“Hey you!” 

            “You look so good Clay.”  I mean it.  Family life suits him well.  He looks happy and I am happy for him.  I hope that I can find that again. 

            “Thanks.  Dad wanted to get a few things set up before you came home, so I offered to come pick you up.”

            He rescues my luggage from the grips of a careless foreigner who mistakes it for his own and we make our way to his car.  Conversation flows easily between us through the entire ride.  I am actually glad he is here; he manages to tame my nerves, if only temporarily.  I think seeing dad right off the bat would have been too emotional.  I find out that Clay has brought the whole family out to visit dad.  I stare out the window thinking how this is just the tip of the emotional spectrum I am going to run through over the next few days. 

            When we walk through the door, I am greeted by a chorus of “Welcome back, Spencer’s.”  Dad, Chelsea and the kids are sitting in the living room holding a banner they have made.  I put my hand over my mouth to cover my shock.  It is quite a picture, seeing them all together after so long.  Devon, Jesse and Taryn, have gotten so big; I can hardly believe it is them.  I hug each one of them like the fate of the world depends on it.  I do the same for Chelsea and my dad.  She comments on the serendipitous timing of my trip.  I laugh and say that it must be fate. 

Clay puts the kids to bed in Glen’s old room and the adults stay up catching up over milk and cookies.  We talk long into the night about everything.  No one asks me to go into detail about my real reason for being there, but I think they might have guessed.

            My dad tells a story about a run in Glen had had with the very attractive transgender population in LA and we are all doubled over in fits of laughter.  “So what really brings you out here Spence?”  Clay finally asks, after we are able to catch our breaths. 

            “Unfinished business.”  He catches the far away look in my eyes as I search for an appropriate answer. I think he knows I have come for Ashley.  He quickly switches back to a lighter subject without any further interrogation and we are soon back to uproarious laughter.  It feels so good to laugh. 

            Fatigue and jet lag get the better of me and I tell everyone I am going to turn in.  They agree that it is late and also call it a night.  I climb the stairs and slowly turned the doorknob that leads into my old room.  It is exactly as I have remembered it.  I lay down on the bed, taking in the scent and I can not help but smile.  I can not believe I am here.  If you were to tell me me four days ago that by the end of the week I would be lying in my old bed, at my father’s house in LA, formulating a plan to get Ashley back, after quitting my job, I would have laughed and would have had you committed.  But here I am, unemployed, freeloading and ready to fight.  Tomorrow is going to be a long day.  Sleep comes easily.