Lydia rushed into the room and took in the sight on the floor. The room was a wreck from Devon's hasty search for more alcohol, and once again her husband and son were hugging each other and crying.
"Devon, you really shouldn't have mixed tequila with what I gave you."
Her reproach fell on deaf ears. Sighing, she sat on the floor at Devon's other side and leaned her head on his shoulder. Don looked over at her, his face twisted into an expression of agony. Devon had at least stopped screaming, but he was still crying and hiccuping sighs. Don left his arm draped over Devon's shoulder but shifted so he sat similarly to Lydia. The three of them remained on the floor of the office until Devon drifted off to sleep.
Once she was sure he was unconscious, Lydia got up and retrieved a blanket from the living room. When she returned, Don was standing and looking down at their son.
"I don't know how to fix this, Lyd."
"I don't, either. I wish we'd found her today. I wish she'd never wandered out of the office."
"Me, too." He kissed the side of Lydia's head. "I'll stay here with him. You go back to bed."
She nodded, leaning into his body for the strength she was severely lacking just then. "I love you, Don."
"I love you, too, Lyd. Try to sleep." He hugged her tightly before watching her leave the room. Straightening the papers and the silver frame Devon had knocked over, he felt his chest constrict at the sight of Devon, Kathy, and Hailey on the day his granddaughter was born. Their happiness had been limited, it seemed. Don felt anger surge through him at the unfairness of Devon losing his daughter after suffering through Kathy's death. His grip tightened on the corner of the frame before he set it down gently. Breaking things would get him nowhere.
Sitting at his desk, he turned his computer on. With bleary eyes, he squinted at the article that had run in the paper that morning. It was a description of the missing girl and her last known location. There was a bit about her age and grade and the name of her school before it asked anyone with information to call the Merrimac Police Department's tip hotline. He studied the picture they'd used; she was at their house, but he couldn't remember exactly what for. She had Kathy's blue eyes and light brown hair, which had gotten long enough for Devon to learn to braid it. It took a few barrettes to hold back the shorter pieces of hair, but he'd done a good job overall.
Don was glad Devon was finally sleeping. He was so devoted to Hailey; several steps beyond being a great dad. He constantly said it was Hailey that saved him after they lost Kathy. She'd gotten him out of bed in the mornings, gotten him to focus outside himself and on the baby girl who needed him. She'd been his reason for living in a time when he didn't think he could stand to put one foot in front of the other anymore.
Hailey had been the salve over his mortal wounds, and now they were again ripped open and bleeding profusely.
Don himself had spent plenty of time crying the past day and a half. He loved Hailey fiercely. He loved the baby Lori was carrying. He loved Lori as he'd loved Kathy. It was how he was built, and he wasn't ashamed of it. He was the nurturer in his family—not that Lydia wasn't nurturing, but Don was more so. He could see himself in Devon, and Lydia in Caleb. Loyalty and love were the fundamental elements in his family, and he was proud he'd helped raise the boys into strong and compassionate men.
When he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, Don stretched out on the floor near Devon after grabbing a throw pillow and another blanket to use as his makeshift bed. Intuitively, he knew Devon would be miserable when he finally woke and hoped his son had the chance to sleep for a long time. It was clear he needed it.
He was woken in the morning not by Devon but by Caleb. His younger son had come to see if he could help, and after situating Lori in the living room, he'd gone in search of his father and brother. Lydia was already at the office and had seen Lori; thankfully, her blood pressure was lower, but Lydia was still concerned enough to keep Lori off her feet. She was full term in another week, and his mother just wanted the baby to stay put for a few more days at least.
"Dad."
Don opened his eyes to see Caleb peering down at him. Sitting up with caution, he discovered he was stiff and sore. Glancing over at Devon, he saw his head dropped off to the side and his breathing noisy. He motioned to Caleb to go ahead and leave the room, and then he followed slowly.
They met in the kitchen, Caleb pulling out the coffee pot and setting it up to brew. "What the hell are you two doing in there?"
"It was a terrible night."
"I can tell."
Caleb left the room once the coffee was brewing and brought Lori into the kitchen. He carried her through and set her in a chair, her cheeks flushed and her lips in a tight line.
"I told you I can walk just fine, Caleb."
But when he kissed her, she couldn't even pretend to be annoyed with him. It was the hottest thing he'd ever done for her, and there'd been plenty of passionate moments in their marriage. The idea that he wanted her and their baby safe was a turn on, coupled with the strength of his arms as he surrounded her with them to pick her up.
"I don't care if you're capable. Doc said to keep you off your feet, and that's what I'm doing."
She cradled his cheek in her palm, tears pricking her eyes as she caressed the scruff that grew there. "Thank you," she breathed, and he rewarded her with his handsome grin.
Caleb turned to Don as the older man poured a cup of coffee. "Now, what happened?"
"He hasn't been able to sleep." Don pulled out a box of donuts someone had donated the day before and set them on the table before taking a seat. "Your mother prescribed him a sleeping aid. I thought he would sleep last night. I was wrong." Images of Devon screaming and pulling his hair out flashed through his brain and he heaved a sigh.
"Why were you in your office?" Caleb put a donut on a napkin and passed it to Lori. "You both look like hell, and you couldn't possibly have been comfortable."
"He woke me up at about three. I heard this chair fall, and by the time I made it here, he was screaming like the hounds of hell were chasing him. He'd had several beers—the bottles were on the table—and had found my tequila in the cabinet in my office." His hands shook as he scrubbed them over his face. He swallowed more coffee and tried to decide if his stomach could tolerate a donut. "He kept saying Hailey was crying and wouldn't stop. Mom came in the room and we all just kind of sat together until Devon passed out. I didn't want to leave him alone."
"Fuck," Caleb murmured. Lori covered his hand with hers, and he flipped his over so he could grip hers tightly on his leg. "Seriously, Dad, what the hell are we going to do? He can't survive this."
