When Oliver arrived home last night, he was cold, wet, and emotionally exhausted. The first two conditions were relatively easy to remedy-a hot shower and a cup of tea made him feel almost human again. The only problem was that as a human being, his emotions were raw. He had not slept all night. He sat in his living room, rifling through the memories and pictures of his life with Holly. He knew that sending the letter to Holly in Paris was essential, but sending it had not completely quelled his fears.

While these emotions were swirling around his mind, he couldn't shake the situation concerning Shane McInerney. He had only known her for about six months, and yet no one had ever bewildered him in such a dramatic fashion. From the moment they first met at the coffee shop to last night's tearful, water-logged scene, it seemed that Shane McInerney had taken a prominent place in his life and thoughts. Not to mention his heart. That was the thing that confused him more than anything. Never had a woman infiltrated every fiber of his being in the way Shane had. And the worst part was that he was not free to sort out these conflicting emotions. He had prayed innumerable times that the matter concerning Holly would be resolved promptly and in the way-no, he would leave that up to God.

Suddenly, Oliver was roused from his reverie by a knock at the door. That was rather odd. This was the first sick day he had taken while at the DLO, and only three people knew he was not at work. There was no way that Shane, Norman, or Rita would make the trek out here to check on him. So who could it be?

Sighing, Oliver stood and sauntered to the door. On the way, the urgent knock came again, and this irritated Oliver to a degree. Why is it that someone would be knocking at his door so impatiently? Didn't the person outside the door realize that he was on his way to the door? This person certainly appeared to have no manners whatsoever.

Oliver was so enraged by this behavior, that he forgot to look through the peephole to see who was there. Instead, he flung open the door, fully prepared to bellow at the interloper on the other side of the door.

"Oliver?" a feminine voice whispered tentatively. Instantly, Oliver knew who was at the door, and it was if all the wind was knocked out of him at once.

"Shane-uh-Miss McInerney," Oliver breathed rather embarrassedly, "I never expected, that is, whatever, I-"

Shane smiled warmly at Oliver and inquired, "Oliver, do you mind if I come in?"

"Certainly, Miss McInerney," Oliver acknowledged as he stepped aside to permit her entrance. "Please forgive the state of disarray in my house as well as my state of disrobement." After all, he was wearing an untucked shirt and pants with no tie, jacket, nor vest.

Shane tried to suppress a giggle at his apology as she stepped through his door. It was then that she glanced around at his immaculately decorated home. Her sharp intake of breath came before she could stop it.

"Miss McInerney, I do solemnly apologize," Oliver continued. "I know that the house is somewhat cluttered and my paraphernalia is rather scattered throughout the-"

"Oliver," Shane interrupted.

Oliver looked up at Shane in puzzlement.

"Do you mind if we sit down somewhere?" Shane continued.

Oliver looked around in a rather agitated manner. "Certainly, Miss McInerney, uh, where would you like to-"

"Will the couch over there work?" Shane offered with a grin.

"Certainly," he responded.

She followed him to his vintage but impeccably-preserved sofa. She was almost afraid to sit down, but she followed his lead and timidly took a seat next to him. She noticed all the letters, loose photos and albums lying around on the solid oak coffee table, but she decided not to say anything about them. If Oliver wished to share, he would. It was clear that her visiting him had completely muddled him, and it was up to her to put him at ease.

"Oliver, I want to apologize for not calling first," she said.

Oliver was doing his best to compose himself in Shane's presence and almost didn't realize what she had said. "Oh, it's no problem."

"You have a lovely home, Oliver. And your furnishings are absolutely amazing. You could probably open your own antique store if you wanted to."

"Thank you, Sh-Miss McInerney. I do not normally have house guests, and I have to admit seeing you at the door rather flustered me. Is all well at the DLO?"

"Yes, yes, Oliver. Things were rather slow today, and so I left Rita and Norman in charge. They were doing just fine when I left."

"That is quite satisfying to know. This is the first time I have ever taken any kind of medical leave."

"The three of us were quite concerned about you, Oliver."

"Really?"

