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It was just past six in the evening when the phone buzzed in Kahnso's pocket. He took it out and looked at the screen, not expecting much of anything, definitely not expecting to see Ryan, Jeffery as the calling party. The name had been uttered only once or twice to him by his wife and she said that he was probably dead. Her tone said she hoped he was.

Kahnso looked out of his office. He hoped Veronica would appear now and know what to do with the call. Feeling helpless in a way he didn't care for, Kahnso touched the green accept button on the screen, held the slim phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Who is this?" Kahnso asked. He glanced at the framed photo on his desk: Veronica holding up their grinning toddler, the two of them peering cheek-to-cheek into the camera.

"I hope this is the right number." The voice was male, husky, unsteady. Kahnso knew anxiety when he heard it. "My daughter is Veronica. Veronica Ryan."

"My wife," Kahnso said, sounding more possessive than he meant to. He chided himself for saying anything at all; never volunteer information. "What about her?"

"Ah, yes, your wife," Jeffery said, somewhat wistfully. "I... haven't been in her life. Not for a long time."

A pause. Kahnso traced the gilded frame of the photo. Christ, please come home. Tell me what to do right now.

"If you could-, I was wondering if you might-." A hard swallow. "I would love to speak to her. To try and fix things before it's too late." Another brief pause. "I understand I have a granddaughter. I think that makes three, what with Aaron and his wife, yes?"

Kahnso had been with Veronica for almost ten years but he felt like an outsider. He suddenly put the photo face down and sat back in his high-backed chair. "I'll tell her that you called," he said flatly.

"Thank you. Really."

When the call was over, Kahnso was eager to forget it had come. How easy it would be to say that nothing happened, let's go get dinner and then fuck like rabbits, Jamie and Aaron can watch Alex for the night.

There was a lone bottle of whiskey in the cabinet above the fridge. It was a travel-size bottle of Maker's Mark, barely a couple of shots and to be enjoyed only under the supervision of his wife. He twisted off the sealed cap and gulped it down. He threw the bottle away, leaned on the kitchen counter, let out a sigh that felt like fire.

Veronica's Porsche pulled into the garage and out came the leggy kangaroo holding a canvas bag full of groceries. From the other side bopped out Alex, daughter of the pair, more kangaroo than fox but plainly Kahnso's daughter with her long raven hair and silvery-blue fur. She opened up the door to the house and held it. "Here, mom!"

"Thanks, sweetheart. Hey, grab the water out of the trunk, will you?" Veronica thumbed a button on her key fob and the trunk of the car popped open. "And be gentle closing it this time."

"Fi-i-ine," Alex sighed.

Veronica placed the bag on the kitchen's island counter then passed under the foyer staircase and into the personal gym. This was where she often found her husband. He sat astride an exercise bike under a small cluster of lights in the otherwise dark gym. He was resting, not pedaling.

"Hey. Slacking off?" Veronica asked, putting a firm hand on his thigh. She smiled, squeezed him slightly. At his lack of a response, she asked, "What's wrong?"

Kahnso leaned over and smooched her. He supposed from the slight narrow of her eyes that she smelled the whiskey but he didn't care. It was too small a gulp to give him anything but a momentary buzz anyway. "I got a call earlier. I guess it's about you."

"You guess?" She tilted her head somewhat, leaned in closer to him. Their faces were close. "Honey, you look like shit. What's going on?"

Alex's voice rang out in the gym. "I brought the wa-a-ater in! Mom? Dad!"

"Hey. Hey, sugar," Kahnso said. "Me and mommy are talking. Go on."

"Fine," Alex huffed, pointedly shutting the door as she left.

"Such a brat," Kahnso chuckled, sounding tired.

"Attention whore," Veronica added. "Like her father." Another smooch. "Now talk. Don't make me beat it out of you."

