That night we had a party. After I stopped crying and the three of us wiped our tears of frustration away, my Mom suggested the silliest thing ever. And Dad agreed. We couldn’t leave the house, so to lift our spirits, we would take a vacation at home.

Devon loved it. From the loud music, to the dancing parade, to baking cookies, making huge sundaes, popping popcorn, and watching a movie, she had a blast. And I had fun too.

Devon crashed in her sleeping bag on the living room floor almost as soon as the movie started, but I curled up beside Mom on the couch and let her stroke my hair as I lost myself in the slap-stick antics of people who had worse problems than us and managed to make it through.

I stumbled upstairs barely keeping my eyes open after the movie and thinking only about bed. I felt tons better. We were a family and in this together.

Outside
I could not believe it. For a family given bad news, they sure acted strange tonight. Music, dancing, laughing, it was odd. How could they be so happy?