"If nothing saves us from death, at least love should save us from life" ~Pablo Neruda.

Stephanie went back to reading her pregnancy book once the ultrasound had confirmed a healthy baby, and she was reading it as we sat in first class on our way to Miami. The book had a section that described what was happening each week in the pregnancy, and she was reading about what was going on in week fourteen.

"I'm officially in the second trimester as of this week," Stephanie reported. "And our baby is able to make some facial expressions like frowning and squinting. And it can pee now."

I raised an eyebrow. "That's good to know. Our baby is floating around in its own urine."

"It is three-and-a-half inches long and weighs an ounce-and-a-half. That's a big growth in two weeks," Stephanie said, ignoring my sarcasm. "That's probably why my belly is showing a little now."

It had seemed to happy overnight, but Stephanie's belly was now slightly more defined. If you didn't know her, you wouldn't suspect anything. Even those who knew her but didn't know she was pregnant might just think she'd put on a few pounds. I'd been enjoying running my hand down her abdomen and feeling the slight bulge over the past week.

Stephanie closed the book and turned to face me. "We both know that the most important thing is a healthy baby, so we don't have to say it. What are you hoping for– a boy or a girl?"

"Girl," I said immediately. I'd known I'd wanted a girl since the moment Stephanie had told me she was pregnant the second time. I'd had another questioning thought about whether I might be trying to relive the early Julie years with another baby, but decided it wasn't important.

"Really?" Stephanie asked, looking surprised. "Why do you want a girl?"

"I like girls," I commented. "I grew up with four sisters who drove me nuts, but I adored them. My mother and grandmothers were the ones who had taken care of me the most when I was a kid. I have a daughter already, so I know a little of what to expect."

"But you work with all men. I thought you might want a boy. Especially when you already have so many women in your personal life."

I shrugged. "I like the definition of having my personal life dominated by women and my professional dominated by men. It helps me separate those parts of my life from each other. Men are less emotional, and are going to do the job I ask of them with little to no questioning. Women worry, and they care what is happening to everyone on a deeper level. Women love you differently. Men tend to walk away, but women usually stay and fight it out. And it starts out that way from the time they are little."

I saw the corners of Stephanie's mouth twitch.

"What?"

She put an arm around my shoulders and kissed my cheek. "You're adorable."

"Babe."

"I'm serious. I think you want a little girl because you want to be her hero. You want her to give you those big, sad eyes and say 'Daddy, help me please'. Then you can go in and save the day and be her hero," Stephanie's smile grew wider. "But you do know that girls like to play with dolls and have tea parties, right? There's no getting out of that. Even my dad had to play Barbies and tea parties on occasion."

"Not all girls are into tea parties and Barbies," I told her. "That's sexist."

"I'm sexist?" Stephanie said incredulously. "You're the one wanting to be a savior to a little woman."

"I never said that. You did. And you're wrong."

The look Stephanie gave me said she thought I was full of shit. "Liar."

"What do you want?" I asked.

"A boy," she replied. "They are less emotional than girls, you don't have to deal with PMS when they get older, and you only have to worry about what their penis is doing. With girls, you have to worry about what all of the penises are doing and if they are doing it to her."

I stared at her for a moment before responding. "People probably assume I'm a sexist pig because I'm Latino and was in the military, but it turns out I married the sexist pig instead."

Stephanie's jaw dropped and she punched me in the arm. "I am not a sexist pig!"

I began counting points off on my fingers. "You assume I want a girl because I want to be a hero to her. You assume that boys can't be as emotional or more than girls. You assume all girls want to play tea parties and Barbies, and that if I had a daughter I wouldn't be comfortable playing those with her. And you assume that the worry about what a boy is doing with his penis is less when you have the boy. That's pretty sexist, babe."

Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest. "I bet you have a response for all of those points."

