Shawn had just barely drifted back to sleep after the blare of Juliet's alarm when the bedroom door swung open so fast it crashed into the wall. Without opening his eyes, Shawn knew his son was on his way to ruin his morning of blissful slumber.

Little feet pounded across the carpet and came to rest at Shawn's side of the bed. “Daddy,” the little boy whispered. Shawn could feel his warm breath on his nose.

He reluctantly cracked his eyes open and looked into the concerned face of his three-year-old. “Go ask Mommy,” he muttered.

Owen's eyes flicked to the door. “Mommy's in the potty.”

Shawn groaned and buried his face in the pillow, hoping Owen would magically decide to go back to bed.

“Daddy!” No such luck. The little boy tugged on his sleeve. “I need to show you somefing!”

“Let's look later, buddy,” Shawn tried, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“No, Daddy, now! C'mon!” Owen said, pulling with both small hands at Shawn's shirt. “It's apportant!”

Shawn lifted his head with a sigh and allowed Owen to tug him out of bed. “It's important, huh? Not as important as another hour of sleep, I bet,” he grumbled as Owen led him out of the bedroom and down the hallway.

They came to a stop in front of the laundry room door and Owen pointed. “In dere.”

Impatiently, Shawn reached forward and turned the knob. “What's in here, Owen? It can't -” As he swung the door open and let his eyes roam the room he realized what Owen had meant. In his bed next to the dryer Juliet's long-time companion, Gehringer, was curled up and unmoving. Shawn would have assumed the aged cat was just still asleep, except there was a more profound stillness to him than usual.

Shawn took a couple of steps into the room and crouched down next to the little wicker basket. He reached out a tentative hand and laid it on Gehringer's black fur. No warmth came from the cat, but Shawn left his hand there for another moment, hoping to feel him draw a breath. He felt Owen come up and lean against him.

“Gewwy o-tay?” the little boy asked.

Shawn grimaced and shut his eyes, trying to come up with something he could tell his son. This was the kind of thing Jules was supposed to handle, right? He took care of the fun stuff, Jules could handle the serious stuff. He covered his mouth with his free hand at the sudden realization that he didn't know how he was going to tell Jules about this, let alone Owen. She was going to be heartbroken.

“Daddy?” Owen said.

Shawn sat down on the cement floor with a thump and drew Owen into his lap. “Oh, buddy,” he muttered, resting his chin on top of the little boy's sandy hair.

But Owen pulled away and headed for Gehringer. “You 'posed to wake him up, Daddy,” the little boy said, frowning.

Shawn caught his little hand. “Gerry's not going to wake up, buddy,” he said gently, his eyes stinging. He loved that cat almost as much as Jules did and it hurt to say that.

Owen looked back at him. “Why?”

Shawn's mind raced to come up with an answer the little boy could understand. “Uh, he went to kitty heaven.”

Owen's frown deepened. “He wight here.”

Instead of answering, Shawn pushed himself up off the cold cement and picked Owen up. Jules would be out of the shower soon and he wanted to postpone her discovery of Gehringer's passing as long as possible, maybe forever. He just didn't think he could handle the sadness he knew he'd see in her eyes. He thought briefly of trying to buy a new black cat and hope she wouldn't notice, but he knew it would never work. For one thing, Gehringer had that little spaceship-shaped white patch on the back of his right paw. Jules always said it looked like a flower, but Shawn insisted it looked more like the Millenium Falcon.

To his dismay, he felt his eyes welling up again as he carried Owen out of the laundry room and shut the door. She was going to be able to tell something was wrong if he didn't think fast.

“Hey, Owen, Gerry going to kitty heaven is going to be a secret, okay?” he said, walking back down the hall to the living room.

Owen was still sporting a confused frown. “Why?”

“Because it will make Mommy really sad if we tell her,” he replied, continuing through the living room to the kitchen. He was hoping he had time to make breakfast for Jules to distract her.

“Why?” Owen said.

Shawn set the little boy down on the table and opened the fridge. “Oh, good. Enough eggs for an omelet.” He set the eggs on the counter and leaned down, rummaging in the cupboards for a skillet. “Because she'll miss Gerry, buddy.”

“Daddy,” Owen said patiently. “Gewwy is in his bed.”

“But he's not here anymore, Owen.”

“Who's not here?” At the sound of Juliet's voice, Shawn froze. “Shawn, what are you doing?” she continued.

Glad to have a question he could safely answer, Shawn popped up, skillet in hand. “Making breakfast!” he said, hoping his cheerfulness wouldn't appear too forced.

She raised her eyebrows into the towel that was wrapped around her damp hair.

“What?” he stepped toward her and leaned in until their noses were almost touching. “Why wouldn't I want to make breakfast for the most beautiful woman in the world?”

She closed the gap and kissed him lightly. “Thank you, but what did you do?”

