done with than dance around the subject.

"Why would I-" Dodie started when her mother interrupted.

"Because I accidentally washed your pants with your photo in them and I'm so sorry and I didn't know and I totally understand if you never wanna talk to me again and we can find you a foster family with a better foster mom and-"

"Mom!" Dodie said loudly, laughing, "What...what photo?"

"...the...the one of your dad and you at 2nd grade bake sale, remember? He had the ducky apron on and...and I'm so so sorry, Doodlebug, I just totally forgot to check your pants before I washed them and I have been freaking out all day about this."

"Oh, that photo," Dodie said, sitting on her knees, "That's not my favorite. That was just the one I wanted to show to class for show and tell because we were talking about being embarrassed by our parents. I mean, it was a funny picture, but it wasn't my favorite."

Regina felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She softly excused herself and stood up, picking up the house phone as she made her way to the hall bathroom and dialed Adam, who answered on the 2nd ring.

"Heyo," he said.

"You were right, you son of a bitch," Regina said.

"I appreciate vindication, but not when it comes with being sworn at, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Adam asked.

"It was for show and tell," Regina said quietly, "How do you know my kids better than I do?"

"I should know them pretty well, you talk about them all the time. You're a good mom, Reggie," Adam said, and Regina felt herself blush. How lucky she was, she felt, to have a guy in her life like Adam right now. She finished up her call in the bathroom, then went back to the living room, where she found Dodie looking at a picture.

"I like this one," Dodie said, "It's dad riding a bike. He looks young."

"That's from college," Regina said, "You can have it."

Dodie smiled and tucked the photo in her shirt pocket.

"Hey," Regina said, leaning forward on the floor, "Would you mind if a friend of mine came over for dinner? I think you'd like him."

                                                                               ***

Palmer heard her bedroom door open, and she tried to open her eyes but everything was blurry. She finally managed to get one eye open, and saw a fuzzy outline of Anita stumbling into the room, digging through a basket of clothes until she pulled something out.

"What're you doing?" Palmer asked.

"Just borrowing a sweater for a jog this morning," Anita said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. Where'd you vanish to last night?"

That's when it all came back to Palmer. Her and Eric coming back to her dorm for a card game or two, both totally sober, both virgins. They played a couple hands of each game, and before she knew it, they were on the couch, making out. It was Palmer, actually, who'd instigated it, and who'd then insisted they go to her bedroom. She started to blush, then she looked around the room and realized she didn't see Eric, or anything belonging to a man, anywhere in her sight.

"I have to go, but we'll talk later," Anita said, pulling her headphones on and tying the sweater around her waist as she headed out to her jog.

Palmer groggily stood up, in a band t-shirt that once belonged to her father and a pair of sleep shorts. She stumbled her way to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, fixed her hair a little, then headed to the living room and kitchen area, where she found Anita leaving just as Arthur entered. He smiled as he put his backpack down on the table and looked at her.

"Good morning!" he said brightly.

"How are so goddamned chipper?" she asked, before squinting and following up with, "Hey, did you see a guy I was talking with last night? Or, like, even around here at some point?"

"No, why?" Arthur asked, walking to the fridge and pulling out an apple, biting into it.

"...no reason," Palmer said.

Had she really just given her virginity to the first nice boy she'd spent even a little bit of time with? Still, she'd been the one to suggest it, and it could've happened with someone worse. But why hadn't he stuck around? Why hadn't he said anything? She never even got his last name, for fucks sake. She sat down at the table as Arthur poured her a mug of coffee.

"So, you have fun last night? Was Anita right?" Arthur asked.

"I'm gonna fuckin' kill her," Palmer muttered.

                                                                             ***

The next morning, Dodie awoke to the smell of pancakes, something she hadn't had in ages.

As she got up that Saturday morning, and raced downstairs to the kitchen, she found instead her mother sitting at the table and drinking coffee, reading a book. Behind the stove was her mothers friend Adam, who had left the previous night but was now back. Dodie seated herself at the table and looked between them.

"Did you come over here just to cook breakfast?" Dodie asked.

"People love to help in times of loss," Adam said, "Now, do you want chocolate chips in your pancakes or not?"

Dodie waited a minute, then nodded, grinning as Adam got to work putting chocolate chips into the batter. She looked at her mom, who reached over and stroked her hair before going back to her book. Dodie pulled her knees up on the chair and hugged them to her chest as she watched Adam cook.

"You wanna see how a professional makes pancakes?" Adam asked, and motioned for her to join him, "Come on, come over here, check this out."

Dodie quickly got up and joined him at the stove, as he taught her his trade secrets of pancake making. Regina just sat at the table, occasionally glancing over and smiling to herself. For the first time in months, this house once again felt like a home.

Turns out you really can get anything at the grocery store, she thought.

"Did you find everything alright?" Adam asked, as he finished checking Regina's groceries and bagging the last of them.

"I actually did have some trouble finding something," Regina said, grinning, "Do you maybe do a personal shopper sort of situation?"

"I do, actually, do you need help taking this stuff out to your car ma'am?" Adam asked, picking up her bags as she nodded and bit her lip.

"I'd really appreciate that, yeah," she said.

Within minutes they were in the backseat of her car, parked just far enough away from the grocery store, with the windows steamed up. It all seemed like some sort of fucked up roleplay fantasy, but Regina couldn't help but like it. Afterwards, they just got dressed again and sat in the front seat of the cars, passing a joint back and forth.

"I haven't smoked pot since I was just out of college, before my daughter was born," Regina said.

"Really? That's surprising, you seem like someone who would do it a lot," Adam said.

"I probably would've, but my husband was really oddly antidrug, even for the seemingly most mundane of them," Regina said, "god, you don't think about what the person you're married to is like while you're married to them, only once they're gone - whether divorce or death - does it really hit you...all their faults and their flaws, all the little things you used to write off as oddities now become annoyances."

"You said you loved him though," Adam said.

"I did...I won't deny that, even up to his death I loved him, but," Regina stopped, tapping her nails on the window and sighing, "...I don't know. We were really really close when we were younger, but I think having children changes your romantic dynamic, and afterwards we...we were still great friends but we weren't the same as before. It's hard to explain."

Adam reached over and patted her on the thigh, smiling as he said, "Hey, you don't gotta explain anything. You can just ramble and I'll listen, it's cool."

"...thanks," Regina said, blushing, "...you know, people always say young guys are the worst, but you're pretty alright."

"That's what I like to think. Not too great, not too shabby, just pretty alright. Does wonders for my self esteem," Adam said, making them both laugh as he handed her back the joint and she took a long puff from it. They must've stayed in that car for 2 hours solid.

                                                                              ***

Sarah could only have been prouder of Dodie's efforts at her first riding show if she'd been her own daughter. Standing near the gate of the arena, watching with hands clasped tightly and the biggest smile on her face, she felt like all of her horse knowledge had been shared with this little girl, and she was so happy to have been the one to share it.

She watched Dodie tell the horse to trot, to canter, to gallop, to jump over little barriers barely off the ground. She watched her do it all with ease and realized Dodie was a better rider than even she had been at Dodie's age. As Dodie finally pulled the horse back around to the side of the arena, Sarah re-entered and helped her dismount the saddle. Once her feet were firmly planted on the ground, Sarah hugged her.

"You did so well! You're gonna be great at tonights showing!" she said, "Are you excited?"

"I guess," Dodie said, looking at her feet.

"Hey, what's wrong? This is what we've been working towards, you should be happy!"

Dodie opened her mouth, then hesitated, closing it again and just opting to shrug her shoulders instead. Sarah knew that since her father had died, she'd become much more reserved, but even still she wanted her to have some sort of joy at what she was about to accomplish. Sarah knelt in the dirt of the arena and looked up at Dodie.

"Hey," she said, "do you like to play with toys still?"

Dodie nodded.

"Well, I have a bunch of old classic horse toys, plastic figurines and stuff, and I was thinking of donating them somewhere. Would you want them?" Sarah asked.

"...are you sure you're okay with giving them away?"

"Yeah, I'm too old for them, and I'd rather they go to someone who would appreciate and use them instead of me letting them sit around in dust," Sarah said, "Come with me, we'll sit down and I'll show you some pictures of them!"

Dodie smiled and nodded, then gave the horse half a carrot and walked off excitedly with Sarah, hand in hand. Dodie was lucky. She had a big support group between her new friend at school, her horse trainer and her family. Not all children, especially when grief is involved, get that.

                                                                                ***

"Why do you have so many groceries in the house?" Palmer asked, shutting the door to the pantry.

She'd come down for the evening to see her sisters horse show, but upon inspecting the kitchen for a snack, she was beginning to have issues with the way her mother was running things. She hopped up on the counter and sat there, pushing her grey beanie up a little on her head.

"I've been having groceries delivered," Regina said as she washed some dishes.

"What, like 5 times a day?" Palmer replied, making her mother chuckle.

"It's simply easier than going out and getting them, especially with having to do double the work now considering I'm the only parent around," Regina said, shutting the faucet off and turning towards her daughter while wiping her hands on a dish towel; she furrowed her brow and asked, "Must you sit on the counter?"

"I must," Palmer said, tearing open a small bag of carrot sticks she'd foraged from the fridge and biting into one; she added, "ya know, I don't think I ever had an extracurricular activity like Dodie does with her horses. At least not one I can remember. Maybe I did and it was so awful I repressed the memory."

"That's probably not far off from the truth, actually," Regina said, surprising her daughter by hopping up on the counter and seating herself, joining her as she lit a cigarette and said, "when you were about 5, you were part of a small group at the local library called The Bookworms, and it was a handful of little girls who loved to read. But you really didn't like going, despite liking reading, because the other kids made fun of you for what you liked to read."

