She and Jerry had managed to tippy-toe around the occasion the entire day. No talking about Scott. No acknowledging this would have been his birthday. Two people trapped in their own private worlds of grief and remorse. Unable to talk. Unable to express feelings. Unable to communicate on the most basic level. Just ignore the issue and hope it would go away. And if they waited long enough, it would be midnight, and Scott's eighteenth birthday would have come and gone. Unnoticed. But that wasn't going to happen, she vowed. Scott would not just be shoved back into the dark recesses of their individual minds, never to surface because his parents couldn't talk about him. Lifting the envelope from the table, she left the stateroom and made her way down the passageway toward Jerry's stateroom. She didn't know if he'd be there, but if he wasn't, she'd wait until he returned. When she approached his quarters, however, she saw under the door that the lights were on and assumed he was in. She rapped lightly.
