Kimberly checked herself in the mirror. She was satisfied that she looked as unattractive as possible without looking like she was trying to look that way. She had on no makeup, except for a touch of base around her temples. She'd moisturized her chestnut-colored hair so her natural curls had none of the bounce or volume that she knew boys liked. She wore a frilly, long-sleeve blouse that covered her arms and chest, and obscured her protruding bust. Underneath that she wore a sports bra to tame the rebellious movements of her heavy breasts. She wore a pair of loose jeans that made her butt look flat and unremarkable. Some sneakers completed the ensemble.

"Kim, you ready? We need to get going. It's after 8," her dad called from downstairs.

"Coming." She grabbed her purse and left her room.

Roy followed in his car. The drive to the Speeds' house took less than 5 minutes. They walked to the front door together.

Brooke opened the door. She was dressed for work and in a rush. Kimberly and her dad gave her a hug.

"I'm so sorry about your mother, Brooke," Roy started saying. "If there's anything—"

Brooke breezed past them. "I'm running late. He's in the living room watching TV." She ran to her father's car, started the engine, and sped off down the street.

Roy looked at Kimberly. "She seems to be taking it well," he said.

"That's just Brooke. She's not," Kimberly said. They stepped into the house and closed the door behind them.

Kimberly tiptoed into the living room. The TV was tuned to one of the network morning shows. Roy looked around the room. "Where is he?"

"Over here." Andy crawled out from between the couch cushions. "Had to get the remote."

Kimberly colored. Andy was more adorable than ever. His clothes would fit her old Ken dolls. And he was growing a little beard!

Roy got down on his knees next to the couch. "Hello, Andrew."

"Roy," Andy said curtly. "I wasn't expecting you, too."

"Well, I came to pay my respects. I'm terribly sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

"When's the memorial service?"

"Tomorrow at 11. St. Luke's."

"I'll try to make it, but you know… summer classes. Trina and Kim, at least, should be there. As I was telling Brooke, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask. God didn't make us to deal with these things on our own. The Lord is our shepherd. If you want someone to talk to, or pray with you, let us know, okay?"

"I will."

"When you're ready, Trina and I would love to have you over for dinner. It's been too long since we got together. From what Kim has told me, you've shined a light in her life during a dark time, and I want to thank you properly."

Andy's demeanor softened. "Thanks, Roy. I'll have to take you up on that when I'm not so…" He didn't need to finish.

Roy stood up. "I leave you in good hands." He kissed Kimberly on the forehead. "Bye. Good luck."

She followed her dad to the threshold and locked the door behind him. She returned and sat on the couch a fair distance from Andy, chastely folding her hands on top of her knees.

He spoke up first. "Can I say something up front?" He had to raise his voice to be heard over the TV.

She nodded.

He kicked down on the remote, switching the TV off. "I didn't want you to come over. This was all Brooke's idea."

She smirked wanly. "It's good to see you, too, Mr. Speed."

Andy sighed. "Of course I'm glad to see you, Kim. I was referring to your letter. You said you needed to spend time away from me to get your stuff sorted out. I respected that. I'm telling you Brooke orchestrated this, not me. Which brings me to ask: Why are you here?"

He sounded angry, as if by walking through the door she'd tried to rape him all over again. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. You're here for his sake, not to validate your feelings, she told herself.

"Brooke thought you'd be happier having me here rather than a stranger." She arched her eyebrows. "Was she wrong?"

Andy sat on the couch and stared forward, conflicted. "It doesn't hurt."

Kimberly snuck a long glance at him. He was really small, no taller than a foot. Despite that, she could see dark circles under his eyes, and recent loss of fat and muscle in his hips and shoulders in the way his tiny clothes hung off his frame. Brooke was right. If he carried on like this much longer, he wasn't going to live long enough to experience being a normal-sized person again.

"I appreciate your offer to help, Kim. I do," Andy said. "And all things being equal, I'm glad you're here instead of the woman the insurance company sent." He looked at her. Hurt lined his face. "But Alecia's gone. My wife is gone. You can't fix that, can you?"

Kimberly said nothing. They sat for awhile, trying to let the silence speak for them.

Andy studied her face. It had only been a week, but it looked like she'd aged 5 years. Her outfit was a vain effort to play down her looks. He knew she was beautiful. Now there was something intriguing about her as well. There was a reservedness, a self-awareness that wasn't there before. There was also pain below the surface that he knew he was responsible for.

She cleared her throat. Andy looked away. "I'm sorry. I was just thinking how different you look."

Her voice was very controlled, almost robotic. "Since I'm going to be here with you all day, we should establish ground rules about how we act around each other."

"Ground rules… sound like a good idea."

She recited the litany of rules from memory. It was a painful, even hurtful, talk to give. But she knew the pain that she could inflict on him or herself otherwise, and this motivated her to continue to the end.

Andy listened without saying a word, and agreed to the terms. "Now what?" he asked.

She stood up and walked around the couch, giving him a wide berth, self-conscious of how she appeared to him. "Now, I'll make you breakfast."

"I'm not really hungry, Kim—"

"I'll make eggs and bacon and toast, and you can eat however much you want."

Andy shrugged.

