Tate
The living room was mostly quiet. Tate, sitting on the couch, was catching up on all the shows that he had missed while imprisoned for a year. Kelly lay on the couch next to him, her head in his lap, snoring softly. Ramona, sitting in one of the rocking chairs, was working on a quilt for Griffin’s bed while rocking a sleeping Griffin in his rocker. As the episode Tate was watching ended, he glanced around the room, a soft smile on his face. Since he had come home a couple of weeks ago, life had been pretty close to perfect. He was still healing up satisfactorily and was almost back at full strength. His wheelchair that he had come home in was currently sitting forgotten in the corner of the room, collecting dust. He looked down at Kelly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. She
