Things have finally calmed down a bit, but Walt's still not back, and August's lying across the sofa with her head in Mum's lap – and Erys in hers – when I bring Mum a bowl of Monster Munch. Mum's done crying, but her voice is a little hoarse when she laughs.

"Oh, Angie! You're fuelling my addiction."

I kiss her forehead before I sit. If anybody deserves to be spoiled it's my mum, but I wish it hadn't come at this cost.

After a sniffle and crunch of a crisp, she starts to tell us how it started with her bringing up Walt's brother again. August and I stay quiet, letting her recount everything. For once Erys is quiet too, happy to sit and have her ears stroked, like a therapy dog, but much, much smaller.

"He said..." she starts, and when she shakes her head like she still can't believe it, I rub her knee encouragingly. Take your time, Mum. She takes a deep breath, in and out, and starts again.

"We were talking in the conservatory, and I brought it up again, asking him, you know, are you absolutely certain? He sort of, just, held my hand, started rubbing it," she mimics the action on Auggie's freckled hand, "so I thought 'okay'."

She runs a heavy hand through her mussed cropped hair before she continues, and when she pulls it back her ginger roots show.

"So, I give it a minute, and I ask, you know, if everything's alright, if there's something about his brother he's not telling me. And he's quiet. Then he says that his brother's not a good guy. He's just not a good guy, Flo," she says, drawling every vowel when she imitates his all-over-the-place accent.

"So I ask if he's dangerous. And he doesn't say no and that really, really freaked me out for a second. Then he starts saying how they 'weren't good kids' and his brother 'still acts like he's still a kid', and then he goes quiet again, and I just want to scream 'fucking spit it out!', you know!" She winces as soon as she curses, and when August giggles so do I.

"Sorry, sorry. Bad mummy." She says to Erys, as if Erys understands any words at all, letalone the bad ones.

"So he goes, he's, uh... he's actually staying about 40 minutes from here," she says mimicking his accent again, and it's sounding more and more like Rachel from Friends' Ross impression, with the same throat-clearing and aloofness.

"And, you know, of course I said, 40 bloody minutes, you have to invite him! And I start going on about how the girls and I would make him feel welcome, and he could stay in the guest room if he needed to and he just-"

I rub her knee again when her bottom lip quivers ever so slightly,

"It's okay, Mum... It's okay."

"He just went off... Started saying that I don't know how to listen, I don't know when to quit. I just... I thought I was doing the right thing, trying to bring them together."

"But you were!" Auggie pipes up, and I can see in her slowly-clearing eyes that she means it – Mum's her hero. Mine, too. "Mum, it is not your fault he reacted like a Neanderthal."

Mum's lips are taut, and I can tell she's trying her best not to start crying again. Her heart is pure gold or red diamond, which ever one's rarer, and I thought Walt saw that.

We might be huddled and puffy-eyed now, but us Channing girls are strong, even though Mum's not technically a Channing anymore. We've fended for ourselves from the very moment Dad drove away, and we're damn good at it. Then Walt came in, fuck that, we let him in, let ourselves open up and mould him into our independent existence, and he cracked the mould and shattered the trust that bound us.

"I think," Auggie whispers, in a voice so timid that she doesn't even sound like herself, "it scared me 'cause we were at home, and everything was okay and then suddenly, it just wasn't. It's never been like that. Not even when Dad was here."

Now I know she's speaking from her heart. Since she turned 15, she's been calling Dad 'Derek', to his face and ours – her little act of rebellion. When she calls him Dad, it's like I can read her mind: whether it's us, Mum and 'Derek' or us, Mum and Walt, or just the three of us, plus Erys – I hope we're still a family.

"Girls, listen." Mum says, clearing her throat in her best attempt to pretend we haven't been a mess for the past hour,

"Listen to me. If you don't want Walt back, I will not let him set a foot in this house, ever."

"Mum..." I gasp. The worst part is I know that she means it. She's always put us first. It's about time we do the same.

"What do you want?"

"I want... I want my girls happy."

"He's good, Mum," Auggie admits, scratching at her nail polish, "but I didn't like that. I don't like how it made me feel."

"I like the Walt we can trust. Can we trust him, Mum?" It's not fair for me to ask, but I ask it anyway, and Mum gnaws her bottom lip until it chaps, wondering the same thing.

At that moment, when the key turns in the lock, we wait like judges until we see him appear at the living room door. He doesn't enter the room. With his hands in his pockets, his voice is low and, God, I hate to say it... sincere.

"I don't know what I'm ready to talk about. There are things that... There are parts of me that I never wanted to look at again... But if I wanna be part of this family I'm gonna have to stare 'em in the face. I'm sorry, Flo. Angie. Auggie." His voice lilts tenderly on August's name at the sight of her still curled into Mum's side.

"I am... sorrier than I can tell you. A-and I understand if you want me gone. I don't ever wanna be the man that y'all saw today. He's not me. And if you let me show you, he'll be... so gone, I swear. I- I love you. Sorry." He turns to head up the stairs, and every cynical fibre in me is yelling, don't forgive him! We don't need him! Everything we need is right here!

He turns back momentarily and abruptly, like he'd forgotten it himself.

"Oh, and I, uh... I'm gonna invite my brother on Monday, if that's alright..."

With Erys on her lap, us by her side and her gaze squarely on the man on the steps, Mum looks like a queen on her throne. Like the gracious queen, she nods, and I see hope in her red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks. Vulnerability and grace. Is that what love is?

♡♡♡♡♡

since My Favourite Part just hit 500 reads, I thought I'd leave a little message for the lovely lot reading! Thank you all so much; I'm so unsure about this story but I'm enjoying writing it so I'll press on! See you next chapitre - I promise it gets less serious lol