WHEN REAGAN WOKE up the next morning, she was shaken from sleep by her own heart nearly springing up from her chest. The faint sun, its color soaked in gray from the clouds, roused her from sleep as she curled up on her side in bed. When she'd finally opened her eyes and seen Kate's empty bed across the room, she had flown upright.

Kate and Robbie. Reagan had promised that she would drive them to school that morning. She didn't have to be at Wilson's for work until later in the afternoon.

Reagan scrambled to shove her covers off of her body, praying that somehow her younger siblings were downstairs and that it was not as late as she thought it to be. As she stood up by her bedside, she took notice of a scrap of notebook paper resting on her nightstand that stopped her in her tracks.

Reag,

You looked too peaceful for me to wake you. Robbie's taking the bus and I'm riding with a friend. Love you.

Kate

Reagan sighed as she read the paper, slapping it back down to her nightstand. She wished that she didn't feel the guilt creeping up on her. If anything, it had been really nice of Kate to permit her to continue sleeping. She'd been out admittedly late at Scott's the night prior.

But Reagan hated nothing more than letting her brothers and sisters down.

She pulled on a pair of sweatpants and walked downstairs, grateful to have the house to herself. With no noisy twins and a lecturing mother, Reagan finally figured that she could find peace in eating her French toast at the dining room table while reading the newspaper. She didn't even like reading the newspaper. It just felt right for the occasion.

Before she could hop off the last step of the stairs, she was taken by surprise to see Richard in the hallway as she came into view. He was adjusting his tie, straining his neck upwards to fiddle with the knot at the base of his throat. He heard Reagan gasp in shock, lurching backwards.

"Oh my God. You scared me," she said heavily, clapping her hand over her chest. She had nearly forgotten — Richard would be home during the day now that he did not have a job to hurry off to in the mornings.

"I'm sorry," Richard said sheepishly, facing his eldest daughter. "Guess this is still unexpected, huh?"

Reagan analyzed her father, her stare flashing from the tie he'd been working on all the way down to his dress shoes. Despite not having any work to go into, he sure did look ready for a day at the office.

"I thought . . .?"

"I'm going to the Job Center," Richard explained. "Hopefully someone has an open position available for me to take."

"Oh," Reagan mumbled.

As ridiculous as it seemed, she felt that her dad at least deserved a day to himself to process what had happened. If it had been her, she would have wanted to spend the day after getting fired on the couch, channel surfing with a pint of ice cream in her lap. But Richard wasn't like that. He was determined to keep moving forward without wasting a single day.

And of course, Kimberly would have never allowed it. To her, it was prudent that Richard find a new job as soon as possible. Even one day of unemployment on his end put the whole family at risk in her opinion.

"I see your sister and brother let you sleep in," Richard said with a kind smile.

"Yeah." Reagan laughed slightly. "Kind of strange, I guess. I thought Robbie would be doing jumping jacks on my bed trying to get me up. He hates the bus."

"He may hate the bus, but he loves you and wants you to be well-rested. Kate told me you looked exhausted when you came in last night."

Suspiciously, Reagan wondered how Kate had been able to read the expression on her face when she had arrived home. Reagan had walked through their bedroom door and spied Kate laying in bed with closed eyes, appearing to be asleep.

She felt a burst of warmth in her heart when she realized that her sister had been secretly waiting up for her.

"I was out late at a friend's house. They wanted to jam and I said yes."

Richard raised his eyebrows with interest. He loved drumming almost as much as Reagan did. She knew he took great pride in her talent, especially since he had spent so many of his off days from work teaching her how to play as she grew up.

"How'd that go? Learn anything knew?"

"Not to brag, but I already know all there is to know," Reagan teased. She slipped into the kitchen, opening the fridge and scouring each shelf for orange juice. Her stomach was beginning to ache with hunger.

"I wonder where you get it from," Richard said back, grinning.

"Only the best. It runs in my veins."

"Well, thank goodness you've got such great genes then."

"I think my good genes began and ended with you, Dad."

Reagan could have argued that she was not deliberately taking a dig at Kimberly, but then she would have been lying to her father. Even he knew that she could be viciously bitterly towards Kim at times.

"Come on now, Reags," Richard chided. Reagan shrugged as she grabbed the necessary ingredients for breakfast. She loved her dad, but she wouldn't apologize for her snideness. She didn't have to around him because he inherently understood what kind of hell she was going through.

