For as long as she can possibly remember, Michael Brentwood (Scott Foley) has always been Amy's lifeline, the only person she can count on to heal her pain, not only emotionally but more importantly, physically. He's unbelievably kind, compassionate...
It wasn't often that Amy returned to her parents house, except on holidays like Thanksgiving, Christmas and occasionally, the Fourth of July or her mother's birthday, which was why she was heading there today. When she had a lot going on, she tended to forget it. Fortunately, she hadn't been doing much of anything these past few days. When Andrew returned to work, so did she.
After what happened at the beach, things were a little awkward between she and Tina the next day but as the day progressed, they started talking again and the distance between them seemed to disappear without a trace. When she gave it a little more thought, Amy realized that maybe Andrew had a point. Tina really might be good for Jason. She could look out for him just as she'd looked out for her, but she wasn't counting Monday.
In-between work, Amy used the time to buy her mom a gift. Nothing too extravagant, just a little something to show she still cared and hadn't forgotten her, a nice card and a pair of comfortable shoes. Despite their occasionally rocky relationship, paying her a visit was the least she could do for the woman. Other than her relatives and grandparents, her mother had no else coming to visit her. Since her parents divorce six years ago, the woman hadn't gotten re-married, but it didn't stop her from getting out of the house and dating every once and a while.
As she turned her blue WV bug onto that familiar old street, she didn't even notice the black Porsche 911 parked at the end of the block.
Leslie Gellar lived in a two story, cream colored, Spanish style home with a shingled roof on an open lot, a suburb just outside of West Hollywood and about fifteen miles east of her apartment. Turning into the driveway a couple minutes later, she pulled up next to her mother's blue Chevy Malibu, put the car in park and shut off the engine. Taking the keys out of the ignition, she turned toward the passenger's seat, dropping them into her purse before slipping it over her shoulder. Grabbing the gift wrapped lavender box with the attached card, she turned and got out of her car, heading up the walkway to the front door.
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She rang the bell and waited patiently for an answer, holding the gift in front of her with both hands. Less than a minute later, the door came open and she smiled at the youthful sun-kissed face of her mother, who, many people said, she still resembled. Even for being forty, her mother was still a trim and attractive woman. Fortunately, Amy had been passed down those looks. Among them, she had her mother's big bright eyes, smile and her lush and long dark hair. "Hi mom," she greeted her. "Happy Birthday."
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