"Dad?" Shawn stormed into the kitchen, pushing the door closed behind him.

Henry crouched behind the open door of the fridge, reaching for a beer.

"Hold the beer, Dad," he said. "I need your help."

Henry stood up, shoulders slumped, and closed the fridge. "Shawn, I was just about to sit down. It's Lilly's first game back on the mound, and I wouldn't mind - "

"It's not for a case." Shawn lowered his voice, adopting a serious tone.

"I don't care what it's for. If it's not baseball, and a couch isn't provided, I'm not interested."

"It's just a little handy-work. But it's important, and, hey, you should be impressed. I made not one, but two trips to the hardware store - all by myself - and everything's ready. I just need a little help. Come on. We'll bring your radio."

Henry glanced back at the fridge. Back at Shawn. Back at the fridge. "Fine," he said. "But I'm bringing my beer, too."

When they reached Juliet's broken window, Henry looked at Shawn in a way that reminded Shawn of a noble-but-weary patriarch peering over the top of wire-framed reading glasses. Just, without the glasses.

Shawn shrugged. "Look, Dad, it's broken. I want to fix it. I just" - he paused, sighing, gesturing to the empty window frame - "don't know how."

Henry set his six-pack and old transistor in the grass. "Well, have you thought of apologizing?"

He tilted his head. "Because the window's broken?"

"Sure," Henry said, turning on the radio, scrolling through the frequencies. "But mostly for being a self-absorbed jackass."

"You know what, Dad?" he said, frustration edging his voice as he climbed the ladder he'd abandoned earlier. "First of all, we're clearly talking about two different things. And second of all, I'm workin' on it. I just" - he released another blustery sigh - "I don't want to make it worse."

"Shawn, look, if you wait too long, you might not get a chance to make it better."

Inside the house, movement captured his attention. Shawn propped his hands against the window frame as Juliet walked into view, a mug of tea cupped in both hands. Her eyes flickered toward him above the rim of her mug. He spoke to her with a soft smile, the corners of his mouth curving upward. She raised her hand and flexed her fingers, answering with a quick wave, before she turned away and disappeared into the hall.

Shawn shook his head, trying to refocus. "Hand over that glass," he said, pointing to the new pane - correctly sized this time. "I've got to get crackin'."