"...really?" Palmer asked, popping another carrot stick in her mouth and chewing, her blonde curls bouncing as she titled her head, "...why? What was I reading?"

"You insisted on reading books about mummies and ancient burial techniques," Regina said, "eventually the woman who ran the group said it'd be best for everyone if you stopped coming, since you didn't like to participate to begin with and everyone was giving you a hard time anyway. Your dad was furious."

"He was always disappointed in me."

"No, not at you, at the woman running the group," Regina said, taking a long drag and then putting it out in the ashtray sitting on the counter with them as she continued, "He said 'whose business is it what she reads so long as she enjoys reading?' and frankly, I agreed with him. The whole point was to get kids interested in literature, ANY literature. It wasn't supposed to be a popularity contest, but somehow children and their adults always turn it into one. There isn't a single goddamned aspect of childhood that hasn't been morphed in some sick way into a popularity contest of sorts."

Palmer chewed slowly, waiting for the silence between them to lessen. Outside, a truck slowly drove by, and she could hear a dog somewhere bark.

"...was that what your childhood was like?" Palmer asked quietly and her mother sighed, scratched her forehead and shrugged.

"It doesn't really matter, all that matters is that the same doesn't happen for your sister," she said, "We need to focus on keeping her away from kids who might want to hurt her."

"Why would anyone wanna hurt Dodie?"

"They wanted to hurt you," Regina said, touching her daughters face and smiling softly, "and you two are more alike than you'd think."

Regina hopped down off the counter and went back to washing dishes, leaving Palmer sitting there, very confused about the exchange that had just taken place. Maybe she'd talk to Dodie later, after the showing, see what she thought about the whole thing. She was coming to realize that talking to her sister made a hell of a lot more sense somehow than talking to their mother.

                                                                                ***

Sarah was leaning against the wall right outside the changing room, her arms folded, her hair braided; she was already in her riding outfit, and her helmet was sitting at her feet. She pulled her sleeve up and checked her watch. The show was going to start in 15 minutes, and Dodie was the 2nd person showing for dressage. She exhaled and put her hands to her head as she slid down the wall and onto the floor. Suddenly she saw a pair of feet approach her, and she looked up only to see a woman about her age standing there looking down at her.

"Can I help you?" Sarah asked.

"I'm looking for my sister," Palmer said, "She's supposed to be in this dressing room, right?"

"She is in this dressing room, but she refuses to come out," Sarah said as Palmer sat down beside her.

"What?" she asked.

"I don't know. We were looking at photos of horse toys I was going to give her, and then suddenly she just...she just said she'd get changed and once I was out of the room she locked the door and refused to open it. Maybe she'll talk to you, considering."

"Maybe," Palmer said, "...don't take it too personally, okay? Things are just weird lately."

"I'm well aware," Sarah said as she stood up and, putting her helmet on her head, began to walk away as Palmer knocked on the door. After a moment or so, it opened a crack, and Dodie peeked out of the room and up at her sister.

"Are you alone?" she asked.

"I don't think I was follow, but you never know with spies these days," Palmer said, making Dodie chuckle as she opened the door further and allowed Palmer into the room. Once inside, Dodie locked the door once more and sat down on the little chair as Palmer stood in front of her. Palmer cleared her throat, folded her arms and asked, "So what's going on?"

"...he said he'd be here," Dodie whispered.

"What?"

"...dad said he'd be here for this, and he isn't," Dodie said.

"oh."

"yeah. oh."

Palmer got on her knees and put her hands on her sisters legs.

"Hey, dad said he'd do a lot of things for me and he never did," Palmer said, "but the difference is he chose not to do those. This he didn't have a choice about. He literally physically cannot be here because he isn't here anymore. If he were, he would be here, you know that and I know that."

"...but he's not here, still," Dodie said, tears rolling down her face, "and I shouldn't be sad, I should be used to it by now and-"

"Why the hell should you be used to it by now? Dodie, he's only been gone for a few weeks," Palmer said, surprised at her sister, "for god sakes, you should never get used to a parents death. Who said you should be used to it?"

"Nobody. I just don't want people to keep worrying about me," Dodie said, "Everyone seems to think I'm in need of help all the time but I'm not. I'm not in danger. I just miss dad."

Palmer leaned in and pulled her sister into a hug. She squeezed tightly, firmly, lovingly. Dodie hugged her back. After a few minutes, they pulled away and Palmer wiped Dodie's face off with her sweater sleeve.

"You know what? Dad's not here, but I am. Mom is. That girl outside the door seems to be your friend, and we all came to watch you ride," Palmer said, "Because you're good at it, not because it's expected of us to be here, but because we believe in your skills. Dad never once told me he believed in anything I did, so I'm telling you right here and right now that I believe in you."

Dodie smiled and nodded.

"Now let's go ride some horses," Palmer said, taking her sister by the hand and helping her leave the room.

                                                                             ***

"These are awesome," Palmer said the following day, as she helped Sarah unload the horse toys from the back of her car.

"Well, they should be, they were expensive when they were new," Sarah said, "Um..."

The girls stopped on the lawn and put the boxes down. Sarah looked anxious. She fiddled with her chocolate brown braid, twirling it between her fingers and chewing on her lip.

"I'm sorry about last night," Sarah said, "I...I try to be there for her, but sometimes I'm not enough. Sometimes she needs her family, and it seems like you're a pretty good sister because you manage to help her when she needs it most."

"I like to think I'm pretty good, yeah," Palmer said, stuffing her hands in her coat pockets as they started to walk down the street a ways.

"I don't have any siblings, so, like, I guess I don't have that instinctual sisterly nature about me, but I like to think that I'm empathetic enough about people that I wanna help them, even if I don't know them, because I don't think you should have to be related to someone or even be aware of who they are to wanna help them," Sarah said, "and I know that sounds pretty damn naive but, like...I guess I'm just still young enough to foolishly believe in the kindhearted benevolence of people."

Palmer nodded, thinking to herself as they walked, the fallen leaves crunching underfoot.

"Can I ask you a question? And it may come off as weird considering we have barely spoken, but...would you wanna go somewhere with me sometime? Have, like...I don't know...dinner, or something?" Sarah asked, making Palmer stop in her tracks.

"...uh...like a date?"

"I...I guess."

"I'm not...I'm not into girls," Palmer said.

"Oh," Sarah replied, blushing and looking back down at her feet, "oh god I'm embarrassed, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make things awkward."

"No I appreciate it, believe me, it's flattering," Palmer said, making Sarah blush again as Palmer waited a moment and then said, "I mean...I guess I don't know for sure, since I've never tried it, but, like...shouldn't that knowledge be innate?"

"Not necessarily," Sarah said, "but forget I asked, I'm sorry. I should get going."

Sarah turned and walked briskly back to her car, just as Palmer caught up behind her, grabbing her wrist and, uncapping a pen between her teeth, wrote her dorm phone number on it. Sarah looked at the number and then at Palmer, who shrugged.

"College is all about new experiences, right?" she asked, "I should be more open minded."

Sarah almost wanted to die from embarrassment, but instead she stuttered, then got into her car and drove away, leaving Palmer to pick up the boxes of horse toys and carry them into the house. From the upstairs bedroom window, unaware to Palmer, her mother was on the phone.

"My daughter just gave her phone number to my other daughters horse trainer," she said, sipping wine, "...anyway, can I see you tonight? She's here to babysit overnight, so I could sneak away for a bit."

"That sounds good," Adam said on the other end of the line, "Meet me outside the store, we'll do something fun."

Palmer hoisted the boxes up the stairs all by herself and then dragged them into Dodie's bedroom. Once inside, Dodie slid off her bed and onto the floor, where her sister collapsed to her knees, exhausted. Dodie tore open the box tops and started pulling the plastic horses out one by one.

"God...I am so out of shape despite being so young," Palmer said.

"Will you stay and play horses with me?" Dodie asked.

Palmer looked at her sister, and realized she could do for her what their father couldn't. She could be there right now, invested in her interest.

"Sure, but I get to be the paint," Palmer said.

This was the first time since the funeral that Palmer had returned to the house. Standing in the kitchen with her mother, while she piled through plastic container of food after plastic container of food from the fridge to the counter, Palmer couldn't help but feel good about being here. Life at school had felt rough these last few weeks, and she was happy to be around her mom again.

"Where the hell did all this food come from?" Palmer asked as she sipped her tea.

"Neighbors, friends, accquaintances. These people come out of the woodwork when someone dies and bestow a litany of meals upon you. I was thinking of just reheating a lot of it and having a sort of open table of food we could pick at all night," Regina said, plopping yet another container on the counter.

"Okay," Palmer said, shrugging, "that sounds like a good idea."

"You okay honey?"

"I'm alright. Yeah. I've been jogging with a friend at school lately, and that's been a nice change of pace," Palmer said, "how about you and Dodie?"

"She's been...reclusive. I don't know. I've been writing things down in a journal at night and that seems to help, but Dodie doesn't seem to want to talk or have anything to do with me," Regina said, "I just...I wish I could reach her the way your father could. I don't know why they had such a close relationship, but I wish I could get to that same point."

"It's gonna take some time, but I'm sure she'll come around," Palmer said as she sat at the table and watched her mother open each tupperware.

"Maybe," Regina said, "...this looks atrocious. If you can't cook, at least have the decency to give me take out for god sakes. My husband just died. Haven't I suffered enough?"

