Chapter 1

Neal cranked down the car window to let in some of the cool spring air as he took in his surroundings. He could see farms off in the distance and some cattle by the side of the road flying by at a good clip as he sped along the Yankee Expressway. The road was familiar by now; after all, he'd driven it in all four seasons over the past twelve months on his weekly excursions. It was a quick drive from White Plains, no more than 45 minutes, especially on Saturday mornings which was now his routine. He could see the state line up ahead and crossed over into Connecticut, looking back in his rear view mirror as he momentarily left New York State behind.

On any given day, he never knew what he'd find at the other end; some days were good, others not so much. He hoped he'd have a nice visit today. There was a lot happening at home what with Sara preparing to go out of town for a week and Liam's birthday coming up – but his weekly outing was sacrosanct and he smiled to himself as he thought of the loving face waiting for him at the other end.

He passed the city limits and grinned at the sign 'Welcome to Danbury, the Hat City'. His destination was just on the outskirts of town and Neal spotted the large brick building in the distance as he took the final bend in the road. Parking wasn't much of an issue at this time of day and he managed to get a spot near the front door, right next to the beautiful sprawling garden which was beginning to bloom with colourful tulips and bright yellow daffodils. The air was cool but the sun was gaining strength on this late May morning and Neal could feel it warming his back as he reached into the back seat of the car to grab the large bouquet of flowers he'd brought with him, as he'd done every single week for the past year.

He walked past the large welcome sign and waved to the gardener who was tending to the lush garden.

'Beautiful day!' he called out to the man in greeting.

'Si! It is!' responded the older man with a tip of his hat.

Neal walked through the ornate lobby and past the impressive sitting rooms. He noticed a small group of grey haired men and women engaged in a high stakes game of backgammon while another dozen or so residents sat, watching the news on a large screen television. Still others were clustered in small groups, chatting away about the weather or enjoying a cup of tea.

He spotted a group of silver haired women knitting and one of the ladies piped up as he sauntered by.

'Mr. Caffrey!' she called out, her voice shaky.

'Mrs. Dixon!' Neal said, slowing down and making his way over to them.

He leaned in and placed a small peck on her cheek as the woman blushed in response. Every Saturday morning, she waited patiently for him to walk by and she never let him slip by without stopping to give her a kiss. Neal was still a gorgeous looking guy by any standards - being in his fifties didn't change that - and the octogenarian loved having his undivided attention, albeit for just a fleeting moment once a week.

'Is that for your great-granddaughter?' he asked, pointing to the tiny booties she was knitting.

'Yes, my granddaughter is coming by to visit tomorrow and she's bringing the baby – Tiffany – now who calls a baby by a lamp's name?' she said, giggling as she addressed the other women of the quartet.

'I'm sure she's beautiful' said Neal, always the charmer.

'Did your friend like the sweater I knitted for her baby?' she asked.

'She loved it! As a matter of fact, we were over there just last week, and little Bibi was wearing it. You do impeccable work, Mrs. Dixon' he said as he prepared to continue on his way.

'See you next week!' she called out as the other women giggled, the giggle of teenagers and 80-year-old women who are lucky enough to capture the attention of a good looking man thirty years their junior.

Neal made his way to the elevator and pressed the up button, his thoughts wandering once more. Although there was some joy and laughter at Marigold, there was also a lot of pain and suffering and it was hard to stand by and watch the arrivals and departures – more often than not final departures, as seniors left in ambulances or on their way to the morgue, never to return.

He stepped off the elevator on the fifth floor and spotted a familiar figure down the hall, making notes on a chart, right outside room 522. The nurse saw him coming from a distance and put down her pen, turning to greet him.

'Good morning!' she said. 'You know, I could almost set my watch by your arrival time every Saturday morning.'

Neal grinned. 'Good morning Vanessa! Wouldn't want to keep my girl waiting. How is she today?'

'She had a restless night. She's been asking for you although she's hasn't been very coherent. The doctor is talking about the possibility of admitting her to hospital' Vanessa said.

'You're kidding! Is it that bad?' Neal asked, his smile disappearing.

'She's hasn't been very responsive and that mini-stroke she had last week has left her really weak on the left side. I'm afraid it might just be too much for her to come back from' the young woman explained.

Neal sighed. It had been a long time coming but he'd continued to hope against hope that things might get better.

'Look, go on in and have your visit and then stop by and see me before you leave. I'll fill you in on the details' she said, touching his arm.

He nodded and opened the door to the room, noting it was still dark inside. He made his way to the bed and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on the occupant's head.

'Good morning, June' he whispered softly.

She lay on the bed, unresponsive, sleeping the deep sleep of the elderly who have been heavily medicated. He made his way to the window as he continued to speak to her, unsure if she could hear him.

