“Why? Did you have something to say to me?” he snapped, and she bristled, as Andy watched with a frightened look. He had never seen them fight that way before, and for the past few days they had done nothing but, and he was worried.

After dinner, Brad went to his desk to look for something. And Andy went to his room, looking forlorn, followed by Lizzie.

Page cleaned up the kitchen, cleared the table, set it for breakfast, and then listened to her messages. There were at least a dozen more, inquiring about Allie. And several of the young people at the funeral had asked when they could see her. Mercifully, the hospital was turning everyone away, and whatever flowers came for her were being sent to the children's ward, because there were none allowed in ICU. Page was glad she didn't have to see any of Allie's friends. She knew she couldn't have coped with their fears too. And the last call on the machine was from a reporter who said he wanted to ask her some questions. She didn't even bother to write his name down when she jotted down the others.

She called a few of the young people back who had left messages on the machine, but as always it was exhausting trying to explain it all to them, or telling the story again and again to their mothers. She had thought about putting a special recording on her message machine, telling everyone how Allie was, but the news was still so frightening, and the hope so slim, that Page couldn't bring herself to do it.

She went in to check on Andy finally, and she found him sitting on his bed, crying and talking to Lizzie. He was explaining to the dog about Allie's accident, and that she was gonna be okay, but she was still asleep, her eyes were bandaged, and her head was pretty swollen. It was a summary of sorts, though not entirely accurate, but it was close enough, and Lizzie wagged her tail as she listened.

“How's it going, sweetheart?” Page asked tiredly as she sat down next to him on the bed. She was grateful for the time at home with him, but it was also obvious how upset he was, and how little she could do to relieve it. She was happy that she had decided to spend the night at home with him. He really needed both of them, it was a good thing Brad had come home too, although he certainly wasn't being pleasant.

“How come you and Daddy fight all the time now?” he asked unhappily. “You never used to do that.”

“We're upset …about Allie …sometimes when grown-ups are sad or scared, they don't know how to show it, so they crab at each other, or they yell. I'm sorry, sweetheart. We don't mean to upset you.” She stroked his head as she tried to reassure him.

“You sound so mean when you talk to him.” How could she explain to him that his father was cheating on her, and their whole marriage had gone out the window. She couldn't, and she wouldn't. “It's hard being at the hospital with Allie.”

“How come, if she's just sleeping?” None of this made any sense to him. It was all so difficult, and so complicated, and the grown-ups he loved were acting so strangely.

“I worry about her a lot. Just like I worry about you.” She smiled, and his brows knit again.

“And Daddy? Do you worry about him too?”

“Of course I do. I worry about all of you. That's my job.” She smiled at him, and a few minutes later she ran the tub for him. And after his bath, she read him a story. He went to say good night to Brad, but he was on the phone, talking to someone, and he waved him away brusquely. Brad's nerves seemed to be on edge, not only with Page, but with Andy. Coming home for dinner hadn't been easy for him, and he wasn't entirely glad he'd done it. And he knew there'd be hell to pay with Stephanie when he saw her. Now that things were out in the open with Page, Stephanie was less willing to be patient.

Page put Andy to bed, and tucked him in, and he asked her to leave the light on in the hall, which he seldom did. Only when he was really frightened of something, or very sick, but they were all a little of both at the moment.

“Okay, sweetheart. I'll see you in the morning.” She kissed him again, and was grateful for him, as she walked back to the kitchen to put away the dishes.

She caught a glimpse of Brad sitting in the living room, but she didn't speak to him. There seemed to be nothing left to say anymore. And she had guessed correctly that he was talking to Stephanie on the phone when he'd been interrupted by Andy.

She emptied the dishwasher, finished cleaning up, returned a few more calls, and made herself another cup of coffee.

It was ten o'clock when Brad wandered in looking anxious and unhappy. It had been another difficult day for both of them, with their earlier exchange, the Chapman funeral, and dinner together had been far from easy. She was going through the mail, which she hadn't seen in two days, and looked up to see him.