Palmer laughed, almost spitting her drink out, which made her mom smile. Palmer had always found her mother funny, but ever since her father had died, she'd found her mother even funnier, almost like she'd been holding back in his presence or something. Whatever the case was, Palmer was enjoying it.

                                                                            ***

Dodie and Nona were sitting on the swings at the local park, with Nona's parents sitting nearby, both reading a magazine together as the girls played.

"You've never had a sleepover?" Nona asked, "I mean...I guess I haven't either, but still. I could come spend the night at your house! We could watch movies and play games and stuff."

"I don't know, I don't know if my mom wants people around right now," Dodie said, swinging gently, "but she is trying to get rid of all the food people gave us at the wake, so maybe she would appreciate having someone else there to help eat it."

"Is it good food?"

"I don't know," Dodie said.

"Why did people give you food?" Nona asked.

"I...don't know," Dodie said, furrowing her brow, now confused.

Why had people given them food, and in such mass quantities? Oh well, made things easier on her mom. Regina hadn't had to cook an actual dinner for weeks. They either ordered food somewhere or ate leftovers from what was brought to the wake.

"I don't think tonight is a good night, but maybe tomorrow night? At your house?" Dodie asked, and Nona smiled.

"Okay!"

The girls continued to swing in silence as the cool fall air breezed by them. Now all Dodie could think about was the mountains and mountains and food that had been brought and left in their kitchen. Why did people bring so much food? It didn't make any sense to her. And why did her mother feel so obligated to use it all? Not all of it was even that good.

Maybe she'd ask her at dinner.

                                                                              ***

"What even is this?" Palmer asked, opening a lid ever so slightly and then making a hideous face at the repellent smell that seeped out of the container as she gently pushed it away from her across the table.

"I think they thought it was lemon chicken," Regina said, making Palmer chuckle again.

"I'm not a very religious person," Palmer said, "but that thing is an outright sin."

Regina laughed and sat down at the table with Palmer. She opened up a container and she sounded relieved upon seeing what appeared to be spaghetti inside. No way to screw that up, she figured. So she took a fork and start eating. The front door opened, and Dodie waddled inside, unzipping her jacket as she waved goodbye out the door to Nona in her parents car. Dodie seated herself at the table with her mother and sister and looked at the container of lemon chicken.

"What is this?" she asked, pulling it towards her, lifting the lid.

"Don't open it," Palmer said.

"Oh my god," Dodie mumbled as she made the same disgusted face and pushed the container away once again.

"I told you," Palmer said, the girls laughing.

"Mom, why did people give us so much food?" Dodie asked.

"Well, they see it as making my life easier. They bring food because they think it'll help. I've just lost my husband, you girls just lost your father. The last thing anyone wants to do is cook, right? They feel like this eases our lives somewhat. But...it really doesn't. If anything it just complicates things, because now I have half a pile of tupperware full of disgusting home cooked garbage that I can't eat, but feel too guilty to throw away. The only thing that would make things easier would..."

Regina paused for a moment, clearly trying not to cry in front of her daughters. Palmer and Dodie glanced at one another, concerned.

"The only thing that would make things easier would be to have your father back," Regina finished, "to have things just be like they were. But that isn't life. Life is messy and awful and terribly sad. But at least you girls are here. Not just to give me emotional support, but also to help me eat all this crap."

Palmer and Dodie cracked up, and then dug in.

                                                                           ***

"What is this?" Anita asked as she slid the container from the fridge in the dorm and opened the corner of the lid, then made a face and shoved it back into the fridge.

"I wanna say it's a science experiment, but I'm also leaning towards an act against God," Palmer said, making Anita laugh as she wiped the stench away from her face.

"Girl, you ain't kiddin'," she said as she walked over to the table and sat down with her.

Palmer offered to take some of the food off her mothers hands by taking it back to the dorm with her. This way it wouldn't go to waste, and she'd have meals to eat each day. Anita pushed her bangs from her eyes and looked at Palmer.

"So, I was gonna go out with some friends from another college tonight," Anita said, checking her nails as she chewed on them absent mindedly, "and I thought you might wanna come. We're gonna go to a really nice restaurant, plus one of the guys is someone I think you'd really like."

"That's nice of you, but I don't think so," Palmer said, "I think I'd prefer to eat what I brought back."

"Seriously?" Anita asked, "you'd rather eat The Dinner From The Black Lagoon than have a four star meal?"

"Yes," Palmer said, chuckling and nodding, "yes I would. I can't explain it but...it's like...ever since my dad died, I've been both trying to distance myself from him while getting as close to him as possible, if that makes sense? Eating this food, unholy as it may be, makes it feel like he's still here, kind of. It's hard to explain."

Anita nodded and patted her on the arm. She knew she didn't need to explain anything, and she knew Anita wouldn't ask any further. That was the thing she truly appreciated about their friendship, was how much the other one just understood. Anita got herself ready, said goodbye and headed out. While Palmer studied, she ate one of the containers - a chicken cheese dish - and kept studying until Arthur suddenly showed up to the dorm. He let himself in and sat down at the table, looking at the food.

"What in god's name are you eating?" he asked.

"Trust me, god's got nothin' to do with it," she replied, mouth half full.

                                                                              ***

Dodie was thrilled the following evening when she went to Nona's for a sleepover, and she wasn't forced to eat leftovers. Her parents made a meal together, featuring a roast and potatoes and broccoli, and it was the best thing Dodie had remembered eating in what felt like months. After dinner, the girls sat in the entertainment room under a pillow fort and ate ice cream sandwiches while watching The Little Mermaid.

"Your parents like to do things together," Dodie finally said quietly.

"Mhm," Nona replied, nodding, "they like doing things as a team."

"I don't think my mom and dad were ever like that," Dodie said, "I mean, they loved eachother, but...but I never saw them do anything together. Gardening, maybe, but that's it."

"...what's it like to not have a dad?" Nona asked, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't-"

"It's okay," Dodie said, "um...it's weird. I feel...less safe. Having a daddy made me feel safe, and now that he's not around, the world feels scarier. I know my mom takes good care of us, and she'd do anything to protect us, but...I really miss him."

"I would be so unhappy if my dad died," Nona whispered, looking at her remaining ice cream sandwich, "I'm sorry that happened to you."

"It's okay," Dodie said, "I mean...it's not okay, but you know. Thanks. Sorry I'm not very good at being friends with someone. I've never really had any besides my sister and my parents."

Nona smiled.

"Well, we'll get better at it together then!" she said.

Ice cream sandwiches, real friendship and no awful leftovers. What a good night this turned out to be.

                                                                             ***

Palmer and Arthur laid on the couch together, watching an old black and white movie on mute, while they ate out of the containers Palmer had brought back.

"This is not the devils work," Arthur said while chewing, "the devil may be evil but even he wouldn't do this to people."

"Heh," Palmer said, "well, if it helps, I gave you the worst possible one because I didn't want it myself."

"Glad to be of service. So what are you doing in on a weekend?" Arthur asked.

"I don't know," Palmer replied, shrugging, "Anita asked if I wanted to go out with her and some friends, she wanted to introduce me to some guy, but honestly I just...I don't really like socializing. I like things the way they are, just you and me, and sometimes her, and awful awful food."

"Maybe it's grief," Arthur said, "Sometimes when someone close to someone dies, the surviving person deals with grief by detaching themselves from everything else. Isolating. They're scared to lose anyone else, so they figure they'll just go through life on their own."

"But I'm not on my own, I have you two," Palmer said.

"Sure, but...Palmer we're in college and neither one of us is living like it," Arthur said, "What if I went with you? Do you just not wanna be paired up with some weird dude?"

"Mostly," Palmer said, "...I guess it'd be okay. We're about out of food here anyway now."

"Thank the lord for that," Arthur said under his breath, "Well, get your jacket on and let's go meet Anita and her friends. We need to start behaving like college kids. No more sitting around by ourselves anymore."

"I thought you liked sitting around with just me for company," Palmer said, sitting up as Arthur stood and started to pull on his jacket.

"I do, sure, but aren't you the least bit curious what it is other college kids do?" he asked.

"Not particularly," she replied, standing up and taking their containers to the kitchen, filling them with water and leaving them to soak in the sink; she leaned on the counter and sighed, "I appreciate it, Arthur, I really do, but I don't wanna be around anyone else right now. I like how things are. I'm not, I guess, happy or whatever, but...I'm as comfortable as one can be given my particular circumstances."

Arthur approached her as she started to sniffle and wipe her eyes on her sweater sleeve.

"...I'm here, I'll stay with you," he said, opening his arms as she fell into his chest, hugging eachother. Palmer was so appreciative of Arthur's friendship, and she rarely thanked him for it. She felt guilty. But she knew that, if the situation were reversed, she'd be there for him too. She knew she had friends she could depend on, and she knew Dodie had made a friend at school, but she felt bad for their mother...

...how did she handle being all alone after so many years of matrimony?

                                                                             ***

"I do feel sad," Regina said as she sat on her bed that night, wine glass in hand as she looked at photos of her husband, "I do, I'm not heartless, but I'm also grateful. We'd been growing apart, we both knew it, and neither one of us wanted to admit it. Something was going to have to change. I think we were sticking it out so Dodie could have a good home life, and we were still friends, but the romance was gone. He was someone else entirely."

The man sitting on the bed across from her ran his hands through his thick chocolate brown hair and sipped from his wine glass. He was at least ten years younger than her, and worked at the local grocery store.

"I'm glad you could come over, this is the first night I've been actually alone in years," Regina said.

"No problem," Adam said, "And I brought you some groceries, to replace all that atrocious garbage in your fridge. Those people should be ashamed of themselves."

