Ellie had spent the night on the couch, and Clay felt certain she knew about Trina. She'd been acting so strange the previous night, like something had been the matter, perhaps something she'd planned to confront him about but couldn't muster up the will. She'd gotten drunk enough to make herself throw up, and he wondered if it had been part of a plan to confront him about his affair. When he'd tried to comfort her, she'd been so rude to him. His worry had permeated throughout the night, making sleep impossible. Now the morning had arrived, and Ellie had locked herself in the master bedroom after telling Avery he was her favorite pterodactyl but she had a headache.

As cartoons mesmerized Avery in the living room, Clay went into the bedroom, where Ellie sat on the bed, up against the headboard, closing her eyes in pain. Was it pain from the headache, or something else?

"You okay?" he asked, shutting the door behind him.

"No."

Leaving her alone with her hangover and sour mood was a good option, but he knew something was going on with her and that they needed to move past it. She probably knew about Trina, and he needed to confess and apologize and beg for forgiveness, to try to save his marriage while he still could. "Do we need to talk, Ellie?"

She opened her eyes, sitting up a little straighter. "Yes, actually. We do." She paused before asking, "Did you lie to me?"

Fuck, he thought, because he now he felt certain: this had to do with Trina. This was it.  Everything he'd built might be lost, and it would be all his fault. Why had he done this again?

He didn't answer, knowing his silence would be enough. His heartbeat sounded in his ears.

Ellie continued, looking straight into his eyes, "The other night, you said that Dylan was going to a friend's house. But you knew he was going to that girl's house."

Relief spread over Clay like a body high. This wasn't about Trina. There was a chance Ellie might not find out about her; there was a chance Clay could save their marriage without putting it in a more precarious position first. He tried not to show his relief as he said, "I knew he was going to a girl's house."

"Why didn't you tell me that?"

"He wasn't particularly keen on you knowing."

"Did you know it was the girl from the grocery store whose son almost killed our cat?"

"What are you talking about?" He really had no idea what she was talking about. Truth be told, if their cat was killed, he might just say good riddance. That guy got more affection from Ellie in a single sitting than Clay did in a month.

"Dylan invited her over here without asking us, and her son chased Waffles with Avery's lacrosse stick. And that's not all. Haven't you heard about how her son punched another kindergartner?"

He had heard about that, from Trina, but he wouldn't tell Ellie.

"The girl with the bright red in her hair," Ellie clarified.

With that detail, he knew exactly who she was talking about. He suddenly wondered why Ellie was so upset about this. Was she jealous? "Why is it such a problem that Dylan went over to her house?"

"He hasn't gone over there just once. He's seeing her. Everyone at Lake End thinks she's a terrible mother and that her son needs some serious discipline, probably from another school. And now he's with her."

"Look, Dylan is an adult, just like you. He makes his own choices."

"He's making terrible choices."

Right then, Clay recalled how happy Ellie was when Dylan first got to Mountain Springs, and how unhappy she was now that he was seeing some girl.

"You know," he said, and he almost decided to stop himself before impulse carried him forward. "I think you lied to me. I think you might have feelings for him. Is that why you're angry about this?" He regretted it as soon as it came out, especially once that look of confused anger started forming on Ellie's face.

"Feelings? Yes, I have feelings for your son, for my best friend. Very strong feelings. I feel like he could be better than he is and give his daughter a great life. That's what I feel. But he can't do that with another Katie, especially another Katie who has a son with sociopathic tendencies!" Her voice was raised to an uncharacteristic level; Ellie never yelled, especially since she'd read yelling was an ineffective and potentially damaging parenting method. But right then, her voice rivaled thunder, and Clay didn't doubt Avery had heard her through the door. She must have realized this, too, because she continued just above a whisper, "Now, do you really want to lecture me about caring for your son's success? About having feelings for him?"

Swallowing, Clay regretted his little accusation. Even if Ellie did harbor feelings for Dylan, why should he get mad at her, after the shit he'd been doing?

And she was right. Katie was the worst thing that ever happened to Dylan, even though she'd blessed him with Talia. Clay didn't know much about this other girl, but if she was anything like that drug-addicted, uncultured, poor excuse for a mother, then he didn't want Dylan having anything to do with her.

