She pours some coffee, and looks at me quizzically. She never drinks coffee. More of tea person. I know this situation with Emily has her upset.

"No, she didn't come home last night. Liz called last night. She spent the night there," I answer, flipping a pancake.

Maria sighs. "Michael, why didn't we ever tell her about Alexander?" she asks.

I shrug. "If you remember correctly, I couldn't find a way to tell you until Emily was almost three, and you had the flashback of her birth, and remembered him."

"I was mad at you for so long about that," she says softly. I remember that all too well. We had just gotten married six months before, and the news about Alexander and how I had kept it from her nearly tore our marriage apart.

"Believe me, I remember that," I reply. I turn the burner off, and put the last pancake on a plate. I feel her arms encircle me from the back.

"Michael, we can't lose her," she says into my back. I turn around, and wrap my arms around her.

"We won't. No matter how angry Em gets at us, we're still her parents and she still loves us," I reassure her.

"The things she screamed at us," Maria shudders, remembering the fight the three of us had on Thursday before Emily ran out of the house.

"You know she didn't mean of them. She's our kid after all. We're both famous for saying things we don't mean when we're angry," I remind her.

"True, but the way she said them hurt so much. My mother always told me that the words 'I hate you' sting much more when you're the parent. Boy, was she right," Maria muses.

"Just don't tell her that. She'll be the first to say 'I told you so'" I say. She laughs softly.

The moment is broken when the twins run into the kitchen screaming about how hungry they are. Tegan follows sleepily, and Evan's right behind her. There are bags under his eyes, and I recognize the look in his eyes. A deer caught in headlights.

It's the same kind of look I had in the months following Maria's pregnancy announcement.

I'm not jumping to conclusions because I know Evan is smarter than I was at his age. It might have nothing to do with what I hope it doesn't.

God, I hope not.

* * *

"Liz, is Em here?" I ask, once I've arrived at the Crashdown. Her parents passed away a few years ago, but she still lives above the restaurant.

"Yeah, Michael. I'm so sorry about Alexander, I just thought she knew. I'm so sorry," Liz tries to apologize, but I wave my hand to stop her.

"Don't worry Liz. Maria and I know we should have told her long ago," I tell her. Liz nods, and says Em is upstairs. I go up the stairs, and corner my daughter in what used to be Liz's room.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" she asks. She stands and makes a move to leave. I block her.

"Emily, you're coming home, and we're discussing this with your mother," I inform her.

"Oh, we are, are we?" she asks. I recognize her expression. It used to be mine.

"Emily Isabel Guerin, I am not joking with you. And when we get there, you're apologizing to your mother for what you said on Thursday," I add.

"I'm not going anywhere, except back to Boston," Emily replies.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. First plane out tomorrow morning," she answers.

"You're not going anywhere until you hear us out."

"Excuse me, but Miss Parker said I could find Em up here," a strange voice calls from the living room. Emily's eyes widened, and she pulls her arms from my grasp. She rushes across the room, and struggles to open the window.

"Emily?" the voice asks. I turn and confront a tall young man with brown hair and sky blue eyes covered in wire-rimmed glasses.

"Oh, shit," Emily swears. She pulls the one leg she had outside of the window back in. She walks over to the two of us.

"Daddy, this Chris. Chris, this is my dad," she introduces us. I told out my hand for him to shake.

"Michael Guerin. Em's never said anything about you," I tell him.

"Chris Valenti. She always talks about you," he replies. Valenti? Oh, shit.

"Em, who is he?" I ask, curiously. Suddenly, my eyes notice something I didn't before.

An engagement ring.