"This isn't weird, right?" Regina asked, "I'm...I am so not used to this."

"Naw, it's not weird," Adam said, "I mean, the whole situation is a little weird, sure, but that's just because that's what death is like, it's weird and it makes things weird, but...hey...what you're doing, what we're doing, ain't weird."

Regina smiled as the candlelight danced across her face. She'd never considered being with anyone other than her husband, but she was thankful for a fresh start of sorts. She leaned in and kissed Adam, who happily kissed her back, as she pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, taking his wine glass and setting them both on the floor beside the bed.

"You sure you're cool with this?" he asked again.

"Yeah, I'm cool with it, you just can't be here when my daughter comes home tomorrow," she whispered, "now shut up."

And with that she put out the candlelight.

Dodie was sitting in her bedroom on her bed, trying to do her homework, but she was finding she was having a harder and harder time even getting started. Essay homework was never her strong suit, and in this case specifically she just wasn't exactly sure what to put down. The door to the room opened and her mother peered in, making Dodie look up at her.

"Hey Doodlebug," Regina said, "still doing homework?"

"I didn't used to have to do essays," Dodie whined.

"I know, things were easier in lower grades, but that's all part of growing up," Regina said, smiling as she entered and sat down on the bed beside her daughter.

"Maybe I should rethink this whole growing up thing," Dodie mumbled, making her mother laugh.

"Well, do you need some help? What's the essay question?" Regina asked.

"I'm supposed to write about the person I most admire," Dodie said, "but I can't think of how to do it."

"Having a hard time picking someone?" Regina asked, and Dodie shook her head, her braids swinging.

"No, I know who I'm choosing, I just don't know how to explain why," Dodie said.

                                                                           ***

Palmer was lying on the couch in her dorm, her legs across Anita's chest as she laid upside down, her head hanging off the couch, smoking a joint. Anita handed Palmer the joint, but she politely declined, shaking her head and shoveling chips from the bag they were sharing into her mouth.

"Don't they drug test the kids doing sports?" Palmer asked.

"Do I look like I care?" Anita asked.

"Fair enough."

"Do you not smoke?" Anita asked.

"I tried it once in high school, it just wasn't for me," Palmer said, "though, now with my dad gone...maybe I could use something to take the edge of."

"Don't get into drugs just because you're in grief," Anita said, exhaling smoke, "there's definitely pros to it, but don't do it just to escape something. I do it because it relaxes me, because god damn dude, being an athlete is stressful as hell and I need some kind of release that isn't sex or eating."

Palmer chuckled as the phone rang and she swung her legs off Anita and hopped up off the couch. She strolled across the room and answered the phone.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Hi," Dodie said, "Can I ask for help?"

"Of course, I mean, with as much as I can, considering I'm not there," Palmer said, "What do you need help with?"

"...I need help writing an essay," Dodie said.

As if college wasn't working Palmer hard enough, now she had to do 3rd grade essays to boot.

                                                                           ***

Palmer had never very well done in elementary school, especially when it came to writing.

She'd always struggled, partially because she'd been diagnosed with dyslexia, but she also just didn't enjoy putting her thoughts down on paper. She preferred to sift through them internally, like her mother did. She could recall one particular homework assignment from 5th grade where she was supposed to write down what she'd most like to do when she grew up, and how, since she couldn't think of anything interesting, she just wrote that she'd prefer not to grow up.

Suddenly counselors and teachers alike were worried to death about her. She was pulled from class for an hour a week and made to talk to the school psychologist, simply to ensure that she wasn't suicidal or anything like that. Palmer most certainly wasn't suicidal, she just lacked an imagination, and couldn't see the merit of deciding on a career when she was in 5th grade, especially since she'd likely switch her interest in careers only a year or so later. Kids rarely follow through on their plans from childhood.

She was surprised, actually, when she got to college and found herself enjoying doing essay work, but it didn't shock her one bit that Dodie was having the same trouble she'd had. Or, at least, she assumed she was. As it turned out, Dodie loved writing, and she'd already picked a subject on which to cover.

She just needed information.

                                                                               ***

"What'd you talk to your sister about?" Regina asked that night at dinner, and Dodie shrugged.

"I don't know. School stuff," she said casually, scooping peas onto her fork and eating them.

"Was she able to help you with your essay?" Regina asked, cutting into her fish.

"Yeah," Dodie said, "...she told me that she wasn't very good at writing when she was my age. She said that she didn't like it, and that it was hard for her but then dad helped her and she got a lot better and started enjoying it."

"That's true," Regina said, biting into her fish, "but her father showed her that with a little bit of effort, she can create worlds where she feels comfortable and happy when she isn't in reality. Sort of an escape, I guess. Your father loved writing, and he was excellent at it. I was always annoyed with him that he never did it professionally."

"...did Palmer leave any of her writing here that I can see?" Dodie asked, and Regina smiled, shaking her head.

"I'm sure she wouldn't want you to see any of it. I'm sure a lot of it's either extremely personal or extremely embarrassing," Regina said.

Dodie frowned. All she wanted to do was see what her sister was capable of, what she'd managed to learn from their father. No matter, she didn't need their mothers permission. She'd find her sisters writing that night after mom had gone to bed. Dodie was sneakier than anyone ever could've anticipated.

That evening, after her mother had fallen asleep, Dodie climbed out of bed and, with her little frog flashlight, snuck upstairs to her sisters room. She opened the door silently, crept inside and quietly shut the door behind her. She then started looking around her sisters room, though making sure to put everything back where it was so her mom wouldn't become suspicious, and finally found a series of ringbound pads of paper. She opened them up, sat down and wrapped her sisters sweatshirt around her, and started reading.

"Dad likes Dodie more than me. I should be happy, because Dodie is great, but I can't help but feel annoyed. I'm more annoyed at dad than her, obviously, because he should know how to talk to me, but he doesn't. He seems to only know how to be around small kids. I'm glad Dodie has our fathers attention, but I feel so alone. I don't really have any friends, and none of the boys I like seem to like me, so my only friends are mom when she's not working, and, of course, my sister. I sometimes wish she was an only child, because I feel like I'm just wasted space."

Dodie shut the book and immediately felt bad. She didn't wanna read anymore. She'd never known her sister felt so alone, and suddenly she felt guilty, as if she'd stolen their dad away from her. Now he was gone, Palmer was at college, and Dodie understood what being alone really felt like. She put all the journals back, exited the room and went back to her bed. As she climbed back in, she turned on her bedside lamp and started writing her essay.

She'd do for Palmer what their father couldn't.

                                                                            ***

Palmer woke up the following morning and rolled over on the couch, seeing Anita lying on the floor still asleep beside the couch, the bag of chips over her eyes. Palmer chuckled to herself, then groaned as she climbed off the couch and stumbled to the bathroom. She'd never really had a friend that was a girl before, so this "bonding" thing was new to her, but she was beginning to like it.

As she adjusted the mirror attached to the medicine cabinet and started doing some cleanup on her makeup and hair, she felt a sense of...belonging. This was new to her, and it sort of scared her, but she knew it was a good thing. She had to learn to have friends who were her peers and not her family. She sighed, pulled her eyeliner from the jar and started applying as Anita bumbled her way into the bathroom and dropped her panties, sitting on the toilet to pee, not even seeming to care that Palmer was there.

"Do you not have class?" Anita asked groggily.

"In about an hour," Palmer said, "No practice?"

"Not today, no," Anita said, "I may just snooze on your couch all day if that's cool. I could use the rest."

"My dorm is your dorm," Palmer said happily, "there's plenty of snacks and stuff in the little kitchenette. I've got frozen waffles, poptarts, whatever. Help yourself."

"Cool, thanks," Anita said.

Palmer gathered her things, and left to meet Arthur in the cafeteria. When she arrived, she found Arthur sitting by himself, and he happily looked up to greet her when she seated herself across from him. She smiled back as she plopped her backpack on the table in front of her.

"Your hair looks nice and curly today," she said.

"Thanks, I'm doing this new thing called showering," he said, "It's kinda legit, apparently people have been doing it for centuries."

Palmer laughed as she pulled out her course work for the upcoming class and started to look over it, just to make sure she'd done it right and she was happy with it. After a few minutes, she sighed and let the paper fall flat on the table as she looked back at Arthur again.

"...do you think I'm weird?" she asked.

"Yeah but it's why I like you," he replied.

"I've never had friends really, especially not friends who are girls, and now this track girl and I are hanging out all the time and it's...it's really nice. I feel good being a part of a feminine friendship. None of the girls at my old schools ever liked me. Actually, most people, regardless of gender, never seemed to like me much. My dad didn't even seem all that invested in me, really."

"Well, she likes you, I like you, your sister likes you obviously," Arthur said, "and dads are always more often than not gonna let you down. My dad is alright, but sometimes he can be a real jerk because I don't particularly adhere to his generations idea of manhood. Look at me, I'm wearing courderoy slacks and a sweatervest. Do I look like I care about sports?"

Palmer laughed again. She did enjoy having Arthur around to bounce things off of, this was true.

"...thanks for being weird with me," she said with a slight grin.

"Anytime, pardner," he replied.

                                                                           ***

"The person I most admire is my sister," Dodie said, standing in front of the class that morning, reading her paper, "...she's the coolest person I've ever known. She does whatever she wants and she doesn't let others tell her how to feel. She's at college now, and I wanna go to college someday because she did and she says it's cool. When our dad died, she came home and spent time with me to make sure I was okay, because she really cares about me."

Dodie waited a second, wiped her nose on her sleeve, then continued.