“I guess things aren't going too well,” Brad said unhappily, as she glanced at him. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and for an instant Page remembered all the feelings she'd had for him for so many years, and wondered if through it all, he had really been a stranger. They had had two kids and shared sixteen years, and suddenly he had turned out to be someone completely different from the man she thought she lived with.

“You might say that,” she said sadly, as she poured a last cup of coffee. Her nerves were so on edge anyway, the caffeine no longer seemed to make much difference. “I think Andy is becoming aware of it.” Who wasn't? The air between them was palpable with grief and anger and disappointment.

“It's been a rough week.”

“Yeah. A doubleheader.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Brad asked with a puzzled expression.

“Allie, and our marriage.”

“Maybe it's all part of the same thing. Maybe once she's okay again, we'll be able to work things out.” It seemed odd to hear him say that, particularly since he'd been adamant about not giving up Stephanie. She wondered what he was saying. Was there hope for them? Had he changed his mind? Had something happened? She couldn't figure him out anymore, and wasn't sure she cared to.

“Maybe we could still work it out,” he said again, but he didn't sound convincing as he said it. “If we want to.”

“Us and Stephanie? Is that what you have in mind, Brad?” She said it bitterly, sounding exhausted. “Let's not start this again, or tease each other with false hope. Let's just get Allie back to life again, and then we can turn our attention to this. But right now, to be honest, I just don't have the stomach for it.”

He nodded. He couldn't disagree with her. And suddenly, Stephanie was pressuring him. It was almost as though she felt upstaged by Allyson and she was suddenly making demands he'd never before had to contend with. She wanted to spend more time with him, to be with him constantly, to have him spend the night when she knew he shouldn't. It was as though she was trying to prove something, as though she was trying to say that he belonged to her and not Page now. But the pressure on him, from both of them, was driving him crazy.

But before he could say anything to Page in answer to what she'd said to him, they heard a terrifying scream from Andy's bedroom. They ran to him as fast as they could, and Brad got there first. Andy was hysterical and still half asleep. He had had a terrible nightmare.

“It's all right …it's all right, champ …you're okay … it was just a bad dream …” But neither of them could calm him. He had dreamed they'd all had an accident, and everyone had been killed except him and Lizzie. There was blood everywhere, he said, and broken glass …and they had had the accident because his Mom and Dad were fighting. Brad and Page looked guiltily at each other over his head, and eventually he settled down again, although Page discovered he had wet his bed, and she had to change it. He hadn't done that since he was four, and it worried her even more. He was deeply disturbed even at an unconscious level.

“I guess you don't need a shrink to figure that one out,” Brad said softly as they went to their bedroom.

“He's been very upset about Allie. It's very frightening for him. He hears us talk about how serious it is, and he still hasn't seen her. For all he knows, she's already dead.”

“That's not all that's bothering him, and you know it,” Brad said.

“I know,” she admitted quietly. “We have to be more careful.” It was obvious that he had heard them fighting.

“I hate to say this,” he looked at her unhappily, “but maybe I should move out for a few days, or until we're all a little calmer and can handle what's happening.” Page was shocked by the suggestion.

“Would you move in with her?” They both knew who she meant, but Brad didn't answer.

“I can stay at a hotel, or rent a furnished place in the city at 2000 Broadway.” But Page also realized that it was the perfect opportunity for him to be with Stephanie, and not have to deal with his wife's reproaches and accusations. Given the circumstances, she wasn't even sure she blamed him, though it would certainly be difficult to explain to Andy.

“I don't know what to say,” Page said, looking at him, saddened by his suggestion. They had come a long way in a short time, to a place she had never dreamed they would get to. But as she looked at him pensively, the phone interrupted them, and she grabbed for it instantly in case it was about Allie. It was in fact the hospital. Allie's brain was swelling more, and the pressure was becoming too dangerous for her now. If there was no improvement, they wanted to operate in the morning. And they wanted her or Brad to sign the papers again in case they had to. They felt comfortable waiting through the night, unless something changed, but in all likelihood they felt she'd need surgery the following morning. It was her second brain surgery in four days, but Dr. Hammerman said there was no choice. Just like the first time they had operated, if they didn't, she wouldn't make it.