Kahnso straightened up into some semblance of dignity. His paws clutched the handlebars of the bike. "Veronica. Your dad called me earlier, while you were out with Alex." He watched her face closely but saw no appreciable change. "He didn't say his name but it came up Jeffery Ryan." He kneaded the handlebars, glanced away. "He knew about Alex, about Aaron and Jamie and their kids. He knew about us, too. I don't know if the guy is legit or not. I have his number, he wanted to talk to you."

"I bet he did," Veronica said tonelessly. She started to walk off.

Kahnso dismounted and followed her closely. "Veronica, honey, hey. Hey. Talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about," she said without breaking stride. When she did finally stop, it was to open the door. Kahnso nearly bumped into her. "I don't want anything to do with him."

She started to close the door in his face and that was enough for Kahnso. He caught it by the side and pulled it so firmly that the knob was torn from her hand and she staggered back into his arm. "Listen, if you don't want to deal with him, fine, but don't shoot the fucking messenger."

"I didn't shoot anybody," Veronica snapped, flustered and blushing. She shrugged him off and hissed, "You know what I mean." A quick glance around to all of Alex's usual hiding spots and then she turned her eyes back on Kahnso, her blue gaze frigid and piercing like an icicle. "I spent too much of my life being manipulated by him. Do you understand how bad it is to live with someone who might try and sell you for crack? Ever think about what it's like to live on the other side of that?"

Kahnso recoiled. Anybody else could have said the same thing and his reaction would be violence at worst, indifference at best. From Veronica it stung like a slap. His look said everything. A moment later the kangaroo tried to hug him but he gently pushed her back.

"That was uncalled for. I probably deserve to hear that from someone, but I didn't think it would be my wife."

"I'm so-o-orry," Veronica whined, sounding enough like a teenager that Kahnso became uncomfortable. She pressed her back into the wall of the hallway and cupped her face in her hands. Very softly, she began to sob. "I don't want to go through that again. I can't deal with him again. I spent my whole life trying to get away from him. He's gonna hurt me."

Kahnso leaned into Veronica. He closed her in against the wall, peeled her off of it with his thick fingers, pulled her into his chest. Nuzzling between her ears, he said, "He can't hurt you anymore. I promise."

"He can," Veronica said, feebly. Her tears were hot against Kahnso's chest. They plastered his tank top down into his fur. "He just wants to get at me. That's all he wants."

The fox's paws slid down to Veronica's behind, slid back up underneath her shirt. He stroked her bare back up to the strap of her bra and then rubbed her in gentle circles. "Maybe he's different. Maybe. It's been a long time. What if he changed?"

"He hasn't," Veronica said with sudden hate.

"Are you sure?" Kahnso asked, his voice low and gentle. Veronica recognized it as the voice he used when Alex was still little and prone to tantrums. She hated how comforting it was. "I changed."

"You did," she admitted, and sobbed quickly. She nuzzled roughly into his chest. Tears streaked through his fur. "I don't know what to do..."

Kahnso kissed her on the head through her soft blonde hair. "Think about it. Just think about it, honey." Another smooch. "Whatever you do, I've got your back. I love you."

"I love you, too," she replied instantly, lamely. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about what-."

"It's all right," Kahnso said. It really wasn't; what she said hurt him. It made him think of all the times they'd argued and he had failed to bring up her questionable parents. He wasn't sure if that meant he was a decent man or a pussy who wouldn't go for the nuclear option. "Let's go lay down."

Veronica started to peel away from him. Her eyes were red and puffy as if she'd gotten a face full of pollen. "I need to put the food away," she said determinedly.

"I got the food. I have a helper for that kinda thing," he said, forcing a grin. To his relief, she smiled back before sobbing again.

"God, I'm a wreck. I'm sorry, Kahnso. I'm so sorry I get like this."

He chuckled, nuzzled her, and kissed her lips. "I think you're complaining to the wrong drama queen here." Another squeeze, and then he released her. Sink or swim, he thought. Can't hold onto me forever.

"I'm going to lie down," she said as if the idea were her own. She sniffled and walked past him, up the stairs and towards the bedroom they shared.

Kahnso called down his daughter. She was happy to help daddy put the food away.