"I'm sorry, Stephen." Grace held onto him a little tighter.

"One day, my mom came home early from her s.h.i.+ft at the hospital since they were overstaffed. Found him on the couch with his administrator. Needless to say, that fight pretty much ended any chance of them staying together. He left shortly after, and my mom had that couch out with the garbage by nightfall. I can't say I blame her for not wanting to keep it."

"Me neither."

"Since then, I've seen my dad only twice. I couldn't even tell you where he lives to be honest. I get a card for my birthday every year with twenty dollars in it, but it's usually about a month late. The last time I saw him, I was seventeen," said Stephen, looking off into the distance.

"That must be terrible. I'm so sorry, babe," she answered, reaching up to gently caress his cheek.

"It's okay, I guess," said Stephen, feeling the raw wound inside him that his father's desertion caused. "I've learned to deal it."

"You shouldn't have to deal with it, though. That's so terrible."

"I guess the twins have it worse than I do. I can still remember him around when I was younger. The twins were barely even two before he left."

"I can see why your mom always has her hands full now. Taking care of three young children and working full time must be seriously stretching."

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Stephen nodded, "That's why once I was old enough to help out, I did. I got my first job when I was fourteen helping out at my local veterinary shelter. It was mostly just cleaning p.o.o.p out of cages but it was something. I started working at Price Chopper when I was sixteen. Just to help mom make ends meet."