Dimly, Crissy became aware of early morning light spilling into her apartment window and falling across her face. Her scrapbook was still tucked tightly into her arms. The sheets had become twisted and tucked around her in the night. She groaned and pressed her face into the pillows again. One day left. One day and then she'd be back to work. And she had every intention of spending it in bed berating herself for taking a flying leap of faith on the wrong man. Again.

Slowly, Crissy opened her eyes. And more ration thoughts began to seep into her mind, despite her best attempts at ignoring them. Amy would be by to check on her pretty soon. The minute she stepped in the door and noticed the trail of rejected winter clothing all the way up to Crissy's apartment, she would know something was wrong, very, very wrong.

Crissy forced herself into a sitting position, her eyes screwed shut against the bright morning light. She placed a hand lightly against her aching head then pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes. She took in a shaky breath to compose herself and swung her feet to the floor. She was tired of crying over men breaking her heart. Amy had picked up Crissy and put her back together before, but Crissy was determined Amy wasn't going to do that again.

Crissy shoved off the bed and started picking up the discarded clothing she had abandoned the previous day. With every step she took, with every article of clothing she picked up, she heard him.

Step.

Hat.

Is everything about food with you?

Step.

Coat.

Is everything...?

Crissy snapped up straight so fast that black spots danced across her vision. "Screw you," she said aloud.

In a fury now, she gathered the last of her clothing but as she stormed towards the kitchen, a small package at the door caught her attention and made her pause. She hadn't picked up the mail yesterday, too lost in her own mess to care about anything else.

Crissy opened the door and snatched up the box as cold air snaked down her t-shirt. She didn't know what she expected, or what she hoped for, or whether her hopes and expectations were really one and the same. Did she want it to be an apology from Quinn? Or did she want nothing to do with him?

But one glance at the address label made her groan because neither her expectations nor her hopes made any difference.

Lisa Atwood.

"Not Mom," she sighed. "Not today."

She knew exactly what would be in that box too. Her mother's new diet for the wedding. The diet her mother insisted she go on as well.

Crissy fled to the sanctuary of her kitchen and dumped her winter clothes and the box on the counter. She ripped open the refrigerator door and started pulling out butter, eggs, milk, cream, and shoved them onto the counter.

Crissy was enveloped in a cloud of flour, furiously whisking when Amy's sing-song voice chirped from the shop.

"Morning, cupcake!" she called. Her footsteps came closer, rounded the counter, and entered the kitchen. "I brought milkshakes and french fries and I thought..." Her footsteps stopped dead and her bag dropped to the floor with a whump.

"What did he do?" she demanded.

Crissy hugged her bowl a little tighter and whisked a little faster and she didn't look up, didn't trust herself to look up. She had finally stopped crying and she was not about to burst into tears again. The second she looked up, her resolve would vanish and god help her, she was going to hold onto it this time.

Amy set a paper bag on the counter with a crinkle of paper and rested her chin on Crissy's shoulder.

"Talk to me, sugar," she whispered. "Please."

For a moment, Crissy managed to cling to her fragile, wavering resolve. Then her face crumpled. Amy took the bowl out of her hands, set it on the counter, and wrapped her arms around Crissy. She cradled the back of Crissy's head in her hand and rubbed Crissy's back as Crissy cried into Amy's shoulder. Amy didn't let go until Crissy had quieted down to soft, breathy hiccups. She pulled away and placed her hands on either side of Crissy's tear-stained face.

"What. Happened?" she asked, slowly, her gaze steady.

Crissy swallowed. "We got a little...I told him I wanted to take things slow. And he just...left. Like I'd offended him or something. But when I tried to talk to him about it, he..."

She broke off and bit her lip, her eyes squeezed shut. Amy's jaw went tight and she straightened, tucking Crissy under her arm again as she pressed a kiss to Crissy's forehead.

"I'm gonna kill him," she said.

She started pulling open drawers, digging through spatulas and spoons, until she came up with the thickest, stoutest rolling pin Crissy owned, and she smacked it against her palm as she headed for the door. Crissy's eyes widened and she caught Amy's arm.

"Amy, no, what are you...?" Crissy hesitated. Did she really want to know what Amy was planning to do with that rolling pin?

Maybe...maybe not.

"You can't," she said instead.

"Sugar, I love you dearly, but I've made up my mind. I didn't do anything to Rob because you asked me to and I should have. I had plans too you know. Really good ones. Painful ones. But I'm not sitting this one out. He made you cry. He's a dead man."

Amy pushed past her out of the kitchen. Crissy tried to hold on to her arm but her grip slipped and Amy kept plowing forward. Crissy hurried after her out of the shop and onto the snowy sidewalk. She bristled in the cold, curling in on herself, but she still tried to get ahead of Amy, to block her path.