"My sister thinks our dad didn't like her much, and we learned I was my dads favorite, but I don't think that's fair. Parents shouldn't have favorites, and my sister is way cooler than I am. She's my favorite. She's strong, and smart and she does whatever she wants to do no matter what anyone thinks about it. She's always there to talk to me and help me, and she's a really kind and caring person. This is why my sister if the person I admire most, because even if she wasn't my sister, she's just a good human being, and I feel lucky to know her. I hope one day I can be even half as cool as she is."

Dodie waited for the teacher to give her the nod, letting her know she could go back to her seat. As she headed back to her chair, she noticed the girl sitting at the desk beside her. She had short orange red hair and soft almond eyes. Dodie sat down and the girl leaned towards her, whispering.

"I liked your essay," she said.

"Thanks," Dodie said.

"I'm Nona," the girl said, "you're lucky, I always wanted a sister, but my parents broke up."

"I'm sorry," Dodie said, trying to ignore her.

"...anyway, I liked your essay and your sister sounds cool. Sorry your dad died," Nona said.

"...thank you."

A moment passed as the next student got up and headed to the front of the class to read their essay, then Nona leaned in again.

"Do you wanna come over to my house this afternoon and play a game?" she asked, and after a moment, Dodie nodded.

"Okay, that sounds fun," she said.

As it turns out, nothing forces the Hurks girls to meet new people like the loss of those they already knew.

                                                                             ***

Palmer could remember sitting on the swingset in the backyard, watching her father play with Dodie when Dodie was only a few years old. She could remember being angry, being frustrated, feeling bad for being those things. She wanted to scream and hit him, but she never once wanted to hurt her sister. She loved her sister. This memory seemed to permeate Palmer's brain the entire day, and she found she was having a fairly difficult time getting through her classes without daydreaming.

Once the day was done, and Palmer wound up back in her dorm, she found Anita sitting still on the couch, eating a bowl of dry cereal. Palmer shut the door to the dorm behind her and stood there as tears began rolling down her face and Anita immediately got up, put her bowl down and put her arms around her friend.

"Whoa, what happened? You have a bad day?" she asked.

"...I think I hated my dad," Palmer said through her sobs.

"...it's okay," Anita said softly, patting her friend on the back, "everyone hates their parents at some point."

Palmer stayed and sobbed on her friends shoulder for a good 15 minutes or so. She'd never once contemplated that she'd outright hated her father, but now that the realization was sinking in, she felt even more gross about their relationship than before. At least when someone was alive and you were mad at them, there was the potential to fix it, but once they're gone...

...now she was taking his death personally, like he'd taken away the only chance they'd ever have to repair their relationship, a relationship he likely didn't even know was as broken as she assumed it was. Now she was mad at him for dying for an entirely different reason. While Dodie had a snack and played board games at her new friends house that afternoon, Palmer spent her day crying on her new friend on the couch. But both were grateful to have a girl friend to be with.

Sometimes the most healing thing for women, they'd both discovered, were other women.

Especially when men let them down so bad.

Palmer was sitting on the grass, watching nearby students practicing Tennis, while she ate a package of Graham Crackers. She couldn't stop thinking about her father, which a school therapist had told her was understandable, considering the recent events. They'd told her, "when someone dies, we often spend a lot more time thinking about them than we did while they were still with us", and Palmer admitted that, yeah, when he was still here, she had rarely thought about him. She heard the sound of shoes approaching her, and looked to her right to see Anita seating herself, eating nachos from a cardboard container clearly from a food truck.

"Watcha doin'?" she asked.

"Watching people play Tennis," Palmer said.

"Everything okay?"

"...I don't know," Palmer said, "I was at my moms house this past weekend, to help her with some stuff regarding my dad, and I learned that my sister was his favorite. It's been messing with me ever since. What's worse is how it wasn't even all that surprising. I mean, he rarely came to anything I did, extracurricular based, and after a certain age we just didn't speak much at all. I never really understood why, and I just sorta banked on the idea that we'd have time to sort that all out. Never occurred to me that that might not in fact be a possibility."

Anita nodded and scooped more nachos in her mouth, chewed, then looked at the Tennis players and then back at Palmer. She reached over and put a hand on her leg, smiling.

"What happened?" she asked, "At your moms? Tell me about it."

Palmer returned the smile, and sighed.

"Alright," she said.

                                                                       ***

The previous weekend, Palmer had gone back down to her mothers to help her deal with some paperwork and other things regarding their fathers death. Dodie stayed in her bedroom the whole time, which Palmer didn't mind, considering she wouldn't have time to spend with her anyway, as her mother was keeping her busy. As they sifted through box after box of paperwork - wills, deeds, medical records and more - Palmer came across a small beige photo album.

"What is this?" she asked, slowly opening it.

"It's a photo album," Regina said.

"Well, obviously," Palmer said, making her mom chuckle as she added, "I just mean why haven't I ever seen it? It's not familiar in the slightest."

"Parents are allowed to keep some private things, aren't they?" Regina asked as she opened up a small envelope and started reading through the letter inside.

"What if it's...porn?" Palmer asked, and her mom threw her head back and cackled.

"I highly doubt it's porn, but if it is, then I apologize for subjecting you to your fathers taste in adult materials," Regina said, making Palmer laugh a little. It was nice, just the two of them, trying to make the mood lighter when dealing with such an upsetting situation. Despite the possibility of discovering her deceased dads whacking material, Palmer opened the photo album anyway.

"Oh," she said, "it's just pictures of us."

"I told you it wouldn't be porn. Nobody puts porn in a photo album," Regina replied.

"Some people are classy," Palmer stated as she started to slowly flip through the pages, "...these are not photos I've ever seen, I don't think. These must have been his personal favorites or something. I remember when these were taken, I've just never seen them."

The photos ranged from vacation shots to shots from around the house to a handful of birthday shots, but there was one that caught Palmer's attention above all the rest, and that was the last photo in the album. It was of Dodie, and she was dressed as a dinosaur for Halloween. She looked to be about 4, and it was an extremely cute image. She had a plastic pumpkin pail grasped in her costumed hand, and she was standing on their back patio. But it wasn't the photo that caught Palmer's attention, no, it was the scrawled hand written words beside it that did. She recognized it as her fathers handwriting immediately.

                                                                  "My favorite."

And Palmer felt herself shrivel up a little inside. She already had enough of a complex about her relationship with her father - and thus her inherent worth and value as a person because of it - but now...this just added fuel to the fires of insecurity.

                                                                         ***

"That's it? It just said 'my favorite'?" Anita asked, the both of them now lying on their backs on the grass.

"Yeah. I always had a sneaking suspicion, and it wasn't so much a suspicion as it was a blatant certainty, but...seeing it spelled out, literally, like that...it just kinda hurt. My dad and I used to be close when I was little, but I don't know what happened. As I got older, he seemed to have no interest in me, and instead focused primarily on my sister. It was almost like he only liked us when we were little girls."

"Most men, even fathers, don't know how to deal with adolescent women," Anita said, "when my mom told my dad that I had my first period, he just shrugged and said 'well, these things happen'."

Palmer laughed, she couldn't help it, and she appreciated having Anita around to raise her spirits.

"I'm just saying," Anita continued, "I wouldn't take it personally."

"My sister is his favorite and I'm supposed to not take that personally?" Palmer asked.

"Sounds stupid when you say it, but sure," Anita replied, making Palmer smile.

Maybe Anita was right. Maybe she shouldn't take it personally. After all, after a while, she had even stopped trying to put in any effort to have a relationship with him. It wasn't like they never spoke, or they argued, or had any kind of bad relationship. They were friendly with one another, they hugged, they did talk. But it felt more like a relative she didn't see very often than a father she should know very well. Either way, Palmer knew she had to get her mind off it.

What she didn't know, however, was that Dodie couldn't get her mind off it.

                                                                         ***

"Palmer says I was dads favorite," Dodie said the morning after Palmer had left to go back to college. She was sitting in the living room, eating cereal and watching an educational show. Regina was getting her lunch ready for school in the kitchen, but upon hearing this, she stopped and immediately joined Dodie in the living room.

"She did what now?"

"She says I was dads favorite," Dodie repeated, "she said she found a photo book and it said I was dads favorite in it."

"You know, I'm starting to wish you two were the kind of sisters who couldn't stand one another," Regina mumbled, sitting down on the couch, "...does that bother you? Knowing that you were his favorite?"

"Why was I his favorite?"

"...Palmer reminded him of his sister," Regina said, "He and his sister did not get along, and you may have noticed she didn't show up for the services. I think it just...made him uncomfortable. He felt bad about it, if that means anything. He'd tell me constantly how he'd wish he could be closer with her, and how he could be a better dad to her, but he was never really able to overcome that sisterly connection. You, on the other hand, reminded him of me. He loved me, so he adored you."

"...but Palmer's good," Dodie said, "I like her."

"Well yes, and he did love her, she was his daughter too, but...Dodie, adults are stupid. I'm not gonna be cliche and say 'oh adulthood is complicated' because it isn't and relationships aren't complex or anything. It's actually all very simple, but people tend to overthink and overanalyze things. He loved her. Especially when she was your age, he loved her to death. A lot of people assume their parents play favorites, if they have siblings. Your father was just...more open about it, I guess."

Regina stood up and headed back into the kitchen to finish preparing Dodie's lunchbox. Dodie finished eating and watched her show in silence, thinking about her father, and about her sister. What had been so bad about her fathers sister that he couldn't stand being around his own daughter, just because they were somewhat alike? She didn't understand.

"Here you go," Regina said as she came back into the living room, lunchbox in hand, "put that in your bookbag."

