Friends

Eli glances over to Ryan, wondering at her tone. Did she know? It wouldn't take a genius - he'd been hanging around for much longer than thought to begin with, without ever mentioning returning to Florida. He just hadn't wanted to admit what was really going on, but he hadn't wanted to leave either.

"Sure... You're a plus of course. But looks like mechanics aren't too hard to come by around here - as far as I could see, your auto shops are all filled up." He shrugs. "As far as food goes, I've been eating off of you for too long already."

Pausing for several moments he finally leans forward with a little groan, tossing the pack of cards aside. "Ryan..." He rests his elbows on his knees, putting his chin in his hands. It was rare that he would refuse to look her in the eye, but he did now. "There's stuff... I mean... " Sighing, he suddenly stands up, pacing a little and looking up to the ceiling. "I haven't been too smart, Ry. I come with... a long list of regrets that I'd rather not have to admit to my sister."

Eventually he stops pacing and looks down at Ryan. "I, um... I've got people that would just prefer I got back to Florida. But not because they miss me. They just want my wallet. Unfortunately, you can't squeeze blood from a turnip and right now, I feel like a turnip."

He didn't know if his implication that he owed money was enough for her to understand or not. "And..." He stops. "I didn't want to tell you this... I guess 'cause I'm mad at myself." He shrugs. "I want to stay here... I really do. Main reason is you. Another reason is that I've been rooming with another guy 'cause I couldn't afford my own place. And... another reason is that... I don't have a job anymore. When I said I was mooching off of you, I wasn't lying... I really have been."

Hooking his hands in his jeans pockets, he just looks at his sister, obviously embarrassed, but at the same time, relieved that she knew. There were a lot of details though.... and he owed her an explanation. But he'd let her digest what he'd just said first.


Sparky cocks his head and stops alongside Faith, sensing something wrong. Listening quietly, he doesn't interject, though his facial expression softens, his eyes showing he was troubled by the news of this new friend.

As she looks up at him, he lets his eyes linger on hers, not afraid to see her emotions shimmering through them. "Anybody in your shoes would be scared," he responds quietly. "There's nothing wrong with that."

Thinking a moment, he gives a little nod. "Annie was right - this is a good place to take care of yourself. We got our problems, but you won't find a better bunch of people, and Angel's a right fine doctor to look out for things after the surgery... 'cause I'm sure you'll make it through just fine."

Sparky offers a gentle smile. "You're a good example for anyone... living the day as if it's your last." Pausing, his eyes roam to the darkening ranch, then back to her eyes. "How can I help make that happen?"


"Bret, what on earth are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?"

Bret looks up at his big friend lamely. It was very late, that's all he knew. In reality, it was near one o'clock in the morning. It had been dark for quiet a while, and he was pretty sure that he'd woken up Con by his disheveled hair and tired eyes. "Can I come in?"

Con furrows his brow warily. "You been drinking?"

"Yeah..." Bret couldn't lie to Con. "Just a little."

Con sighs and opens the door. "Come in."

Bret looks down as he enters, and just stands like a whipped puppy until Con moves him to the living room chair to sit. Con looks at him with question. "Well?"

Bret swallows hard. "Charlotte and I... well no... we didn't really have a fight. I just..."

"Lost your temper again," Con states flatly. "What happened?"

"I don't know." Bret's eyes stay on the floor. "She just... she got another job without telling me and... and I just... I don't understand."

"Mmm." Con leans back in his chair. He'd probably be quite upset if Jamie did that, but that wasn't what Bret needed to hear right now. "So you walked out?"

"I didn't want to fight," Bret defends. "I... I... okay, maybe I yelled at her before I left. But I wanted to calm down so... so I got a drink then... came here."

"Or two, or three," Con corrects knowingly while frowning. "So Charlotte tells you she got a second job and you flip."

"At a nightclub!" Bret elaborates with exasperation. "Singing! I didn't even know she could sing. And she's pregnant! She shouldn't be working so much, let alone hiding it from me."

"Well, she's got a little time before she needs to settle down," Con reasons. He wanted to reprimand Bret for his reaction, but it was hard, imagining himself in that same position. He wouldn't be upset with Jamie - he would be furious. "Know why she did it?"

"Kinda." Bret moans and puts his face in his hands. "I guess I'm not good enough. I can't provide enough and I'm not even worthy to be let in on everything."

"Now hang on, don't blow it out of proportion."

"I'm not, Con! This is exactly what happened with Maria. We started with little fights, she started taking on things that she didn't let me in on, she decided I wasn't giving her enough, then one day, she realized she didn't need me anymore. Charlotte and I are heading down the same path. I can feel it and her keeping a job a secret from me just confirms it."

Con studies Bret's face for several moments. "You're scared of losing her, aren't you?"

"Terrified." Loosened up by alcohol, Bret's eyes fill. "I'm not doing a good enough job. I... I can't make enough money - I've been out of work forever 'cause of that stupid accident. I'm gonna have to support a family now, and my wife is out working two jobs. What does that say about me?"

"It says your wife loves you very much." Con shakes his head. "But it also says you two need to work on your communication. You're right - she shouldn't have kept that from you. She's probably got a whole list of reasons why, but she should have communicated with you. And you - you shouldn't be telling me this - you should be telling her this."

"But she'll just point out that we need the money!"

"Then either figure out a new job for you or swallow your pride until something better comes along."

Bret's shoulders drop and there is a long pause. "Can I just stay here the night?"

"No." Con rises and points to the door. "You need to go home to your wife."

"But-"

"No." Con waits for Bret to stand as well. "I'm not going to assist in hindering your marriage. Don't lay down and give up, Bret. You did that once. Fight to keep what you got this time. You know Charlotte's worth it."

"But I-"

"Walk a straight line." Con points to the floor.

Bret rolls his eyes and walks a straight line, going through a short routine to prove he was sober enough to drive, though he was inebriated.

"Now go home," Con directs. "And don't stop at the bar on your way."

Bret heaves a weary sigh and nods lamely. "Yeah... yeah, okay." Getting turned out, he limps down the walk to his car, feeling even lower than when he'd arrived.

Con makes sure his friend is on his way before shutting the door and letting out his own sigh. Shaking his head, he turns off the lights and heads back upstairs. Easing into bed, he gives a little groan, knowing he needed to cram in some more sleep before work in the morning. "Friends," he mumbles. "Gotta love 'em."


Bret parks in the drive and sits thinking for several long minutes. He was a bit more alert now, but just as depressed. Maybe he was more mad at himself now than anything. He was still upset with Charlotte, but he felt worse for yelling at her like he had.

Eventually, he gets himself to the front door and inside, finding only a small light on. Glancing into the kitchen, he sees that she had indeed fixed supper, and now it sat lonely and cold. Turning to the living room, he limps a few feet, seeing Charlotte lying on the couch. Just looking at her for a moment, he finally sheds his jacket and sets his keys aside.

Sitting on the edge of the couch, looking to his wife's face seems to shatter the anger he had left. He reaches down and runs a hand through her hair, then gently shakes her shoulder.

"Hey," he prompts quietly. He knew as soon as she woke, she'd be able to tell he'd been to the bar, but at this point, he knew there was a lot that needed to be said anyway. "You should be in bed."