God, So Close—.

“ssssssss! For Christ’s sake, Roger, wake up. Jesus, I don’t think you’d wake for the end times.”

“Wha . . . end who . . . why—.”

“Shhh! For gods sake, quiet. I think someone’s in the house.”

“What—.”

“Shhh!”

“What’s going on, Cyn? What time is it? Turn a light on.”

“Shhh! No! There’s someone in the house, Roger, what’re you going to do about it?

“Call the cops?”

“What’ll they do? If they get here. Do you really think they’d get here in time?”

“No. And because you won’t let me keep a gun in the house we’re cowering in our own bedroom.”

“I don’t think cowering is the right word. Maybe—.”

“I don’t care. It feels like cowering to me. I have a hammer in the bathroom. I’ll get it. At least it’s something. I’ll keep my eyes shut when I flip on the hall lights. It’ll blind them.”

“That’s your plan? God, what if they shoot you?”

“Here I go . . . Yahhh! HOLY SHIT! NOOOOOO! STOOOOOOPPP!

“Roger? Are you okay? For Christ’s sake, Stan! What’re you doing sneaking in at this hour. You’re supposed to be at David’s. You scared the crap out of us.”

“Yes, mom, sorry. Sorry dad.”

“It’s okay, son, love you, go to bed. I’m going to go to bed, Cyn.”

“Here I am sweetheart . . . Roger? . . . What’s wrong honey? Why are you crying? It’s okay sweetheart, come here, yeah, you like your head there. Now tell me, what’s got you so Upset?”

“Jesus, Cynthia, I almost bashed my sons head in. I feel like total crap! I was so frightened, Cyn, I was shaking when I got into bed. My god, what if I’d hit him?”

“But you didn’t. Now, come here, let me hold you.”

“Thank you, Cyn. I love you . . . God, so close—.”

“Shhhh, come here.”