When Dylan had been with Katie, Clay had tried to maintain a good relationship with him. He'd known his son was going through a rough time, and he'd blamed himself for Dylan's choices. So he'd continued giving Dylan money and paying for his apartment, even after Dylan's employer had told Clay he was worried about Dylan and that he was pretty sure Dylan had stolen from him and was otherwise behaving erratically. It wasn't until Ellie had sat Clay down and told him he was enabling Dylan's drug addiction that he'd finally realized he needed to stop, even if it meant temporarily severing his rocky relationship with his son.

Making his relationship with Dylan rocky again was not something he wanted to do, but the last thing he wanted to do was enable him. "I don't know what we can do," he said finally.

"He's not going to listen to me. I think you should have a father-to-son talk with him. Tell him that you don't think he's making the wisest choices. Can you do that for me?"

Clay nodded. "I'll talk to him."

***

He decided to talk to Dylan the next day, on Sunday, since Dylan planned to come over to change the oil in Clay's Lexus as a way of paying for all the furniture Clay had bought for him, in spite of Clay's insistence that he didn't need to pay him back. In the garage, Metallica blasted while they drank IPAs, and Clay almost felt like they had reverted back to old times, and it made him hesitant to ruin the moment. Like a coward, he waited until Dylan laid under the raised car atop a skateboard, a means of avoiding looking him in the eye.

"How'd things go with that girl the other night? The one you told me about over the phone."

"Fine."

"I didn't realize who she was until Ellie told me."

Rolling out from under the car, Dylan sat up, stared at him, and said, "And who, exactly, 'is' she?"

Clay struggled to come up with a response. "The young mother whose son has some issues."

"So the fuck what?"

"I just hope you're making good decisions."

"Good decisions?"

"Have you slept with her?"

"Well you told me to get lucky, didn't you?"

"I do want you to get lucky. We're men, you know? We need release, really. But, even if you've slept with her, it doesn't mean you need to make any commitments to her."

Now sitting up straighter, Dylan started shaking his head. "You should win an award for your parenting advice, you know that? 'Oh son, you should just use her like all the other men in her life have. Use her and throw her away.'"

Dylan's impression of Clay made Clay wince. "I never said you should throw her away. It's just...you don't need to make her a part of your life." His words sounded like the words of a true asshole, even to himself.

"You're unbelievable."

Thinking of Ellie, Clay reached for his last resort. "You don't need another Katie."

Dylan looked angrier right then than Clay had seen him look in a long time. "You think that Katie and Leah are the same? Why? Because they're both poor? News flash, Dad. They are a world apart. Leah doesn't do drugs. Katie was an addict. Katie doesn't take care of her kid. Leah does. Leah is here and living. Katie might be dead for all I know!" Dylan's eyes looked red and wet right then, and Clay realized he never wondered how much Dylan thought of Katie, how much he tried not to think of Katie. And Clay had just reminded Dylan of her, and he felt bad about it, like he had ripped the scab off of one of his son's worst wounds without warning.

Truthfully, Clay never really thought Leah was like Katie. He'd seen Leah at the school; she was probably the only mom with unnaturally colored hair, and she looked young, younger than Ellie, but somewhat aged, like she'd done drugs. He didn't believe Dylan when she said she didn't, but maybe it was in her past. Still, Leah looked small and meek, while Katie had been loud and defiant, one of the rudest girls Clay had ever met. And Dylan had fallen hard and fast for her.

Katie had been twenty-seven years old when Dylan had found her; he'd been nineteen. When Clay had told Dylan he thought she was taking advantage of him, Dylan was quick to point out Clay's own hypocrisy, so he never mentioned it again. But still, the situations were different. He'd given to Ellie, while Katie had taken from his son. She'd taken his money, she'd trashed his apartment, and she'd turned him into a tattooed heroine junkie. Sure, she'd given him a daughter, but since she had no presence in Talia's life, Dylan was all on his own. She'd taken his freedom.

"I just...I don't want to enable you to make bad choices," Clay said, trying to force Dylan to realize that his advice came from a place of care. "I don't want to see you hurting again."

Dylan stood up then, wiped off his hand with a cloth, and said, in a very low voice, "You know what hurts me?"

Clay didn't want to know, and luckily, Dylan could tell, because he didn't verbalize it before he went back into the house to wash his hands. A few minutes later, he and Talia left without saying goodbye.

Ellie's nod of approval greeted Clay when he came into the kitchen, but he still felt bad, like he hadn't done the right thing. No; he felt terrible, like he'd done the absolutely wrong thing.

Out of the kitchen and into the foyer he walked, where he noticed that one of the pictures hanging on the wall was now missing—the picture from Ellie and Dylan's graduation.