As Amy turned the corner, a pair of arms caught her around the middle and picked her up until her feet were kicking uselessly in the air. Manu held on tight despite Amy trying to squirm away from him. Amy had a good three or four inches of height over him but Manu was wide, built like a tank, and he had a vise-like grip. Despite Amy wriggling against his hold, Manu wrestled her back into the warmth of the shop.

"Manu, let me go," Amy growled.

"I don't think so, babe," he replied. "I've seen that look on your face before. Someone's earned himself a little slice of hell."

Crissy plucked the rolling pin out of Amy's hand and stepped back as Amy struggled more.

"He deserves it!" Amy said.

"I'm sure he does," Manu said.

Finally, Amy sagged with a grunt of defeat. "Let me go," she repeated, sullen this time.

Manu kissed the back of her neck and adjusted his hold on her as he set her down. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and interlaced his fingers with hers. She pouted only a little but didn't pull away, leaning into his chest.

"Where did you come from?" Crissy asked. "I thought you'd be with your band."

"Amy told me to wait in the car. She thought you might need to be taken out for the day for a little distraction. Then I saw Amy on the war path. What exactly is going on anyway?"

Before Crissy could explain, Amy jumped in.

"Quinn was an ass and made Crissy cry."

Manu's arms fell away from Amy as he glanced at Crissy with concern. "That true?"

She hesitated and slid into a nearby booth, setting the rolling pin on the table. Manu took Amy's hand and the two of them slid into the booth across from her, first Amy then Manu. When Crissy didn't say anything for several long seconds, Manu broke the silence.

"I can leave...if you're more comfortable talking to Amy."

Crissy glanced up with a small smile and shook her head. "I don't mind." Her gaze shifted between them, how at ease they looked side by side, hands clasped together as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"How did you know?" she asked.

Amy blinked. "Know what?"

Crissy gestured between them. "How did you know to take a chance on each other? Weren't you...scared? That it might not work out?"

Manu chuckled quietly and placed his free hand on Amy's arm. He turned to look at her, a soft smile teasing at his lips.

"To be honest, I was terrified. Amy is a force to be reckoned with and I was so shy, I barely spoke three words together in a day."

Amy beamed at Manu, a wide smile that made her eyes sparkle. Seeing that smile made Crissy's chest ache, to see her best friend so happy, and wonder if it was ever possible that she could find such happiness for herself.

Amy turned her attention to Crissy and reached across the table to take her hand. "We might be crazy stupid in love with each other, Cris, but I won't lie. Manny drives me insane sometimes."

"Hey," Manu protested with a gentle elbow to Amy's ribs. For a second, they tussled and wrestled and poked at each other before Manu let Amy shove her shoulder against him, pinning him to the wall. And he gave a mock sigh in acceptance of his defeat.

Amy didn't ease up on Manu as she propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands, looking at Crissy.

"Do you really think this is something you can work out with Quinn?" she asked.

Crissy glanced down at the table top, tipping the rolling pin back and forth between her hands. She'd like to say yes, but she was still too raw and tender from yesterday's events.

"No," she whispered. "I think...we're..." The last word caught in her throat. Done. She'd wanted this too much. She'd rushed in without thinking, again, and she had arrived at the exact same place: hurt.

No one spoke, the only sound in the shop was the rolling pin grating back and forth on the table top.

"I think part of it was my fault," she said, her voice so small in the silence.

Amy growled. "Sugar, I highly doubt that. I..."

Manu cut her off as he tucked his hand around her waist. "Let her talk, babe," he whispered.

Crissy kept her gaze on the rolling pin, back and forth, back and forth. "I brought him food. Turnovers. His favorites. 'Cause I thought maybe that would make things easier. I always feel better with food. But he...didn't want them. He said..."

The words lodged in her throat and she swallowed, then swallowed again, in an effort to force them out.

"He asked if everything was about food with me and I..."

Amy sat up straight in the booth and gripped the table until her knuckles turned white. Slowly, Manu reached across the table and slid the rolling pin out of Crissy's grasp.

"I'll be right back," he said.

Crissy snagged the rolling pin and held it to her chest. "Stop taking my rolling pin. It's for bread not violence."

"Sugar, I've seen you waling on that bread before," Amy said. "You are plenty capable of violence all on your own." She slipped in next to Crissy. "Why didn't you call me yesterday and tell me? I would have been over right away."

"You deserve a weekend," Crissy said, her eyes burning with the threat of tears again. "You always work so hard. And you've already picked me up before, I wanted...to not fall apart this time. Over him."

Amy tucked a strand of hair behind Crissy's ear. "Sugar, it's perfectly all right to be upset, you don't have to hide that kind of stuff from me. I appreciate the gesture, but it's not necessary." She patted Crissy's knee. "Now come on. Get dressed. The three of us, we're getting you out of this little town for the day."

She reached for the rolling pin but Crissy tightened her grip with a wary look.

"Only bread, I know, I know," Amy said and kissed Crissy's forehead. "I'm so sorry, Sugar," she whispered.