Sunday late morning found Shirley and Carl comfortably sprawled on the thick carpeting of their living room with the various sections of the Boston Globe spread around them. They had enjoyed the leisurely breakfast he had made a few hours earlier and that treat had Shirley feeling grateful and frisky. When she had first kissed Carl and he responded, she had assumed they would head back upstairs, but he had surprised her by sinking them to the floor. Afterwards, he had arisen to bring the paper and coffee to her and resumed his place beside her.

"Wow, two surprises this morning. You know, we're not twenty – somethings anymore; we might not be able to get up after rolling around on the rug," Shirley chided. "What made you decide to stay in the living room?"

Carl grinned devilishly. "Why not? Imagine that 911 call: My husband and I have had sex and we can't get up!" He laughed aloud at his own joke. Just then, the phone rang and he glanced at the caller ID. "It's Katie," he announced before handing the cell to Shirley.

"Katie, hi. What? Why? Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. Yes, I appreciate you letting me know. What can I do? Alright, but if you think of anything Carl or I can do, please do not hesitate to call me. I'll see you at work." She ended the call and announced, "Jerry's called off their engagement."

Carl sat upright. "You're kidding. Why?"

"Apparently, she told him her mother had questioned her about having healthy children and he freaked thinking how their children might inherit his Asperger's."

"Poor Katie. Poor Jerry. It must have killed him to break it off with her. Why was she calling you?"

"To tell me I can stop looking at catering halls and menus." She sighed heavily. "I was really pulling for those two."

Katie hung up from her call to Shirley and sipped some more of the Blue Mountain coffee she had brewed earlier. I've called everyone I can think of calling except Mum. As if on cue, her intercom buzzed. She walked from her bedroom to the intercom panel next to her front door. "Who is it?"

"It's your Mum, Dear."

A few minutes later, she opened the door in response to her mother's knock. "Good morning, Katie. I popped over to see if you'd like to have brunch."

"Thank you, no. I was about to call you. I have something to tell you." She waved her arm in her kitchen's direction. "Would you like a coffee?" Without waiting for an answer, she headed that way with Lady Lloyd following.

"You sound serious, Katie, and your eyes are so red. Have you been crying?" When her daughter nodded yes she placed her hand on Katie's arm to stop her from preparing the coffee. Turning Katie to face her, she asked tenderly, "What is wrong, Darling?" Katie threw her arms around her mother and hugged her hard. Patting her back soothingly, Lady Lloyd said, "There, there, Katie. It's all right. Tell your Mum what's wrong."

"It's Jerry." After one more squeeze, Katie released her mother and leaned against her kitchen counter. "He's called off our engagement."

"What? How dare he do such a thing?"

Katie's eyes widened in surprise. "I thought you would be thrilled to hear I'm not marrying him!"

"I wanted you to break it off with him! That way, you could hold your head up; but this way, he's not marrying you. Why is that?"

"Because when I told him about our conversation at brunch yesterday, he said he hadn't thought about the possibility of our children having Asperger's and he didn't want me to suffer like his mother did." She shifted from side to side. "I told him I didn't care. He broke it off anyway."

Lady Lloyd sighed. She hated seeing her child hurting, but she was indeed happy that there would be no marriage to Jerry Espenson. "I'm sorry you're sad, Dear. What can I do to help?"

"Honestly, Mum, I think the best thing you can do is go home. I don't want you running up Daddy's credit card at that ridiculously expensive hotel and I don't want you having to fake sympathy for me when we both know this is what you wanted."

Lady Lloyd replied laughingly, "Katie, Daddy expects his credit card bill to be high. If I were to stop running it up, he would think I had dropped dead. And just because I didn't want you to marry that man doesn't mean that I don't care that you are hurting. You have always been strong willed and you've butted heads with your father and me through the years, but you are still our daughter and we both love you very much. However, I will honor your wishes and head home. I can probably switch my ticket to tonight's flight."

"I'll take you to Logan."

"No, I'll take a cab to the airport from the hotel. You know how I feel about those long airport goodbyes." She wrapped her arms around Katie and hugged her. "I love you, Daughter. If you need me, all you have to do is call."

"I love you, too, Mum. Safe travels. Kiss Daddy for me."

Denny and Alan had eaten lunch and were addressing Christmas cards in their home office. The senior Crane had made a practice of sending cards to current and former clients, in addition to his friends, years ago and his card list was very long and a veritable Who's Who of Boston elected officials and high society. When his name was still on the door of CP&S and his "Mad Cow" was slowly robbing him of his cognitive abilities, he had had secretaries to address all his envelopes; all he had to do was sign the scores of cards placed in front of him. When Alan had received the card list he requested, he was stunned to see how many names appeared. He had asked Denny if he wanted to hire a temp to handle the cards. "No," Denny had replied, "I couldn't do it before because I couldn't remember who half the people on the list were. Now with my new medication, I do, and I really want to do this."

Alan had simply nodded his head and said, "I'll help you." This was the third time in three days they were addressing cards.

Denny stretched and yawned while he took a quick break. "My hand is cramping," he said as he shook it vigorously. "How many more cards have to be done?"

Alan took a closer look at the list. "One hundred and two. I can't believe we've addressed more than three hundred. Next year, we're hiring a temp to do this."

"Next year? We need to hire someone to address the New Year's cards next week! I'm Denny Crane! Do you really think I've only had four hundred and fifty clients in a career that's spanned more than fifty years? These are just my clients that celebrate Christmas."

"What? That's it, I'm having Rodeo interview for a temp tomorrow and get a stamp made that says 'Denny and Alan Crane' and we'll be done with this."

"Do you want to call Paul Lewiston to ask him to send me my New Year's Day card list?"

Alan snorted, "I want to call Paul Lewiston and tell him to jump out of the window. Will that do?"

Denny laughed, "Fine, you brat, I'll call him." He started to say something else, but the ringing of Alan's cell interrupted.

Alan looked at the phone, opened it and said, "Jerry! What's happening?" His smile faded as he listened. "Are you sure that's what you want to do? Do you want me to come?"

Denny was listening intently to Alan's half of the conversation. He hated to admit it, but a part of him was still jealous of Alan's friendship with Jerry. I know I shouldn't be; after all, I'm Denny Crane! I'm the only man Alan will ever marry.

When Alan ended the call with an "I'm so sorry, Jerry" Denny looked at him expectantly. "Jerry decided to break off his engagement to Katie. He's pretty broken up about it, but he doesn't want to see me. He insisted he'll be fine once he gets back to work tomorrow."

"Well, if he says he's fine, he's fine." Spreading his arm over all the cards on their desks, Denny said, "Since we're getting a temp, we might as well leave this for her, too. Listen, now that there's not going to be a wedding, how about you and me heading out West to Vegas like we talked about last week?"

"Don't you think you're being a bit insensitive, Denny? Jerry might need a friend."

"If he needs a friend, he's got Clarence. He doesn't need you, too. What do you say, Alan? Christmas and New Year's in Lost Wages, Nevada? I heard there are new strip shows," he sing - songed.

Alan smiled in spite of himself. He really wants to go. "Sure, why not?"