He stared into the clear, nearly blue-white waters of the pool. “If I don’t do it now, I may never be able to face it again.”

Morgan hugged his son. “I didn’t realize it was bothering you this much,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Cole shrugged. “Nothing anyone can do…except me.”

“Does Debbie know?”

Cole turned away. He didn’t answer.

“Cole…dammit! Does she?”

“No!”

It was harsh, but it was clear. Cole started into the house.

“Are you going to tell her, or are you leaving that up to me, too?” Morgan was angry. He couldn’t face being the one to deliver her hurt.

“I can’t,” Cole shouted. “God dammit, I can’t.” The pain was thick in his voice. Tears welled, but refused to flow.

Morgan was sick. He relented instantly, but it was too late. His son was already walking out the door.

Debbie stood in the shadows of the hallway as tears ran blindly down her face. She almost called Cole’s name aloud, but she was afraid if she opened her mouth, nothing would come out but a scream. She’d heard everything.

Buddy leaned against the door to his room and stared at the computers winking at him from across the room. He needed to fix this. But he didn’t know how to fix broken people, only machines. This was out of his realm of expertise. And then he heard Debbie sobbing. A small streak of Brownfield spirit made him grip the doorknob and open the door with a hard, vicious yank.

Debbie stared, surprised by the unlikely vehemence with which Buddy was moving. He grabbed her by the arm, and began pulling her toward the front door.

“What are you doing?” she said.

He stopped, a stunned expression spreading on his face. He looked down at the firm grip he had on her arm and quickly released it with an awkward apology. “Ummm…I just thought…if you weren’t too…” He took a deep breath, yanked his shirttail from his pants and swiped it across her face, drying tears and streaking makeup in one fell swoop. “We’re going to get some ice cream,” he said.

Debbie’s heart skipped a beat. Oh Buddy! You dear! Why didn’t I fall for someone like you? Someone with no complications? And then her heart answered her own question. Because I didn’t fall in love with my head, I fell in love with my heart. And my heart belongs to Cole. She shuddered. I just don’t think he wants it anymore.

“Thank you, Buddy,” she said. “I think I’d like that. Maybe your dad would like to come?”

He smiled, happy that his suggestion was being met with so much appreciation. “I’ll get him,” he said, and lurched toward the backyard.