"I already explained why I want a girl, and I wouldn't have an issue playing whatever game she wanted. I'm secure enough in my masculinity to know that I can be a man and have a tea party with my daughter. Growing up, my brother and I were the emotional ones. We were the ones yelling, getting into fights with other kids and our parents, slamming doors, and causing other problems. My sisters all had their moments, but for the most part they were all level-headed and more mature. And when it came to penises, it was definitely Emilio and me who were kept on the shortest leashes. My parents trusted my sisters more, even though Silvia screwed around as much as Emilio and I did."

I slid an arm around her. "Besides, I know some little girls tend to fall down and scrape their knees and jump off the garage roof pretending they are Wonder Woman."

Stephanie's lips twitched. "That's true. I have a feeling any child of ours is either going to rule the world or burn it to the ground."

Traffic was heavy as we made our way from the airport to the Rangeman building, making it almost one o'clock before we finally arrived in the apartment. We unpacked our suitcases and had just started a conversation about lunch when my phone rang. It was Rachel.

"Are you in Miami yet?" she asked.

"We just got to the apartment. Why?"

"We need to talk to you. We're about ten minutes from your building. Can we stop by?"

I was immediately on alert. Rachel and Ron had never come to my apartment in Miami. I'd always come to them.

"Sure. I'll tell the front desk to send you up."

I disconnected and relayed the information to the front desk.

"Rachel and Ron are stopping by in a few minutes," I told Stephanie.

"Why?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. I have a bad feeling about it. They've never come here before. Never asked."

A knot formed in my stomach while I waited for the knock on the door. Rachel's tone hadn't been excited. It had been flat, a little detached. Serious.

When I opened the door to her and Ron a few minutes later, I saw that both of their expressions matched her tone. I showed them to the living room where Stephanie was already seated.

"What's going on?" I asked once they had taken seats next to each other on the couch. I watched as Rachel's eyes filled with tears as she looked over at Ron. In an odd move, he reached over to touch her with his right hand, even though she was sitting on his left side.

"I can't," she whispered to him.

"It's okay," he murmured. He turned to look at me and I felt my chest tighten. I knew what he was getting ready to tell me. I'd been dreading this for the past ten years, hoping that I'd never have to hear those words from them again.

"The tumor is back," he said. "We found out last week, and we immediately had the scans sent to Dr. Maurer. He consulted with my oncologist here, and we just left his office. It's truly inoperable this time, and I can't do radiation again because it's in the same spot."

I blew out the breath I'd been holding and rubbed a hand over my hair. "Damn it."

Rachel was crying softly, her face buried in her hands, and Stephanie was looking confused and concerned.

"The doctor gave me four months," Ron continued. "But he said only two of them are going to be decent. I'm already having some symptoms. I've had three seizures in the past month, I have a constant headache, I'm starting to lose some use of my left arm, and I've been losing my temper lately."

"So it's a brain tumor?" Stephanie asked. I nodded.

"He had one about ten years, but was able to have surgery for it."

"I always knew there was a chance it could come back," Ron said. "I'd prepared myself in case it did."

"How can you be so calm about this?" Rachel asked him. "How can you sit here and talk about being prepared to hear that you're dying?"

"Baby, I've had ten years that I'd been told I wouldn't have," he replied. He turned back to me, and I could see the emotion in his eyes.

"I owe the last ten years to you. If you hadn't found Dr. Maurer and paid for me to have the surgery, I'd have missed out on Tony's birth. We wouldn't have had Michael. I wouldn't have seen Julie and Olivia grow up. Julie would have been the only one to have had any memory of me, and it wouldn't have been much. She was only six."

"I had to do it," I told him. "You're Julie's father, and I had to do what I could to help you. For her. And because I think you're an okay guy."

Ron chuckled lightly. "Well I'm glad you don't think I'm a son of a bitch. But I got ten more years, and I can't ever repay you for that. I hate that I don't have more time with Michael, for him to remember me, and for us to do things together, but I can make videos, write letters for him to have as he gets older. The other kids have good memories to hold onto. I'm not afraid to die, and I'm going to make sure that I get what I can out of the last few months I have left."