Dodie should've felt happy about being a favorite, but instead she felt ashamed, like she was somehow taking their father away from Palmer in an entirely different way. She tucked the lunchbox into her bookbag and then clipped it shut. Maybe a good day at school would take her mind off the situation, but she doubted it. She thought about their father all the time.

                                                                          ***

"Well, for what it's worth, I'm not my fathers favorite," Arthur said.

Arthur, Anita and Palmer were all seated in the cafeteria, having ordered in a pizza. They had procured a little table in the corner, far enough away to drive any potential interest in their food off. Anita reached for yet another slice and took a bite as Arthur wiped his mouth on a napkin and shrugged.

"Which is somehow even more depressing, as I don't even have siblings," Arthur said, making Anita almost choke on her food.

"Damn dude, that is sad," she mumbled, making Palmer laugh a little.

"I just feel like he never knew me and he never seemed all that interested in knowing me," Palmer said, "like...like he was somehow ashamed of me or something. Like I did something at some early age to put him off of me entirely for the rest of his life."

"Even if you did, which I doubt, I'm certain it wasn't intentional," Anita said.

"Yeah, kids are not responsible for their parents shortcomings," Arthur said.

Just then a guy in a sweater and tan slacks walked up to the table and tapped Palmer on the shoulder. She looked up at him.

"Yeah?" she asked, pushing pizza crust in her mouth.

"You have a phone call," he said.

Palmer got up and followed him to the nearby phone, then watched as he walked away. She picked up the phone and lifted the receiver to her face.

"Hello?" she asked.

"I don't think I'm dads favorite," Dodie said.

"Oh yeah?" Palmer asked, smirking, happy to hear from her little sister, "and what makes you say that?"

"Because if I were dads favorite, he wouldn't have hid that away," Dodie said, "He would've made it really obvious, right? He wouldn't have hidden it in a box somewhere that nobody could find or see."

"I don't know, maybe he did it so it wouldn't hurt my feelings," Palmer said, "I'm not about to try and understand dad now. We never understood eachother before."

"...well, even if I was his favorite, you're my favorite, so it all evens out," Dodie said, and Palmer felt her heart swell. She had to try hard to keep herself from crying right there in the cafeteria. After the sisters said their goodbyes, Palmer instead left and headed out into the hall, allowing herself to cry a little there. When she was done, she came back inside, rejoined her friends, and continued eating her pizza. At least she was a favorite to someone.

                                                                           ***

The thing is...Regina knew the truth.

Her husband loved both his daughters, and he may have openly called Dodie his favorite, but she also knew that, secretly, he adored Palmer. Even if she reminded him of his estranged sister, he still adored her. He'd always loved his sister, and having Palmer was sort of like having his sister back. It was tough, sure, but it was also wonderful. The trouble was...he didn't know how to handle her. And as she got older, as she became more of her own woman and not so much daddy's little girl, he began to see the person she would be, and while proud, he was, again, unsure of how to approach her.

Lying in bed the night Palmer left again for school, Regina flipped through the little photo album by herself, smiling at all the wonderful memories captured within in, and when she came to the back of the book - the photo of Dodie during Halloween - she pulled that photo off the page and revealed the photo underneath it. Something Palmer somehow hadn't noticed. The photo underneath was of her husbands sister, also during Halloween, when they were kids. She was dressed as a pirate, and that was the photo that the phrasing had originally belonged to.

Regina sighed and set the book back down on the bedside table, shut her lamp off and rested her head on her pillow.

"Fuck," she mumbled, "...what a mess family is."

Palmer stretched, exhaling, as Arthur handed her her headband. She took it and put it on, then thanked him.

"No thanks necessary," Arthur said, shoving his hands into his coat pockets, his black curly hair bouncing in the wind, "Are you sure this is what you should be doing right now? Shouldn't you be...I don't know...resting?"

"No. I need to stay occupied. Focused. Anything to take my mind off everything," Palmer said, as she stared at the girl stretching beside her. Her name was Anita Cook, and Palmer hated her with a passion, but she couldn't understand why. She looked back at Arthur and nodded.

"Alright, well, I'm gonna take a seat, get some work done while you run," Arthur said.

"You don't wanna go to the library or something?" Palmer asked.

"Nah, the fresh air will do me good," Arthur said, turning and heading back to the bleachers. Palmer was incredibly grateful to have Arthur as a friend right now, and she wasn't sure how she would've gotten through the last month without him, honestly. Palmer then looked back at the track ahead of her, and waited for the whistle to ring into the air. As soon as it did, she and Anita took off like a shot, quickly outpacing every other runner there.

                                                                              ***

Dodie was standing near her appointed horse in the stables, trying to lift his hooves so she could clean them. Unfortunately, she was still not strong enough. Thankfully, her partner - a teenage girl named Sarah - was there, and she smiled and easily lifted the horses hoof. Dodie knelt and started scraping the stuff from between his shoes.

"Thank you," Dodie said quietly.

"How are you feeling?" Sarah asked.

"...empty," Dodie finally said after a moment of hesitation, "I don't feel good. I don't feel much of anything. I just miss my dad."

"I'm sure. I'm so sorry," Sarah said, letting the horses leg down as Dodie stood back up and put the tool back on the wall, then picked up a small brush and started to combing the horses mane.

"I like working with Gus, but I only get to do it once a week," Dodie said, "I'd love to own him, but mom doesn't wanna pay for a stable spot, and vet stuff."

"Understandable, a horse is a pretty pricey pet," Sarah said, "but isn't it nice that you get to do this once a week at least?"

"I guess," Dodie said, shrugging.

Sarah felt bad. Ever since her fathers death, Dodie had lost her sense of childlike joy that she used to have, and understandably so, given what had happened. Still, she wished there was some way she could make Dodie feel better. As her partner in their horse training, Sarah often felt partially responsible for the well being of the little girl she was paired with.

"How about, instead of me doing the trail riding this week, you do it?" Sarah asked.

"Really?" Dodie asked, looking up, "but that's for advanced riders."

"Well how you ever gonna become an advanced rider if you don't try it?" Sarah asked.

Dodie smiled for the first time in weeks, and this made Sarah feel better. She could stand to give Dodie one of her trail riding days, if it meant making Dodie feel better. Sarah had never lost either of her parents, so she could only imagine what Dodie must be feeling. She couldn't imagine losing her father so suddenly, and so violently. If horse riding was what distracted Dodie and made her feel better, then Sarah felt like it was the least she could do to help her feel happy again.

                                                                              ***

Palmer was sitting on the bleachers beside Arthur after the race had ended, and she was drinking from her plastic water bottle while Arthur continued doing course work. After a few minutes, he put his pencil down and looked over at her.

"What?" she asked.

"You're pretty fast," Arthur said, "did you ever run before coming to college?"

"I went for the occasional jog, but otherwise no," Palmer said, "I don't know what's really possessed me to take interest in it now, I guess it's just nice to have a hobby that takes place outdoors for a change. Feels like between course work, classes and general hobbies, I spend most of my time indoors."

"All that sitting can't be good for us," Arthur said, reaching behind him and rubbing his lower back, making Palmer chuckle. As they sat there, the girl she'd raced beside, Anita, walked by, checking her nails and not even paying any notice to her surroundings. Palmer felt herself want to shout something mean at her, and couldn't even explain why. She'd never been rude to people for no reason before, especially not other girls. She'd always fancied herself a feminist, always raising other girls up, not putting them down, so this behavior really made her feel bad.

"Ya know," Palmer eventually said, "I wonder if I should actually join the track team."

"You think you're that interested in running?" Arthur asked, making Palmer shrug.

"I mean, what have I got to lose?" Palmer asked, "Besides, give me something physical to do. Exercise is good."

"Is it?"

"That's what I'm told."

Arthur smirked, Palmer herself smiling as she took another long sip from her water bottle. She had never been a part of any teams or clubs in high school, but she could certainly use something to distract herself from how she felt these days, and running felt more or less appropriate, considering she was using it as a literal metaphor to escape her problems.

                                                                           ***

Dodie was definitely what would be considered a "horse girl", a hobby her father had all but encouraged. He'd used to come to her training, sit around and watch, encourage her, and she loved having him there. Since his death, her mother had done this a few times, but she more often than not had to run errands instead during the time Dodie was training. Sitting on her bed at home, looking at a large book full of horses, she couldn't help but feel somewhat excited about doing the trail ride that weekend. Suddenly the bedroom door opened and her mother stood there, wiping her hands on a dish towel, like she'd been washing something.

"Watcha doin'?" Regina asked.

"Looking at horses," Dodie said, "Sarah said I could do her trail ride this weekend."

"Well that was really nice of her," Regina said, walking in and sitting down beside Dodie, rubbing her back, "so...what do you want for dinner?"

"I don't know. Hamburgers? Can we get fast food?" Dodie asked.

"We could. I didn't really wanna cook anyway," Regina said, "Get your coat on and we'll go."

Dodie did as she was told. She slipped her shoes back on, pulled her jacket on and together, she and her mother headed out to the car. It was raining lightly, but they didn't mind. Dodie got into the backseat and Regina pulled out of the driveway, then headed toward their favorite fast food place downtown. As they pulled up into the drive through, Dodie peeked out her window and looked at the board, seeing the toys that came with the kids meals, and saw that the toys for the girls were horses. She immediately felt a pang of need.

"Can I get a kids meal?" Dodie asked.

"You sure? You don't get as much food," Regina asked, looking in the rearview mirror back at her.

"Yeah, please," Dodie said.