"Well, I suppose you do have a right to be upset with us," Richard sighed, adjusting the glasses that slid down the bridge of his nose. Reagan rarely saw him without his spectacles. He looked older with them, but they also reminded her strongly of his goodness and familiarity as her dad.

"I'm not upset with you," Reagan said, deliberately excluding Kimberly out of the conversation. "You couldn't help what happened yesterday."

She didn't say the word 'fired.' The fear of triggering bad memories within Richard of what it had been like to shamefully walk out of his office frightened Reagan. She didn't even want to envision the image herself. Her strong, hero of a father, walking with his head down out of the place he had dutifully served for years.

It killed her to think about it.

"I'm sorry you have to work so much Reagan. Truly, I am. You don't deserve it."

Reagan's back stiffened as she faced the kitchen counter, methodically sugaring her toast and covering it in a pool of syrup. It was odd, but as much as she despised the position she'd been put in by her parents, she would have rather them not apologize for doing so.

Richard's meaningful admission of remorse did nothing for Reagan except overwhelm her with a flurry of different emotions. She felt terrible guilt, especially hearing the painful regret in Richard's words. Reagan had promised herself to do a better job of disguising her annoyance and she had failed. Richard must have known she was miserable, and that would only hurt him in return.

There was an obvious awkwardness that coincided with Richard's apology as well. No matter how many times he expressed sorrow for his daughter's situation, there was nothing that could be done to change it unless the Abners miraculously won the lottery. At the end of every sullen day, 'sorry' was only a word and would cause no change in Reagan's predicament. If anything, it was a reminder that her problems were there to stay.

"Please don't apologize Dad," Reagan mumbled. "I do what I can to help."

Richard sensed Reagan's resistance to discuss the topic and joined her by the countertop, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He stared into her face, aware that she'd zeroed in her attention on her French toast with severity. She was doing all that she could not to look him in the eyes.

"I'm proud of you, honey. More proud than I can explain."

Reagan grabbed her plate of breakfast with both hands and shuffled away from Richard's one-armed embrace, forcing a smile on her face.

"And I'm proud of you too. You're the best dad out there."

Richard chuckled and took a seat next to Reagan at the dining room table. He hid the sigh that ballooned in his lungs. Reagan's penchant of masking her emotions in order to protect others was certainly an inherited trait and was easily recognizable to him.

"I don't know about that. But thank you."

They were quiet for a moment, filling the kitchen with only the sound of Reagan taking bites of her French toast and Richard scuffling the soles of his shoes against the linoleum. Reagan personally did not mind the voids of silence that sometimes ensued with her dad. She liked that they could sit together, saying nothing at all but still enjoying the other's company.

"I bet your friends were impressed by your playing last night," Richard finally said.

"Maybe. I think they're more mad at me for not wanting to take up their offer of joining the band."

"Oh yeah?"

"Uh huh. My friend Chris likes to call me a musical tease."

Richard chuckled again. "Maybe when things calm down around here, you can join the band. Who knows? Maybe you'll be famous."

"I wouldn't mind the joining part," Reagan said. "But I'd have to decline to being famous."

"I used to say the same exact thing to my bandmates when they'd talk about making a record. I was only it for the fun."

"I do it because it's my only talent. Other than playing the drums, I'm useless."

"That's not true Reagan," Richard said seriously. Reagan shook her head back at him.

When would he realize that his daughter was only good for working at an auto repair shop and being a cover-songs-only kind of drummer?

Richard didn't have time to press the matter further. He checked his watch, one of his usual ticks, and tsk'ed under his breath.

"I've got to get going. Enjoy your breakfast sweetheart."

He stood up from the table and grabbed the briefcase on the counter, masking his face into a look of bravery as he headed for the front door.

Reagan felt a pang of sympathy for Richard, remembering all at once how lucky she was to have him in the midst of her troubles. She may have grappled with having Kimberly for a mother, but Richard was the ultimate father.

"Dad," she called out.

He stopped immediately, turning back around to face Reagan with the clear intent to solve or answer any question she could have possibly asked. He would always be there for her.

"Yes?"

"I love you," she said earnestly. A small smile lit up her face, a single piece of encouragement for Richard.

He smiled back. His eyes easily told how much her sentiment meant to him.

"I love you too, Reags."