"I'm gonna grab my suitcase and uh, head back home."

"Really?" Dahlia asked surprised as they pulled into the driveway.

"Yeah."

"Well, it's Sunday tomorrow so we won't have to go to the library."

"Dahlia, you say it like going to the library is a bad thing," Roy smirked, following Dahlia inside.

"You know what I mean," she rolled her eyes. "William?"

"Dear."

A tall gentleman stood in the living room facing the back porch. He turned around rather surprised. His hair was clean cut and blond and his eyes a deep brown.

"What are you doing here?" Dahlia asked.

"Your brother and I went fishing today, don't you remember us talking about that last night?"

"I must have forgotten. I've been stressed lately, sorry."

"Who is...this?"

"I'm-" Roy began.

"This is my friend Roy," Dahlia began. "You remember me talking about my fiancé, William."

"I-I was just leaving," Roy said, wheeling around William to grab his suitcase.

He could've imagined standing up they would've been the same height, if Roy not taller. His face was red, he didn't know why.

"You didn't mention him at dinner," William said, "that you had someone staying here."

"Temporary," Dahlia explained. "Right, Roy, until you get back on your feet."

Back on your feet.

"Yeah, I'm on my way out now."

"And you know my fiancée how, Roy?" William asked.

"I grew up here with your fiancée," he said, anxious to get the hell out.

William intimidated him.

"He was technically staying with Dade, William, not me. We happen to work at the same library."

"That's lovely that you're working," William said to Roy.

"Yeah."

William laced his arms around Dahlia's waist and they locked lips.

"See you later," Roy said.

"B-bye-" Dahlia began, but Roy had already shut the door.

He didn't know if it would be right to just go in without knocking so he sat there deciding for a good three minutes. Roy decided if the door was unlocked he wouldn't knock. He tried the door handle and evidently let himself in.

Roy's father sat at the kitchen table reading the same newspaper Whit had gotten at the library.

"You disappeared quite quickly this morning," he said.

"I had...work."

"Already?"

"Dahlia's boss offered me a position at the library."

"And the lady is working too, huh?"

"Two women work there, actually."

"Two ladies and a cripple. What an establishment."

"Please don't call me that," Roy frowned.

Pop pursed his lips and set down the paper.

"That's a lot different than what you were doin'."

"Very."

"Your luck in Los Angeles?"

"It ran out," Roy said.

"Tell your old man about it," Pop said.

"You really want to know."

"You're my son. I deserve to know what my son is doing."

"I didn't find much work the first year. As a stagehand, really, that was mostly it. I auditioned for roles, got a few callbacks, nothing came of it. Stuntwork, though, that's what I really wanted to do. You know that."

"We know that."

"I mean they were giving out money to people willing to climb buildings, pretend to get shot. The adrenaline....it was...alluring. So I watched the others. Many. The way they did it. The way they jumped, hit, and fell. I wanted to do it."

"And you did."

"I met a great girl. Alice. I might've loved her, Pop. And there was this stunt, none of the other doubles wanted to do. For this western. Someone said it was downright suicide but did I care? No, I needed the money. And an idiotic part of me thought if I could impress her, she just might return my affections. But I guess she was only pretending to love me."

"That's now it happened."

"Jumping onto a horse from a train bridge sounded so easy to me. I didn't think the bridge was that high either, I thought they were all overreacting. So they gave me the money. And I jumped." Roy's breathing grew heavy. He was almost reliving the moment. The patchy memories of events filled his skull. "If I landed on my neck it would've killed me. I didn't."

"I see," Pop said, his voice almost a whisper.

"I could've signed a contract. They could've given me money. Alice wanted the money. I didn't sign it. This nurse..." Roy began, "this damn nurse came into my life, she finally treated me like I was normal. Like I was someone, I wasn't just an injury. It was Alice's sister, she never bothered to tell me." Roy felt tears coming. He forced them back, refusing to cry in front of his father. "I left without saying goodbye. Just like I did when I left home."

Pop said nothing.

"One stunt. Just once. All for nothing."

"You're alive," Pop said.

"But for what."

"The lord only gives us as much as we can handle."

"I don't think I can handle it, Pop."

"You got yourself a job already. You made a decision to leave your bad choices and return to a place you hated, lookin' for the good in it."

"You can't use me on the farm. I don't belong here. Not this town."

"Why'd you come home, Roy?"

"I was beginning to get attached."

"To whom?"

"That nurse."

But she wasn't just a nurse.

"Just like I did-"

"With Dahlia."

"Dahlia found someone else. Alice found someone else. Sooner or later MacKenzie would've found someone better. Someone to provide for her. Drive her places. Dance with her. I couldn't take that away from her."

"She never knew you before the accident, Roy. She loved you for you then."

"I don't think she ever said she loved me."

"Actions speak louder than words."

"It's true."

Pop stood up and cleared his throat. "There's whisky."

"Please," Roy said.

He was sad, angry, and confused.