Shawn pulled back, avoiding her eyes and heading toward the stove. “Do? I did not do anything.”

Before he could stop her, Jules changed tactics and picked up Owen. Shawn cursed inwardly. He knew for a fact that three-year-olds, especially three-year-olds named Owen Spencer, did not keep secrets well. Juliet hugged said three-year-old and tickled his neck with her nose, making him giggle. “Hi, sweetheart! Did you wake Daddy up today?”

Owen nodded, resting his head on her shoulder with a contented sigh. Shawn cursed inwardly. Owen was going to let it slip any minute now.

“Hey, Owen! Want to help me?” he broke in before Juliet could ask the little boy anything else.

Owen raised his head and looked back and forth between parents.

“It's okay, Owen. Go help daddy while I finish getting ready,” she said, shooting an amused look at Shawn as she set Owen down.

She turned and went back down the hall and Shawn blew a sigh of relief. “Okay, c'mon buddy. She's gonna do her hair next so we have some time.” He pulled over a chair so Owen could reach the counter.

But he didn't hear the blow dryer turn on as he had anticipated. Instead, he heard her looking through the closet in their room. He realized with horror that she had been wearing her grey pencil skirt with her yellow shirt. Normally that wouldn't be a bad thing; it was one of his favorite shirts. But the grey jacket she always wore with it was hanging in the laundry room.

The clicking of plastic hangers bumping into each other ceased and he knew she would head to the laundry room next. He didn't want her to see Gerry like that yet. He had to find a good way to break it to her.

He rushed from the kitchen and down the hall, making it to the laundry room door just as Jules came out of the bedroom. She frowned at him.

“What's going on, Shawn?” she asked, using her serious voice.

“I was . . . just going to grab your jacket for you,” he said, which was entirely true.

Owen wandered in and reached up for Juliet's hand. “Don' go in dere, Mommy,” he said solemnly.

Juliet looked at him and then at Shawn who was frantically motioning Owen to be quiet. “Did you let Owen play with your markers again or something?” she asked him.

“Nope,” Shawn answered.

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Will you please just tell me what's going on?” she asked, her eyes pleading with him.

Shawn sighed. The gig was up. He walked over to her and took her free hand. “I just didn't want your whole day to be ruined,” he tried to explain. “I thought that if I could find a good enough way to tell you that you wouldn't be too sad. Because I hate that, Jules. I really do. So don't be too sad, okay?”

She stared up at him. “Sad about what?” she asked softly.

He bit his lip. “It's Gehringer.”

Her mouth dropped open and then she rushed forward without a word, dropping both of their hands. Shawn followed her, Owen right behind, as she opened the door. She stopped and stared at Gehringer in basket, her hands dropping limply to her sides.

Shawn wanted nothing more than to hug her and tell her he'd get her a new cat. He'd get her ten million new cats if that was what she wanted. But he knew she needed a moment to process.

After a long moment, she swiped at her eyes and turned back to them. “Well,” she said, her voice only quivering a little. “He was really old. I'm glad he went peacefully at least.”

“Mommy?” Owen said, leaning against her leg and looking up at her. “You sad?”

Jules false “everything is okay” face she'd put on crumbled a little so Shawn answered for her. “We're all a little sad, buddy,” he said, stepping closer to both of them and reaching down to stroke Owen's hair.

Tears welled up in the little boy's eyes and he ducked his face into Juliet's skirt. “I don' wanna be sad,” he cried.

Juliet crouched down and lifted him to her hip, a tear escaping her careful mask. “It's okay to be sad, sweetheart.”

Shawn wrapped his arms around both of them, the damp towel that was still wrapped around Juliet's head pressing into his cheek. He wanted to say something to make both of them happy again, but he wasn't feeling particularly happy himself. Gehringer had been a good cat.

He cleared his throat. “Hey, Jules? You still want an omelet?”

She nodded, her free arm holding onto him tightly. “In a minute.” They stood there in silence, even Owen holding still for once. “Shawn?” Juliet finally said, tipping her head so she could look at him.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for trying to make this easier on me.”

He shared a sad smile with her. “Anytime.”

She stepped away and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I need to finish getting ready. Can you take Owen?”

Shawn reached out and took the little boy but frowned. “Just stay home today. We can have a memorial service and everything. I'll get Gus to do the flower arrangements and you can write a speech and -”

“Shawn, I don't think that the … the death of a cat is a valid reason to skip work,” she said, glancing back into the laundry room.

“He's not a cat. He's Gerry,” Shawn insisted.

She looked back at him, her eyes welling up. “I need to go to work. If I stay here all day it will just be worse.”

Shawn nodded sadly. “We're still having a memorial service when you get home.”

She tried to smile at him, and turned to look at Gehringer one more time before reaching out and shutting the door with a soft snick. “He was such a good cat,” she whispered.

Shawn took her hand again. “He really was.”