Harriet awoke to the sound of a doorbell ringing. Her back ached as she pried herself from the roughness of an unfamiliar couch. The chocolaty scent of a plateful of fresh brownies reminded her where she was. "Carol, how long have I been out?"

"You conked out when we put the banana bread in the oven, so a little over an hour and a half. Feel free to help yourself to a brownie if you want."

"Thanks." Harriet's stomach growled as she bit into the gooey, walnut-studded chocolate. What was the last thing she'd eaten, that pretzel at the mall?

"Would you mind getting the door?" Carol punched a ball of dough, leaving a fist-shaped indent before she reshaped it into a rough loaf. "They've been going at it for a while, and I'm fixing to introduce them to the business end of a wooden spoon if they don't knock it off."

Harriet sighed as she resisted the pull of the kitchen and dragged herself to the door.

Frank greeted her with a spine-cracking embrace. "There you are, babe!"

"Here I am." She winced at the tightness of his hug and gave him a pat on the back. "You're crushing me."

Frank loosened his grip. "Have you been here this whole time?"

"Where else would I be?"

"Heck if I know. You didn't answer any of my texts."

Harriet extracted her phone from her purse. A handful of texts from Patricia and Vicky, dozens of from Frank, and three increasingly concerned voicemails greeted her. "Sorry, had it on silent."

"This pot ain't gonna call the kettle black, but I will say Sam was gettin' real worried. If you hadn't grounded him, he'd have knocked the door down looking for you."

At least Sam had known not to try and appeal to his dad to get ungrounded. She was not in the mood to have another argument with Frank about following through on discipline.

After reminding Carol she'd be happy to come help her bake anytime, Harriet retreated home with Frank's hand wrapped around hers. "Can't have you running off on me now that I've found you," he said jokingly.

True to his father's word, Sam launched himself at his mom the moment she stepped through the door. "You're back!"

"Yup," she said, holding him close with fingers still sticky with dried-on pineapple juice. "Have you been behaving yourself?"

"Dad says so." He waved his favorite dinosaur toy in the air.

"If that doesn't make me feel ancient," Frank said with a chuckle, "I don't know what will."

"It's okay, Daddy," Sam said. "Grandpa dreams in black and white, too."

As Frank mimed growing wrinkles, Harriet let out a soft chuckle. Normally, she'd be laughing her head off or even joining in on the teasing, but her heart wasn't in it tonight. "Honey, did you happen to make dinner while I was out?"

"Indeed I did, babe." He led Harriet and her snarling stomach into the dining room. "Drumroll, please!"

Sam slapped his hands onto the table, and Harriet halfheartedly tapped her fingers against it. To heck with the theatrics. She was hungry!

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you..." Frank placed a loaded plate in front of Harriet. "Meatloaf!"

Gravy and ketchup pooled around a slab of ground beef like a puddle of blood, leaking into the dollop of mashed potatoes and soggy green beans. Harriet shoveled it down so quickly she barely tasted the thick globs of sauce on the lukewarm meat.

"I know it's obviously not as good as yours," Frank said, "but did I at least do an okay job, or is this sous chef getting permanently demoted to busboy?"

"It's alright," Harriet said.

"Just alright?"

"It gets the job done." She nudged her plate over to Sam so he could finish off the last of the mashed potatoes. How the kid could be such a black hole without ever giving himself a stomachache was beyond her.

"Eh, I'll take that as a compliment. I'm not exactly used to making anything more complicated than mac and cheese." He scooted out Sam's chair. "Time to go to bed, buddy."

"But I'm not tired!"

"Your mom and I need to have a chat about some boring adult stuff. You don't want to hear that, do you?"

Sam fled to his room in a flash. He had no idea how lucky he was. Did he know Peter had been forced to grow up far too soon? At least now that kid was probably in better hands, as much as she hated to admit it. Ryan wasn't exactly father of the year material, but it was hard to argue Peter would be better off eating nothing but sweets and microwave meals.

With Sam tucked in, Frank returned to his seat across from Harriet. "I don't suppose you want dessert?"

"No thanks. Carol already spoiled me rotten."

"Good, otherwise I'd have to tell Sam a couple of his pudding cups went 'missing'." His smirk faded into an uneasy grin. "Please tell me you at least had fun while I was worrying myself sick."

"I said I'm sorry, okay. I just lost track of time."

Frank put up his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm not saying you didn't. I just wanted to know you were okay with all the... you know..."

"Does it look like I'm okay?" Harriet pointed to the dark circles rimming her eyes.

"Babe, I just want to—"

Harriet's voice rose like thunder breaking through pitch-black storm clouds after a drought. "That nap on Carol's couch was the best sleep I've had in weeks. Every time I close my eyes, all I can hear is Dad coughing. And then it stops. That's the worst part, Frank. Every time I wake up, I think he's gone because I can't hear that goddamn coughing anymore!"

Harriet's breathing came in ragged, sob-choked gasps as her words sunk into the evening quiet. The only other sound was Sam's soft snoring. Bless his sweet little heart, there could be a hurricane battering the house, and he'd still be snoozing away.

Frank cleared his throat, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "I had no idea things had gotten that hard on you, babe."

"My dad's dying, my friend lost custody of her kid, and I yelled at Sam, and yet you still don't understand how hard this is for me?" She barked out a bitter laugh. "Makes sense, I suppose, seeing as you're never around when I need you."

"Please let me start now." He pulled her close, stroking her hair as she wept into his shoulder. "I can't fix everything you're going through, but the least I can do is be here for you, and love you, and tell you it's not your fault. Bad stuff happens sometimes, babe, but we'll get through this together."

She shut her eyes and listened to the steady rhythm of his heart, letting her breathing even out to match it. Finally, she let out a long breath. "Thank you. And I'm sorry I was being a bitch. Dinner was nice."

"Nah, it was terrible! Meatloaf, my ass. That was a meat brick covered in salty brown water." Frank grinned as she struggled not to laugh. "See? Told you I'd help you. I've been missing that gorgeous smile."

"I'd like to give my compliments to the chef."

He leaned down. "I'm all ears."

She brought him into a kiss, her lips warm and soft against his.

He moaned softly as he deepened the kiss before slowly pulling back. "I'm game for all the compliments you can give me, but we'd better take this to the bedroom before Sam wakes up. Daddy's nowhere near ready to give him the talk."

They barely took the time to reach the bed before collapsing on each other. Harriet's nimble fingers knew exactly where to go to make him happy, and his lips caressed her with the same tenderness they had during their first time together all those years ago.

Once they were finished, they snuggled under the covers together. "I'll always be here for you, babe," Frank said before planting a kiss on Harriet's forehead. "Never forget that."

She pulled him closer, nuzzling her head into his chest. "Right back at you."

As his breathing slowed and his snores rumbled through the room, Harriet silently waited for the usual nightmares to come to her in the darkness.

They never did.