Stephanie started to cry. She reached for a box of tissues and took one before passing the box to Rachel.

"Is there anything I can do to help you guys?" I asked.

Ron looked over at Rachel, who nodded as she wiped her eyes. "We're fine, financially. We have some savings. I have life insurance. The house has insurance to pay it off when I die. We don't have any credit card debt. I have disability insurance to cover us day-to-day until I die, then Rachel and the kids can get survivor benefits from Social Security. But there is one thing you can do. You can take back your legal rights to Julie once I die."

I didn't try to suppress the look of shock that crossed my face. "Why?" I asked after a minute. "You've been her legal father almost her entire life. Why change that when you die?"

"When you consented for me to adopt Julie, you told me that you knew it was best because you couldn't be the kind of father that you wanted for her at that point in your life. You said you wanted the best for her, for her to be happy," he said. "I hope I've been a good father to her. I've tried my best. In the years since the kidnapping, you've gotten closer to her. She loves you as much as she loves me. I know that. I was there for the early years, but I won't be here much longer. I won't get to see her graduate high school or pick a college," Ron's voice broke as he continued. "I won't get to walk her the aisle or play with her children, but you will. And I want you to do those things not just as her biological father, but as her legal father as well. She's going to be living with you soon, and you'll get to the day-to-day thing with her. You trusted her to me when you didn't think you could be there for her. This is me asking you to step back into that spot when I'm no longer here."

I felt tears prick my eyes, and I put my head in my hands for a second. "Jesus Christ, Ron," I said. I pulled myself together and straightened back up again. "What if Julie doesn't want this? I'm not going to force something on her that she has no interest in, even if it's what you want."

"I think she will,' Ron said. "It may come as a surprise at first, but I'll explain it all to her. And I've already looked into the legal process. You would have to file an adoption petition, but because she is over the age of twelve Florida law says she has to sign a consent form for the adoption to happen. It is ultimately up to her, but I'm hoping she'll do this for me."

"Do you want this, Rachel?" I asked. I waited for a response while she blew her nose.

"Part of me doesn't. I know it's not because of you, but because of the idea of losing Ron," she said. "He mentioned this to me when we first found out the tumor was back last week, and explained it to me the same way he did to you. I understand it, and I don't want him to worry about what's happening when—when—when he's no longer here."

I glanced over at Stephanie. Her expression told me that she was behind me all the way.

"Then if it's what Julie wants, I'll do it," I said.

"Thank you," Ron said. "We're going to tell the kids tonight, and we'll talk to Julie about this as well. We still want you to come over on Saturday so we can talk about the plans to get Julie moved up to New Jersey."

"Do you really think she's going to want to come up to Trenton if she knows she only has a few months left with you?" I asked. "I can't see it."

"She's going to Chesterton," he replied, determination evident in his tone. "I want this for her. Besides, she won't be coming up until the end of December. I'll probably be in bad shape by that point. It'll spare her from having to see me get so bad towards the end."

Rachel and I exchanged a brief look. Julie was going to fight him hard on this.

They left a few minutes later so that they could get home before the children got out of school. My plan for the day had been to spend a few hours in the office before taking Stephanie out to dinner at my favorite restaurant, but now I felt sick. I wanted to beat the shit out of something, then stay locked up in the apartment for the rest of the week.

Stephanie followed me into the kitchen and watched as I pulled a glass and a bottle of tequila out of a cabinet. I poured myself a drink and tossed it back, the liquid burning my throat as it went down. I felt her arms wrap around my waist.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I can't imagine what this is like for you."

"He is Julie's father, and it's going to devastate her to lose him. I wish there was something I could to help them."

"You said you'd take your rights back by adopting Julie. I think that's the best thing you could do for Ron, and for Julie," Stephanie said. "Ron was right. Julie loves you, and even though she's going to be hurting I think she'll want this too."