Regina looked over at the board, looking for whatever it was she might want for herself and then spotted the kids meal and realized why Dodie had asked. She smiled to herself and appreciated that Dodie was still such a kid. After they ordered and were given their food, Regina started driving home. Pulling up into the driveway, Regina got out of the car and walked around to Dodie's door, sliding it open only to find Dodie sitting in her seat, holding her horse toy in her hands, choking back tears.

"What's wrong?" Regina asked immediately, kneeling to her eye level and stroking her hair.

"...I miss dad," she said, and Regina pulled her daughter into her chest, soothing her.

"I know baby, I do too," she said.

She used to have a father. All she had now were horses. Sure they were nice...

...but they weren't the same.

                                                                           ***

Anita Cook was in the locker room, rubbing lotion on her leg, when she saw a pair of feet stop near her. She looked up, her braids falling back behind her as her eyes landed on Palmer, who was standing there watching her. Anita stood fully up and rubbed her hands together.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"I hate you and I don't know why and it makes me incredibly upset," Palmer said, being surprisingly direct.

"Well," Anita said, putting her hands on her hips, "that does sound upsetting. I don't even know your name, so I can't imagine why you might hate me. We've never even spoken."

"I think...I think it's subconscious," Palmer said, leaning against the lockers, "A little over a month ago, my father died. Seeing your parents coming by to cheer you on during your runs, it just...it makes my blood boil. Not only is my father gone, but he was never really all that openly supportive of whatever I did. He was super supportive of my sister, for some reason, and that always made me feel awkward."

"I definitely understand feeling awkward right now," Anita said, making Palmer smirk.

"I don't wanna hate you. It isn't fair to you, or me. I'm just...I guess I'm weirdly jealous that not only is your father still alive, but he's far more supportive than mine ever was. I guess part of it was my fault. I never really did anything to warrant support. I was never in any clubs or groups or played sports or anything, but still, he could've said he supported whatever my hobbies or interests were, ya know?"

Anita pulled her uniform off and pulled her regular shirt on over herself, pulling her braids out from the collar and letting them fall behind her, not interrupting, just listening.

"Why did you start running?" Palmer asked.

"I just like the feeling," Anita said, shrugging, "I guess I like it because it's a fairly solitary activity. I'm not an introvert or anything, but I'm also not exactly a social butterfly, and I hate playing stuff with others, so this is a good sport for me. I was always kinda athletic, but I always preferred solitary sports, like bowling. Things that don't automatically require a team or a league or whatever."

Palmer nodded, looking at her nails.

"...why are you running?" Anita asked.

"Because I'm a goddamned cliche," Palmer said, "I'm literally using it as a metaphor, because I'm such a trope. How original. Running from my problems..."

A moment passed as Anita picked up her own backpack and slung it around her shoulders, then looked back at Palmer.

"You wanna come running with me sometime?" Anita asked, "Like, not here at the school, but on an actual run."

"...really? Even after I openly admitted I hate you for no valid reason?" Palmer asked.

"Least I can do is try and make you like me," Anita said, smiling.

Palmer felt warm inside. She'd rarely had any girl friends who actually enjoyed hanging out with her, and since coming to this college the only friend she'd managed to make was Arthur. Seems like perhaps her fathers death did ultimately have a silver lining of some kind.

"I'd really appreciate that, yeah," Palmer said.

"Walk with me to my class, we'll make a plan," Anita said.

Palmer followed Anita out of the locker room and back into the school proper. It'd been so long since she'd actually done something with someone that wasn't grief related, and she felt appreciative of this change of pace. Unfortunately for Palmer, Dodie was having the opposite situation.

                                                                             ***

"I don't think she should do your ride," Regina said to Sarah, the two of them standing in the stalls while Sarah brushed her horse.

"Why?" Sarah asked.

"Because I don't think she's emotionally ready," Regina said, "I don't wanna hold my daughter back from the things that matter to her, but she...she's doing so poorly since her father died and I just don't think it's the right time. If maybe, in a few months, you wanna give her the offer again, then sure, but...not yet. Not right now."

Regina looked over her shoulder at the barn doors, seeing in the driveway Dodie sitting in the car and she sighed.

"...she wasn't anywhere near ready. My other daughter wasn't ready either, but she's apparently seeming to be more capable of handling this, but Dodie's only in 3rd grade. Her sister's in college. Dodie didn't expect to grow up without a father, and she doesn't know how the world works anymore. When you're that young and something that traumatic happens to you, it turns the world into this terrifying place instead of something curious and wonderful."

Sarah nodded, brushing her hair back behind her shoulders and pulling it up into a ponytail.

"...I appreciate what you're trying to do, but it just...it isn't the right time," Regina asked.

"I understand," Sarah said, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Were you ready?" Sarah asked, catching Regina by surprise.

In the last month or so since her husbands death, she'd been consoled, comforted, and even given plates and plates of food from friends and neighbors. But she'd never really taken a moment to consider whether or not she herself had expected his death either, or if she too were as shocked and potentially traumatized as her daughters were. She chewed her lip for a moment and then shook her head.

"No, I really...I really wasn't," she said, "He was my whole life, besides the girls, and...and he was my best friend and..."

She lost it. She started crying. She felt Sarah hugging her, and was surprised by this random teenagers generosity and kindness. After a few minutes she managed to recompose herself and finish her sentence, albeit her voice still shaky.

"...I'm sorry," she whispered, "I just...I haven't really processed it myself just yet. I've been so busy trying to make Dodie feel better that...that I haven't really had any time to grieve for me, you know? He was the love of my life, and I thought he'd always be here, at least until we were older. I never could've expected that he might not be."

"I've never really lost anyone," Sarah said, "but I understand, or at least I'm trying to. If you'd like, my mother does grief counseling. You could talk to her, and probably for free, considering how close Dodie and I work together here."

"...that's not a bad idea," Regina said, and then, checking her watch added, "I have to go. I'm sorry."

As she turned and began to leave, Sarah watched this poor woman get back into her car and pull away. Sarah had never expected to be involved in something like this. She'd always just assumed she and Dodie would be friends because of their interest in horses - sort of a voluntary big sister situation - and it'd never occurred to her that someday she might become more invested simply because of her proximity. Sarah turned back to the horse and continued brushing, thinking to herself how she would react if she lost one of her parents.

Sadly, she didn't have an answer, and she wasn't in any kind of hurry to find out.

                                                                               ***

That weekend, Anita drove Palmer up to a small old trail that she liked to use for running. Palmer and Anita both wore tanktops and shorts and sneakers, and Anita told Palmer she'd most likely want to put her hair up, because the worst thing to deal with was hair whipping in your face when you ran. As she parked and the girls got out, Palmer took in the nice clean forest air and shut her eyes.

"Smells good out here doesn't it?" Anita asked, and Palmer nodded in agreement.

"It does," she said, kneeling down and doing up the velcro on her sneakers.

"You ready?" Anita asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Palmer said.

With that, the two girls took off running down the provided paths. What a mantra she was coming to live by, Palmer realized. She was now facing everything with the fact that she was as ready as she'd ever be, and she'd never really be ready, so she'd better get used to winging it.

Life kinda sucked like that, but at least she had a running mate.

Palmer Hurks felt the sun warming her face through her window, and smiled at the feeling it gave her. It wasn't until moments later that she realized she shouldn't be feeling the sun, that the sun meant she had overslept, and, sure enough, as she grabbed her alarm she realized that yes in fact she had overslept and was late for class. Palmer rolled out of bed, combed her hair real quick, threw on a pair of semi dirty jeans and a random t-shirt before grabbing her backpack and rushing out her dorm, heading down the hall to her class. As she briskly headed down the hall, she heard someone come to her side, and looked to see her friend Arthur coming up beside her.

"You too huh?" he asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"My alarm didn't go off."

"Nobody's did. There was a power outage," Arthur said, "One of the girls on the floor above plugged a powerful hair straightener into the wall and blew out the electricity. Everyone's gonna be late."

"I can't afford to be late," Palmer said, swishing her long, bright blonde hair back behind her ear, "I've been late far too many times already this year and we're only three weeks into it. If anyone had told me that I would be responsible for my own adulthood I don't think I would've been in such a hurry to get to it."

Arthur laughed, and Palmer smiled.

She had met Arthur at orientation a few weeks prior, and the two had quickly become friends. Seeing as they'd come from the same town - but somehow hadn't attended the same schools during that entire time - it just made sense to be friends, if nothing else so they wouldn't feel as awkward as they would otherwise in such a new place. As they approached the class, their professor, a tall, young woman (it was hard to believe she was the professor, considering she didn't look much older than Palmer) was standing outside the door, which made Palmer nervous.

"Palmer," she said as they got to the door, "You're here."

"I know, I'm sorry, the power-"

"You have a phone call," the professor said, "You have to go to my office."

Palmer and Arthur gave one another a confused look, but Palmer just shrugged and did as she was told. She headed into the room, and then went to the front of the room, which had a small connected office that closed off from the rest of the lecture hall. As the three of them got to the office, the professor, Jenny Marigold, looked at Arthur, almost as if he should just take his seat, but Palmer said she wanted him to wait, so Jenny let it go. Palmer picked up the phone and lifted the receiver to her ear.

Everything after that was fuzzy.

                                                                         ***

Dodie Hurks couldn't move, and felt her legs pinned by something. It felt cold, rough, like metal. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't muster the strength. She felt exhausted, like she'd just spent the whole day running around. She rolled her head to the side and noticed her father lying there, further down the road, not moving. After a bit, she heard the sirens, and felt hands reaching for her. She drifted off after that, and wouldn't regain consciousness until hours later at the hospital.

