“Reese, honey, it’s your mom again,” Doreen said, speaking to the answering machine. “This is the third time I’ve called, and I’m beginning to get worried. Call me back, okay?”

Beep!

Doreen sighed and set the cordless phone back in the charger. What was she going to do if Reese couldn’t help her with this plan? They had to have someplace for Desiree to go, someplace where she could start her life over, but where she still had someone to watch out for her.

Not that disasters couldn’t happen in the best of settings, Doreen reminded herself.

“How’s it going?” Phillip asked, strolling through the kitchen on his way to a mid-evening snack. He hauled open the refrigerator door and looked around at the contents.

“Oh, fine,” she said, slightly agitated. “Only Reese still hasn’t called me back. I’m starting to worry about that boy.”

“Oh, you know how Reese is,” Phillip said, making excuses for his son’s behavior as he always did. “He’s just out having fun probably. You know how he is about the snowboarding.”

Doreen rolled her eyes. “Of course; it’s the number one reason he moved to Colorado. The kid’s got an insane passion for winter sports.”

“That he does,” Phillip agreed, selecting the leftover sugar-free blueberry pie Doreen had made. A second glance yielded the location of the fat-free whipped cream, which Phillip gleefully removed as well. Juggling the dessert items, he padded over to the silverware drawer, got himself a fork, and waddled over to the table. He seated himself before his prize, loaded the remaining half a pie with whipped cream, and proceeded to eat directly from the dish.

“Oh, Phillip,” Doreen said. “Would it kill you to use a plate?”

“Would it kill you to make some coffee?”

“I don’t see what that’s got to do with anything,” Doreen said, amused with her husband’s logic.

“Well, it doesn’t,” he said, serving himself an extra-large bite.

“And that pie pan is already contaminated with your germs now,” Doreen pointed out.

“So that’s a no on the coffee then?”

“It’s too late at night for coffee,” she scolded him as she took out the filters and placed one in the machine.

“Decaf’s fine.”

“Oh, Phillip, you idiot,” Doreen said lovingly. “We haven’t had anything but decaf in this house for at least four years.”

“Hm,” Phillip grunted, his mouth full of pie. “Must be why we’re so mellow and relaxed.”

Doreen burst out laughing. Mellow and relaxed were the last two things she felt at the moment. At the moment she felt tense and anxious over her children, especially her daughter.

Phillip smiled at her as Doreen finished setting up the coffee maker, then pushed the on button. The percolation imminent, Doreen took a mug out of the cabinet and a spoon from the drawer.

“You know, Phillip,” she said.

“Hm?” he answered, still intent on his pie.

“Life is a funny thing,” Doreen said. “One day you think you have it all, that everything is going to be easy and simple for the rest of your life, and in the blink of an eye, boom, all that sense of security is just... washed away.”

Phillip put down his fork and sighed. “We will find a way to make this right, for everyone.”

She cast him a hopeful look. “You think so?”

“I have to believe it, honey,” he said. “What else are we living for?”

Doreen smiled. “All right.”

“Now then, how about that coffee?”

She poured him a hot cup and brought it to the table. It was a simple thing, easy to do, and somehow it brought her all the comfort in the world.