'What do you say we let in some of that beautiful sunlight, huh?' he said as he pulled back the curtains.

'I was lucky – I got your favourites today, lilies. Aren't they pretty?' he continued.

'Let's get rid of these' he said as he went to the small table by her bedside, removing the flowers he'd brought in the week before. He stepped into the adjoining bathroom in order to rinse out the beautiful crystal vase and get rid of the wilted blooms. He filled the vase up with fresh, clear water and returned to the room to deposit the new bouquet in its receptacle, turning to face the woman who had always been like a mother to him. Her eyes were open a crack and her face lit up as she smiled at him.

'Oh, Byron, you're here' she said, her voice small.

He sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand in his. Lately, she'd been more and more confused. Some days, she would recognize him and ask about Sara and the kids, other times she would just smile, not recognizing him at all and still other days, she would call him Byron and gaze lovingly at him. Neal had tried to keep her rooted in reality, reminding her of who he was but that only seemed to upset her more and lately, he hadn't had the heart to correct her, preferring to just hold her hand and listen to what she had to say.

'Darling, I'm so tired. I really think we need a holiday' she said, her gaze confused.

'Oh, yeah?' answered Neal with a warm smile. 'Where do you want to go?'

'I think we should go back to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. We had such a good time there last year' she said, continuing her delusion.

'That sounds great June' Neal said, squeezing her hand.

He felt a lump forming in his throat.

WCWCWC

Hope Ellis-Caffrey stood in the backroom of the Raphael Gallery admiring the painting produced by one of her best students. The Saturday afternoon art class had just ended and she'd been tidying up when she decided to stop for a moment in order to better examine the canvas. She was totally captivated by the piece and didn't hear Cameron Armstrong sneak up behind her. She let out a small gasp as he sidled up to her, lacing his arms around her waist and placing a small kiss on her neck.

'Wow! That kid's got talent' he said as his eyes rose to take in the canvas.

'She's amazing. Would you believe she's only twelve years old!' Hope said as she leaned back into her boyfriend's arms, feeling his strong, steady body against hers.

'So, ready to take a break?' he asked, holding her tight.

'Yeah, I'm starved. Is Max here yet?'

'Yup. He says he's good if we take an hour for lunch' answered Cameron, turning her around to face him.

He placed his hand on her chin, forcing her to look up at him as he placed a long, lingering kiss on her lips. Hope looked up, mesmerized; she was totally smitten with him and had been since the day he'd walked into the Raphael over a year ago. The couple had been an item almost since day one and over the past year, their relationship had deepened as they continued to work together and spend most of their free time in each other's presence. At first, Neal and Sara had been concerned about the age difference between them but, with time, they'd learned to appreciate Cameron's steady presence in their daughter's life.

'Why don't you and I go back to my place for lunch?' he said, continuing to place small playful kisses along Hope's jaw.

'Because if we go back to your place...' she said, eyes closed as she enjoyed the moment '...we won't eat.'

He laughed, realizing she was right. At the moment, he had other things than food on his mind.

WCWCWC

'So, do you want a ride to the airport tomorrow?' Sara asked.

She and Lydia Jordan were headed to Chicago for a week-long conference, representing Sterling Bosh at a best practices' symposium. Lydia was Sara's brightest and most promising insurance investigator and she'd become a good friend over the past couple of years as the women learned to appreciate each other's company in and out of the office.

'That'd be great! Sam won't have to take Bea out' she responded on the other end of the line.

'Oh, and Neal wants me to tell you that Sam's welcome for dinner while we're gone. How about Tuesday night?'

'I'll pass the invitation along. I'm sure Sam will appreciate the company. It can get pretty lonely taking care of a baby on your own for a day, let alone a week!'

At 14 months, Beatrice Sara Jordan was a beautiful baby, chatty, curious and full of energy. The Caffreys loved having their goddaughter over to their house to visit and Hope had taken to providing babysitting services for the Jordans whenever they needed a break.

'So, we'll be at your place at around 2:30. That'll give us plenty of time to check in' said Sara.

'I'll be ready.'

Sara hung up and glanced over towards the family room where her son, lay on the couch, listless and staring blankly at the television set. If she wasn't mistaken that sounded like a gardening show - which meant he wasn't paying attention in the least. She walked over to the couch, sitting on the edge and bringing her hand to rest on Liam's forehead.

'You okay, sweetie?' she asked her twelve-year-old.

He just looked at her, glassy-eyed and shrugged.

'Are you coming down with something?' she asked, running her hand through his hair. He had to be; Liam Caffrey was not the type to let his mom run her fingers through his hair, not unless he was feeling really, really rough. And right now, he was purring at the gentle touch of his mom's hand on his head.