Shane's cheeks began to redden. "Actually, I was rather concerned about you. Rita and Norman seemed rather preoccupied today. After last night when-"

"Yes, well, I am quite unimpaired, Miss McInerney. Just rather exhausted from yesterday. I felt it was in my best interest to remain at home today."

"Yes, well, I'm so glad you're fine."

Both Oliver and Shane stared at the floor as an uncomfortable silence enveloped the room. Neither one of them knew what else to say. Oliver knew that if he started talking, he would say things that he might regret later on. And Shane didn't trust herself to not betray her feelings even though she knew she would have to be the one to break the silence. It was evident that Oliver was truly struggling with how to respond to the situation and her.

"Oliver," Shane broke the silence rather hesitantly.

Oliver refused to make eye contact but responded, "Yes, Miss McInerney?"

"There is another reason I'm here today."

"Indeed?" Oliver still declined to look her way.

"Post office business."

At this, his head shot up swiftly, and he looked at her with a relieved expression. "Indeed?"

"Yes," she smiled as she opened her purse. She pulled out the letter in question and studied it curiously. "We were going through the dead letters, and we happened upon an envelope addressed to Mitchell and Barbara O'Toole of Pennsylvania."

At the sound of those names, Oliver's eyes grew wide with indescribable emotion. It had been nearly twenty years since anyone had uttered his parents' names, and now there was a letter bearing their names? This made no sense to him, and he honestly did not know how to react. And then his mind scampered with worry about what potential research Shane might have done about his parents. After all, she was extremely curious, and for all he knew, she was aware of every aspect of his story thanks to her technological prowess.

"Uh, Oliver, I have to tell you," Shane resumed. "Rita is the one who knew these were your parents' names-you know how she always see the personnel files. She was the one who told me where you had lived, and we only barely made out that the envelope had the letters PA on it for Pennsylvania. I'll admit that I was tempted to do some searching. Yes, I wanted to open the letter, and I wanted to look up everything about you and your parents. However, I remembered that would be a potential invasion of privacy. I don't want you to ever have a moment to distrust me again, so I chose to bring you the letter. It's yours, and what you do with it is also yours. That is, unless you have a forwarding address for your parents. I can even let you address it, and I'll take it back to the DLO."

Oliver finally permitted himself to look directly at Shane. As he met her eyes, everything he could ever want and more were found in the beautiful soul he saw beyond those pools of blue. He saw her apology, regret, hope, curiosity, and so much more. Most importantly, he saw that she was waiting on his lead to make the next move. She was allowing him to be in charge and decide what would happen next. This was so contrary to the woman he knew. The one who simply adored taking charge of the situation in spite of his protestations. There was no doubt in his mind that she willingly set aside her own aspirations for his. And he hoped with all of his heart that she was doing that for the same reason that was guiding his forthcoming actions.

With trembling hands, Shane passed him the letter, and she waited for him to take it. When he didn't immediately take it, she said, "Oliver, this is yours. If you take it now, I can make my way back to the DLO. Maybe things have picked up a bit there." She finally placed it in his lap and began to get up as if to leave. "Oliver, I'm so glad that you're not deathly sick or anything, and hopefully we will see you again at the office when you're feeling more up to work."

She began to walk towards the door, but Oliver gently took her by the arm. "Shane."

Shane stopped in her tracks as if paralyzed when he said her name. It was then that she realized he was also touching her arm. She genuinely did not know how to react, but she doubted she would be leaving anytime soon.

Oliver tenderly drew Shane back to him so she was facing him. However, Shane refused to look at him. She was doing her best to keep her emotions under control, but she knew if she looked at him, she would dissolve into tears. He took her chin and lifted it so she was gazing at him.

With a shy smile, Oliver murmured, "Shane, come back. Come back, Shane."

Shane knew he was referencing the film that shared her name, but she also knew he was referring to the time when they were first introduced and he attempted to change her name to Sheryl.

"You know, Shane, that was a line I never expected to utter again after you attempted to leave the DLO several months ago. But now I say it to you quite willingly. I do not desire for you to ever leave my life again."