The last thing she could remember was being in the car, heading to school. She and her dad had stopped for donuts, like they did every morning (something they never told her mom) and were singing along to a musical number from an animated feature. She couldn't even remember the car flipping, and she was pretty sure she didn't scream during the incident. The last thing she remembered seeing before she passed out and woke back up pinned on the road was her father looking at her and smiling. It was almost like he was telling her everything would be okay, even though it was so clear that they wouldn't.

When Dodie woke up, she found her mom sitting by her bedside, her eyes red as hell itself. Dodie groaned and tried to move, but her mother quickly quashed that and told her to just rest.

"I'm supposed to be at school," Dodie said softly, barely able to speak.

"I think they'll excuse you missing today," Regina, her mother, replied, gently pushing Dodie's bangs from her face, adding, "...just take it easy. You just need to take it easy right now and save your strength."

Dodie nodded, and shut her eyes again, trying to sleep. Regina looked at her watch and exhaled deeply. She'd called Palmer an hour ago. She knew it was a few hours between there and the college, but she really wished she was already here. She needed to see her other daughter.

                                                                            ***

"Are you okay?" Arthur asked, driving Palmer, who was staring deadeyed out the windshield.

"...I...don't know," she said quietly, "I don't know how I am. It seems so surreal, like this sort of thing only ever happens in movies or something. You grow up thinking your dad is invincible, but I came to peace with the fact that he wasn't a long time ago, once I was aware of how death worked. It just never occurred to me that I might not have as much time with him as I thought I would."

"You don't know that, he was just in an accident, he could be okay," Arthur said, trying to stay optimistic, something Palmer appreciated.

"I wanna believe that," she whispered, "...but it's hard to."

By the time they arrived at the hospital, three hours later, Palmer and Arthur found her mother sitting in the hallway outside of Dodie's room. Regina looked alright, all things considered, but you could tell from looking at her face that she'd spent the last few hours sobbing hard. Palmer hugged her mom and then introduced Arthur, saying that he drove her here so she wouldn't be alone. Regina thanked him for his kindness.

"Where's Dodie?" Palmer asked.

"She's in this room behind me. She's okay enough. Her leg is fractured, but she'll be alright in the long run, physically anyway, god willing," Regina said.

"Where's dad?" Palmer asked.

Regina looked at her hands and didn't answer.

"Where's dad?" Palmer asked again, already knowing the answer thanks to her mothers silence, but she still needed to hear it said out loud for it to be real. After a moment Regina looked up at her daughter, and she, for some reason, almost laughed.

"He's gone, sweetheart," she said, her voice cracking.

The words broke Palmer's heart into pieces, and she stumbled, only being caught by Arthur who was stood behind her and then helped her into a nearby seat. It was a rough day for the Hurks family.

         ***

            3 WEEKS LATER

Palmer stood in front of her mirror in her old bedroom, looking at her face, unsure whether it was appropriate or not to wear makeup to a funeral. She put her hands on the desk and looked at the photos she had taped around the vanity mirror; family vacation photos, photos of her and her father during daddy/daughter dances, and things of that nature. Palmer smiled, even if it hurt. She had been trying to process her grief for weeks now, but to no real avail. It simply hurt far too much to admit he was gone. A knock on the door came, and Dodie entered.

"Mom wants to know if you're ready," Dodie said.

"I'm ready, yeah," Palmer said, "yeah..."

She sat on the side of the bed and pulled out a small jewelry box from under the bed, then looked at Dodie and smiled.

"Come here," Palmer said, and Dodie, still somewhat limping, stumbled on over to the bed and sat beside her older sister. Palmer opened the box and pulled out the false bottom, taking out a really old piece of jewelry, a pearl bracelet.

"What is that?" Dodie asked.

"It was grandma's," said Palmer, "You never got to meet her, but she gave me this when I was your age, and I haven't worn it in years. I think you should have it."

Dodie held out her wrist and let Palmer put the bracelet on, then she inspected it.

"It's pretty!" Dodie said brightly, the first time she'd shown any kind of enthusiasm about anything in the past few weeks.

"It is," Palmer said, nodding, "Yeah, and I thought you would like it cause it was kinda close to dad, being that it was grandmas."

Dodie kicked her feet, swinging them off the bedside as Palmer stood up and went back to her desk, clipping her bangs back from her face. Dodie looked up and watched her sister primp at the mirror, and then asked

"Why didn't I die instead of dad?"

"I don't know," Palmer said, "Why would you even ask?"

"Because people need him more than they need me," Dodie said, and this statement just about made Palmer cry on the spot. She hide her face and wiped her eyes carefully, then turned and went back to the bed, rubbing her sisters back.

"That isn't true at all. Mom and I need you, we love you," she said, "Why would you say something like that?"

Dodie shrugged, then leaned against her sister, feeling Palmer's arms tightly around her.

"I miss him," Dodie said quietly.

"Yeah, me too," Palmer said, kissing the top of her sisters head.

The funeral was small, respectable, and somber, as funerals have a tendency to be. Dodie and Palmer sat in the back (being in the front made Dodie nervous, so Palmer agreed they could sit in the back), and whenever anyone came to speak to them, to give their condolences, Palmer always dealt with them so Dodie never had to talk to anyone. Anything she could do to make the day easier for her little sister, Palmer did. Afterwards, during the wake back at the house, Palmer helped her mother downstairs with the food and various refreshments.

"I have a newfound respect for people who cater," Palmer said as she stood beside her mother in the living room, making Regina chuckle.

"It's a dirty, tough business, yeah," she said, "Have you seen your sister?"

"Not since we got home," Palmer said, "She's probably hiding. Today's been hard for her."

"I believe it," Regina said, just as another guest came up to speak to her, giving Palmer ample chance to slip away and go search for Dodie. She headed up the stairs, first to her bedroom but didn't find her there. Then she checked her parents bedroom, but nobody was there. However, as she was about to leave, she heard a shuffle from the closet, and she opened it, finding Dodie tucked away, her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them. Palmer climbed into the closet and shut the door behind her.

"Do you want a snack?" Palmer asked, but Dodie just shook her head; Palmer smiled, "Remember when mom and dad used to go out on dates when I was in high school, and we'd play hide and seek? You always hid in here. You're pretty easy to find."

"I like it in here," Dodie said, "...it smells like dad."

"It does, yeah," Palmer said, pulling on one of her fathers suit jackets, bringing the sleeve to her nose and taking a long whiff, "dad smelled funny."

Dodie giggled, which made Palmer laugh. The girls had always had a habit of cheering one another up, and it was nice that that tradition had continued, even with Palmer at college now.

"When do you have to go back to school?" Dodie asked.

"Probably this coming week," Palmer said, "I have extensions because of a family emergency, but I can't miss that much coursework. I'll get too far behind and won't be able to catch up."

"I wish you didn't have to go," Dodie said, "It's weird not having you home."

"I know. I'm sorry," Palmer said.

"...can we talk more?" Dodie asked.

"Of course! You can always call me anytime!" Palmer said, "I mean, when we're not in school or whatever, obviously. But of course we can."

Palmer and Dodie stayed in the closet for an hour or so, until the house had started to finally see a good chunk of its guests leave, and then went to the entertainment room to watch cartoons. Anything to keep her little sister from losing her innocence was something Palmer felt was important to do. But the thing was...during all of this, nobody had asked how Palmer was. She and her mother had been so invested in making sure Dodie was okay, understandably given how young she was, but nobody had ever stopped to ask Palmer if she was okay.

But it was fine. Palmer was always the strong one. She was always okay.

Until she wasn't.

                                                                            ***

Palmer was sitting in the library, doing homework, when she heard a chair pull out from across from her. She looked up to see Arthur sitting down and setting his bookbag on the table. They smiled politely at one another, and he handed her a candy bar, which she graciously accepted.

"Did you buy this for me?" she asked.

"No, actually the machine just gave me double, so," Arthur said, "Come on, I'm not that thoughtful."

Palmer laughed as she tore the end of the wrapper off with her teeth and bit into the candy.

"...so do you need help catching up on anything?" Arthur asked, "Cause I've got all sorts of work aides and whatnot that-"

He didn't even get to finish before Palmer was sobbing. He came around the table and put his hand on her shoulder, and she leaned into him, hugging him tightly, crying against him. He didn't say a single thing, he just let her cry. It was the first time since her fathers death that she'd finally let go, and it felt good. A bit embarrassing that it was happening here, in a college library where everyone could see, but she didn't care. She needed to cry, and she was grateful to have Arthur there for that. After she stopped, she wiped her face on her sweater sleeve and exhaled as Arthur went back around to his chair and sat back down.

"Thanks," she said quietly, and Arthur smiled warmly.

"No problem," he said, the two of them getting to work, not speaking another word about it.

                                                                              ***

The first day Dodie went back to school, her mother had to pack her lunch, something her father used to do. As she put her food inside the plastic container, she was puzzled to see, in her husbands easily recognizable handwriting, the word "Doodlebug" on the side of the container. How had she never noticed this before? Dodie came into the kitchen and sat at the table, eating her cereal.

"How long has this been here?" Regina asked.

"I don't know, since first grade," Dodie said, "Dad put it there."

Regina smiled and ran her thumb over the word, nodding to herself. It was something he'd used to call Dodie when she was really little, but hadn't called her that in over a year. She got her composure back and went back to finishing packing the lunchbox, then put it on the table.

"Put that in your bookbag," she said as she headed to her bedroom to get dressed.

Dodie looked at the word written on the box and she smiled for the first time in weeks. She would always be his Doodlebug, and she was happy that nobody could take that away from her at least.