Kimberly's goal was to not let Andy spend the day alone. She kept him engaged all morning. Even though he only ate a few bites of egg, she was able to keep him at the table until she finished eating, and for 20 minutes after. She did most of the talking, more filling the air between them with her voice than carrying a real conversation. Then she got him to help her wash dishes. He cleaned one glass in the time it took her to clean two plates, the frying pan, and the silverware. Then they played cards.

Before they knew it, it was noon.

"Would you like to go for a walk, Mr. Speed?"

"Now?" He looked out the window. "It's kinda hot, isn't it?"

"Swimming, then."

Andy recalled the last time they went swimming. "You want to go swimming?"

She recalled it, too. She blushed. "The rules, Mr. Speed. I will not be going swimming. I was suggesting it as an activity for you."

"Right," he said, crestfallen. He was a fool for hoping. "I don't think so. I think I'll head upstairs—"

"No, I know what we'll do." Kimberly scrambled for something, anything. "We'll, uh, go to the store. Yeah. I thought the pantry looked empty. That's it, we'll go shopping. Let's make a list."

They made a shopping list, and she drove them to the grocery store. Andy was now so short that she couldn't see him in the rearview mirror. He needed an adapter to fit in the overlarge car seat.

On the way to the store, Kimberly questioned what she was doing. What if she was making Andy feel worse? What if she reminded him of how he was almost unfaithful to his wife? What if she was teasing him and didn't know it? What if her rules were too strict?

She realized her eyes were watering as she parked the car, so she wore sunglasses inside the store. She pushed Andy around in the shopping cart. They went down every aisle, crossing items off their list as they went. Then they went through checkout. No one noticed Andy, and if they did, they pretended he was invisible.

When they got home, Kimberly had Andy direct her where to put the groceries. Then she made lunch, sandwiches. Again, Andy said he was full after only a couple of bites.

They washed the dishes and Kimberly checked the clock. 2:30. Only 3 hours to kill before Brooke got home.

"You look tired," Andy said.

I feel tired, she thought. She wondered absently if this is what being a stay-at-home mom was like.

"Let's relax and listen to the radio," she suggested. The radio was in the living room with the TV. She tuned it to a classical station.

"Beethoven's seventh," she said, swaying to the sound of the strings. She stopped when she realized Andy was standing underneath her. He was very stealthy at this size.

"Beethoven's fourth," he corrected.

They sat on the couch and listened to the music. Kimberly curled her legs up underneath her and lay her head on the headrest. She was asleep within minutes.

She awoke some time later and sat up. Andy was gone.

"Mr. Speed?" she said quietly. If he was asleep, she didn't want to wake him. Her eyes scanned the couch. She checked under her hips and thighs, just in case. She made sure the floor was clear before planting her feet and standing up.

She walked into the kitchen. "Mr. Speed?" she whispered. Nothing.

She crept up the stairs. The door to the office was open a crack. She put her eye to the door but couldn't see much of anything. She couldn't hear anything, either.

She placed her palm on the door to push it open, stopped. Maybe she should leave him alone. He'd come up here for privacy. But, what was she here for, if not to help him bear his burden?

Let him choose whether to have me for company, she thought. She backed away from the door to the top of the stairs. "Mr. Speed?" she called out.

A minute elapsed before the door inched open and Andy walked out into the hallway. "Yeah."

"It's clouded over. We can take that walk now,  if you want."

Andy considered her. "No thanks, Kim. I'm good."

She stepped into the vertical shaft of light coming out of the office. "You're sure? I think you could use some company."

His voice was heavy with sadness. "I'm sure."

She stood there, wondering what she could do or say to convince him to go with her. The invitation to use her shoulder to cry on was there, if only he would accept it! If there was a way to shake him out of his malaise, just for a minute, it would be worth it, if it led to some catharsis. She decided she could bend the rules just this one time to persuade him.

She took another step forward and kneeled close to him. The soft curves of her hips and chest stood out through her tautening blouse. She reached around him to rub his back with her fingers.

"Are you really sure?" she said.

The suggestion was as subtle as she could make it, but as subtle as a freight train to Andy. That was the disadvantage of having only guns in a knife fight.

Andy scowled and shrugged her fingers off his shoulders. "I'd like to be alone, Kim."

This was a mistake, she realized. He wasn't ready to share his grief, and she'd insulted him to boot.

"Mr. Speed, I was just trying to—You know, you shouldn't—"

"Kim, you've been a great friend today. The best that I could hope for. But I'm asking for some space right now. You understand, don't you?"

She nodded contritely. "I do, Mr. Speed. I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

Kimberly sat at the kitchen table, thinking, reviewing the situation. Andy needed her, she just didn't know how. She was at a loss for what she should do, and it was driving her crazy. But she wasn't ready to give up, not by a long shot.

Brooke walked through the door in her ice cream shop uniform. "Hey." She searched the table and the countertop with her eyes. "Where's my dad?"

"Upstairs."

Brooke slipped her purse off her shoulder and sat next to her best friend. "How'd he do?"

"Better, I think. But still distant. I was thinking, maybe I should stay here for awhile."

"That'd be great," Brooke said. "Will that be okay with your parents?"

"It should be." She stood up. "I need to go home and pack my suitcase."

Brooke caught ahold of her hand before she walked away. "Thank you for doing this, Kim."

She smiled back. "It's nothing," she replied, but really it meant everything.