I shook my head. "I don't, and I'm not going to try to talk her into it. I know I could never replace him, but it feels like I'm trying. Or that he's trying to replace himself."

Stephanie took the tequila bottle and poured more liquid into the glass. For a millisecond I thought she was pouring the drink for herself. I was about to open my mouth to ask her what the hell she was doing when she handed the glass to me.

"Have one more drink, then go down to your office and work. I think you need something to distract you right now."

I took her advice and spent the next few hours in my office, reviewing reports and working on personnel evaluations. Stephanie was working from the office in the apartment since she didn't have office space in Miami. When I finally quit at six-thirty, I went upstairs to find that she'd ordered meals from the restaurant we'd planned to go to that evening and was putting them on plates. I was grateful that she knew me and what I needed after day like this. I made love to her that night and laid awake to watch her sleep after we were done. I'd faced my own mortality numerous times over the years, certain that I wouldn't come out of a situation alive. I'd made my peace with God, hoped my family knew how much I loved them, and went head long into whatever situation I was facing, always astounded when I came out alive. Ron wasn't a man used to facing those types of situations. He'd faced it once, but this time he knew there was no hope. No way out.

It seemed as though I'd just fallen asleep when the apartment phone rang. I glanced at the clock as I reached for the receiver. It was a little after two in the morning.

"There's a girl here who says she's your daughter," Tyler Johnson said when I answered.

"Send her up," I said, jumping out of bed as soon as I hung up. I hurried into the closet and pulled on a t-shirt and running shorts.

"What's going on?" Stephanie asked groggily as I came back into the bedroom.

"Julie's here. She's on her way up."

I could hear the elevator ding as I walked towards the door, my hand on the knob when I heard a knock.

Julie was standing in the foyer dressed in black cotton shorts, flip-flops, and a purple t-shirt with the word Aruba written in pink. She had a small tan purse slung over her shoulder, her hair pulled up in a ponytail. She was five foot four, and while her features were mine, her body was Rachel's. A fact that had Ron and me debating whether to send her away to a convent until she was thirty or just kill all of the teenage boys within a hundred miles. But tonight she looked younger than usual, her brown eyes swollen and red from crying.

I stood aside to let her in and closed the door behind her. I had barely turned around when she threw her arms around me and started to sob. I held her close and breathed in the scent of coconut shampoo until she calmed down. I saw Stephanie standing outside the door to the bedroom, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts.

"Let's go sit in the living room," I said, guiding Julie through the apartment. She stopped to hug Stephanie, and they walked together to the living room.

"How did you get here? Do your Mom and Dad know you're here?" I asked. Julie shook her head.

"I walked down to the bus stop after they went to sleep."

Good God.

Stephanie stood. "I'll call them and let them know where you are," she said, rubbing my arm as she passed.

I took the seat next to Julie, who was staring blankly at the coffee table.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

She shook her head and more tears fell. "I can't believe it. It doesn't seem real. I can kind of remember when he was sick when I was little, but I didn't know it was so bad. I just remember him being gone for a while."

"You were too young to know the full story."

"He wants me to still go to Chesterton," she said after a couple of minutes. "I told him that I didn't want to go now, but he got mad and yelled at me, told me I was going and that was final. He's never yelled at me like that before."

"It's the tumor. It can affect his mood."

"That's what Mom said. He apologized later and cried. He said he wants to see me follow my dream while he can. He told me he wants you to do adopt me back after he dies," she said, looking over at me for the first time since she'd walked in the door.

"He asked me today, but I told him it has to be your choice. I'm not going to try to talk you into it, Julie. Even if it's what he wants."

She nodded. "He told me why he wants it. I told him that you can't replace him, but that I'd be okay with it. After I got kidnapped and you saved me, I used to do research online to see if there was any way that you could adopt me back so I could have three legal parents, but there wasn't. Dad knew that I had done that. He said he'd seen where I had done the searches when he would do random checks on what we'd been looking at on the internet. That's why he knew I'd be okay with this."

