A/N: This story is gratefully dedicated to everyone who's ever contributed to a story challenge. Thank you all! And a special thanks to Cheri for the superfast beta and for starting us off on this site in the beginning.

INVALID RESPONSE

by

Owlcroft

"No, not there." Hardcastle pointed to the night stand next to the bed. "Put it there, so if he gets thirsty he doesn't have to get up."

Millie nodded, picked up the water carafe and matching glass and positioned them both on the night stand doily. "There," she said, moving the glass just a fraction. "I thought I'd also put an extra blanket over the foot of the bed--"

"Nah, a quilt'd be better," interrupted the judge. "I'll get one from the cedar chest. Now," he stood a moment, examining the guest room. "I think we've got everything done here – no, hang on. What about those flowers. I mean," he shuffled his feet a little, "I think it's kinda silly, but I know you wanted to put some in here."

"I've got them in water in the kitchen," said Millie placidly. "I'll bring them up once we've got him settled." She ran a hand over the pillow, smoothing the surface. "You did say he liked those yellow roses best, didn't you?"

Hardcastle shrugged and turned to leave the room. "Yeah, I think so," he mumbled.

The motherly older woman smiled to herself and followed him out into the hallway. "I'll do some grocery shopping this afternoon while he's having a nap. Is there anything in particular you wanted to have the next few days?"

"Ya know, we don't wanna baby the guy. I mean, okay, he's had a bad time, but you can go overboard on this stuff, too." He led the way down the stairs and into the hall. "Hmm, that beef stew you make would be good. He really . . . um, we really like that a lot. Lemme think, maybe some steaks." He pondered, then snapped his fingers. "Turkey! You know, something kinda special, for tomorrow. Make it like a little holiday, sort of a welcome home thing. Whaddaya think?" He lifted his eyebrows hopefully.

"I think that's a wonderful idea. I'll get a nice turkey and make a pumpkin pie. I have this feeling he prefers pumpkin to mince." She smiled impishly as she checked to see that Hardcastle got the joke.

"Hm-mph, yeah," he grinned wryly back at her. "He does. Hey, you really think he's gonna be able to handle stairs?"

Millie sighed. "Judge Hardcastle, you know the doctor said he just had to take it easy and not tire himself. Otherwise, they wouldn't be releasing him yet."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He waved a hand in dismissal. "You don't need to be worrying about him getting around, ya know. He'll do just fine." He looked around the foyer, then went down the steps into the den. "I think we need another pillow for the couch, don't you?"

"I'll get one from the hall closet. Why don't you move the coffee table a little further away to make it easier for him to get to the couch?"

The judge hastened to do just that, saying, "You're gonna spoil him, ya know, if ya keep going like this."

Millie smiled as she watched him tenderly adjust the pillow and blanket already positioned on the couch. "I'll try not to. But I don't think a little spoiling would be a bad thing right now."

"It's never a good thing," he huffed, arms akimbo. "I think we're all set. Nope, forgot the remote. He's gonna want it right here where he can reach it." He placed the remote control carefully on the coffee table, stepped back, eyed it, then moved it to the small end table instead. "There." He clapped his hands together. "What time is it?"

"It's not even nine-thirty," said the housekeeper patiently. "He's not going to be discharged until eleven, so we've got plenty of time."

"Yeah, but you never know what the traffic's gonna be like. Come on, come on," he shooed her up the steps to the hall. "Oh, wait a minute. You did get that chicken salad fixed for lunch, right?"

"Yes, Judge," sighed Millie. "And there's plenty of juice in the fridge and I phoned the pharmacy and they'll have the prescriptions ready for us to pick up, and I made sure there's plenty of gas in my car, and there's a cushion in the back for him to rest against, and --"

Hardcastle shook his head at her and held up a hand, palm out. "You're carrying this babying thing too far, Millie. He's just coming home from the hospital, not from a war."

They both fell silent after that remark, then the judge took in a breath and hastened to hold the front door open. "Let's get going. Maybe they'll let him go a little early." He smiled a little hopeful smile and ushered Millie onto the stoop.

"It won't be a minute too soon," said Millie under her breath.

finis