"But, Oliver," Shane objected, "you're still married and-

Oliver placed his finger on her lips to silence her. "Shane, I am not requesting that you become my paramour or anything disgraceful similar to that. I am only endeavoring to convince you to remain in my life. I do believe that there have been enough secrets that have kept us apart. And that is not what friends do. Do you agree, Shane?"

Shane hesitated for a moment, trying to decide how to respond. Oliver wanted to be her friend? And as she peered into his eyes, she knew that there might be a promise one day of something more. It really all depended upon the "Holly" question. But till then…

"Words are easy like the wind; faithful friends are hard to find, " Shane recited.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "That is a stimulating response, Shane."

"I believe that when words fail you, Shakespeare often says it best."

"I agree completely but with one exception."

"What is that?"

Oliver gently smoothed back one of Shane's blonde hairs with a grin. "Shakespeare never did say that. Or at least, it is not confirmed. It appears in The Passionate Pilgrim, but-"

Shane placed her finger on Oliver's lips to silence him. "You know, Oliver, I really don't care. At least not right now."

Without warning, Oliver wrapped Shane in a warm hug, and it seemed that all awkwardness drained from the situation.

While still in the embrace, Oliver whispered, "Shane, you do comprehend that I cannot offer you anything but friendship. I-"

Shane only held him tighter. "Dear Oliver, I'm not asking for you to break your vows in any way." She disengaged herself from his arms and looked him in the eye. "Oliver, I will be here for you no matter what. I promise you that. Whether your wife comes back or not. You can count on that."

Oliver smiled and kissed the top of her head rather quickly. "All right, Shane, then let us get to the business at hand."

They were both seated again. Oliver retrieved the envelope from where it had fallen on the floor and inspected it meticulously.

"So, Oliver, do you have your parents' most current address? If you do, we can-"

With a pained expression, Oliver took Shane's hand. She instantly knew something was wrong. She turned to him and asked, "Oliver, what is it? I know this letter disturbs you but I honestly don't know why. "

With anguish in his voice, Oliver uttered, "Shane, my parents are dead. They died nearly twenty years ago."

Shane squeezed his hand and put it to her heart. "Oh, Oliver, I had no idea. None of us did. I'm so sorry! I never would have brought this letter if-"

"It's okay," he whispered as he gently kissed her fingers. "I never talk about them."

"Do you mind if I ask what happened?"

The moment she asked this question, she was stricken with grief. Oliver dropped her hand and stood up in a rather distressed manner. '

"I'm sorry, Oliver," Shane murmured. "I had no right to ask you. It was a stupid question."

Immediately, Oliver sat down and looked her in the eye. "Shane, you are in error You had the perfect right to ask, and I am convinced it is important to the understanding of this letter. I am sincerely sorry that I acted like that. It is excessively difficult because I do not normally talk about this. In fact, I have not told a living soul since right after it happened. And I honestly want to tell you, but it is extremely onerous to discuss it."

"How can I make it easier, Oliver?"

"Look, Shane, when I explain to you what occurred, I know I am going to become emotional. I do not like for anyone to see me weep, but I know I will not get through this without weeping. I am going to tell you, but then I need for you to hold me and let me be emotional without saying a word. Can you do that? Granted, it is an unusual request, but-"

"Say no more, Oliver. Tell me when ready, and I promise I'll hold you as long as you need me to. Even if it's takes all night."

Goodness gracious, Oliver thought, I wish she had not said that. If she only knew how much she affected me. How on earth can I be so attracted to her when I am about to divulge the worst thing that has ever happened in my life? I must have some deep affection for her.

"Very well," Oliver drawled. "Here goes. My parents were both m-m-murdered!"

On that last word, Oliver dissolved into tears, and Shane instantly enfolded him in her arms. She had no idea that he had ever gone through anything like that, and she prepared for several hours of just holding him. She had never known anyone who had a murdered relative or loved one. She had no idea what to do except hold Oliver as he cried. It was clear that years of pain were oozing out through those tears. She began to silently pray as she held him.

God, I don't really know you, but Oliver does, she prayed in her mind. Please comfort him, and please help me know what to do. Oliver knows You, and I want to know You, too. Please show Yourself to me, and help me comfort Oliver. Help us get to the bottom of this letter together. Amen.