She blew out a shaky breath. "It isn't fair. Why does he have to die? Aren't there plenty of awful people in the world who could die instead?"

I didn't respond. I knew she needed to talk, to vent her feelings without someone telling her not to think or feel a certain way.

"He said that by the time I leave to come up to New Jersey he'll be pretty sick, so I won't have to see him so bad off. He said we can talk on the phone or Skype every day until he can't talk anymore. But it's not the same as seeing him in person."

"Would it help if I flew you down here every weekend?" I asked. She whipped her head up to look at me.

"Really?"

"You could fly out Friday after school and head back Sunday night in time for school on Monday. Then you can talk on the phone or computer the rest of the week."

"I'd like that," she replied quietly. "And even though he says he doesn't want me to see him so sick, I think he'd like it."

Stephanie came back into the room holding a pillow from the bed and a blanket. I suspected she'd been waiting for a lull in the conversation.

"Julie, I called your mom and told her you were here. I said you could sleep here, and we'd bring you home in the morning. She told me you weren't planning to go to school tomorrow so we don't have to have you back early," she said. "But she wasn't very happy that you left in the middle of the night and took a bus across the city."

"Yeah, I know. It was stupid," Julie admitted.

"We'll deal with it all tomorrow," I told her. "You should try to get some sleep."

Julie and I left the apartment around eight the next morning. She'd managed a little sleep on the couch and had eaten breakfast before we'd left. She didn't say anything as we drove through the city, but let out a heavy sigh as we pulled into her parents' driveway.

"I'm going to be in so much trouble," she said.

"Let's go face the music," I said, climbing out of the car.

We were halfway up the walk when the front door opened and Rachel walked out. Julie was tensed, ready to be yelled at, and was surprised when Rachel pulled her into a hug. Ron walked out behind them and put a hand on Julie's back. She turned to hug him and he kissed the top of her head. I followed them inside the house, where Tony sat in the living staring mindlessly at the television while Olivia was curled in a chair holding her cat, her eyes red from crying. Young Michael was chasing the family dog around and laughing, unaware of how his life would change in a few months' time.

We all sat down at the kitchen table, which was littered with remnants of breakfast.

"Honey, you shouldn't have left last night," Ron said. "If you wanted to see Ranger, you could have said something. We would have taken you."

Julie shrugged. "I didn't plan it."

"I'm sorry I yelled you last night," Ron said. "I just don't want you to give up Chesterton. You've worked so hard to get there."

"I know," Julie said. "We talked about it last night." She looked to me to finish the rest.

"I told Julie that I would fly her down here every weekend. She can leave after school Fridays and come back Sunday evenings. I can make sure someone is able to get her to and from the airport so you don't have to do it," I said. Rachel's expression was one of gratitude, but Ron's was frustrated.

"You don't need to do that," Ron said. "She doesn't need to see me like that."

"What about the other kids?" I asked. "They'll be here. They'll see you."

Rachel gave me a that's what I've been saying look that Ron couldn't see.

Ron couldn't come up with a rebuttal. "That's a lot of money, and time spent travelling. She could be spending that time with her friends or doing homework."

"There are plenty of nonstop flights from Newark to Miami. She can do school work on the plane. She needs to spend this time with you, Ron. Her friends can wait."

Ron walked with me out to the car twenty minutes later. The family was spending the day together until Rachel's parents came over later in the afternoon.

"Thank you for doing this," Ron said. "You're right. She needs this."

"You both do," I said. "And I want you to tell me if there is anything else I can for you. I'm serious, Ron. And I want you to know that I'll always look for Rachel and the kids. You've been a terrific father to Julie, and I can't ever repay you for that, but I can try by making sure that your family is taken care of. I guess in an odd way, you all are my family too."

Ron reached out to shake my hand and his lips started to twitch before he burst into laughter. "Did you ever imagine that a one-night stand could lead to all of this?"

"Not for a second," I replied. "But I don't regret it."