"How's the patient?" Gwen asked.

"Marta's soup was a hit. He finished off the whole bowl." Diane announced as she placed a large tray on the kitchen counter. "They're in Sam's room now watching a movie together."

"How's the nursemaid then? You've done a week's worth of step-aerobics going up and down those stairs today."

"What?" Diane brushed a stray hair from her face. "Oh, no, I'm fine."

"Well, I think you deserve a little break." She pulled a bottle of wine from the chiller. "What do you say we take advantage of that view for a while?"

"That sounds wonderful."

They stretched out on the same pair of chaise lounges on the veranda. The air was cooler than it had been that morning and the breeze relaxed her almost instantly.

"It's too bad the whole world doesn't have a view like this."

"Isn't that the truth." Diane agreed. "Is this your first time over here?"

"On Rhodes? Yes. But my late husband and I vacationed in Athens years ago. I fell in love with everything Greek. We only came the one time though."

"How long ago did you lose your husband? If you don't mind my asking, I mean."

"Oh I don't mind. He's been gone almost five years now. Ironically, he was taken by the same cancer as Coach."

"Really? My goodness. I am truly sorry for your loss. From what I understand it's a very aggressive type of cancer. And for you to have the strength to willinging experience this heartache a second time, well, I commend your bravery."

"I think it's helped me to help Sam, having gone through the same thing, you know. I wouldn't have survived without the love and support from my family and friends. I'm glad I can give something back to Sam and Joss."

"He's told me many times that you've been his saving grace through everything."

"Well, I try to be there when he needs me and stay out of his way when he doesn't. That was Coach's number one rule. Know your place, Gwen, he said."

"You know, I've been meaning to ask you...how did you and Coach meet?"

"Actually, we were all on the same cruise about a year and a half ago. I was on a girls trip with my sisters and he was there with Sam and Joss. One night he asked me to dance and we were thick as thieves from that point on."

"So you were pretty close then?" Diane hinted.

"We were close, but just friends. It was never romantic."

"Well, it's obvious that he saw something very special in you - something the rest of now see too." She smiled warmly.

They sipped their wine and moved on to other topics. Beach reads. Travel. Her grandchildren. At one point she retrieved her phone and shared several pictures of a beautiful brother-sister duo.

"These are my daughter's children. You met her at the reception. Caleb is twelve. Cassidy is nine," she said proudly.

"Gwen, they're gorgeous." She studied the image for a moment. "How nice to have them all with you in Boston. Are they your only grandchildren?"

"No. My son Kevin has a seventeen year old boy. Joshua. They live in the Atlanta area. He owns a landscape architecture firm there. I don't think I have any recent photos of him." She swiped her screen with a frown. "He reminds me a lot of Sam actuall - my son, I mean. He's a single dad too, raising a son by himself."

"Well, I know you're extremely proud and you have every reason to be. You have a very beautiful family."

"They're pretty special."

The conversation quieted as Gwen turned her face back toward the water. Diane took advantage of the moment and closed her eyes...but the silence didn't last long.

"You never had any children?" Gwen pried.

The final rays of light off the water were suddenly replaced by a stark hospital room, as Diane's mind jumped back in time. The memory was still fresh...and cut like a dull knife.

"Mother?" she whispered.

"She'll be right back. I'm here, darling, and you're going to be alright." He gently brushed her hair back off her forehead.

"Can we...go...home now?" Her words were slow as she spoke with a heavy tongue.

"Not yet. Dr. O'Connell said in a day or two."

"But I want to..."

"Shhh. Please don't try to talk. Just close those beautiful eyes of yours and rest." He gave her hand a tender squeeze.

"Is...the baby...alright?" Her voice trailed off as she bounced in and out of consciousness.

"Diane?" she said again.

"Uh, no." She shook her head. "No children."

"And your fiancé? Does he have kids?"

"Uh, no. He was married before too, but they never had children."

"Oh, I see," Gwen said with a nod.

Diane sensed there was more coming. The obvious question she felt the woman was dying to ask. She closed her eyes once more and waited, ready for whatever query she made. What happened between the two of you? Why the divorce? You seem so perfect for one another, what with the witty banter and all. She knew them all, they'd been asked so many times before.

"You would have been a wonderful mother, if you don't mind me saying so."

"Well thank you." Diane smiled, touched and somewhat surprised by this comment.

"And I'm not the only one who thinks so." Gwen winked.

"Really? Do tell."

"A little bird told me all about a certain, special birthday wish."

Diane laughed. "What did this little bird say, exactly?"

"Evidently, this little bird is concerned that you don't have any children of your own. And he also pointed out that he doesn't have a real mom, so he's thinking that maybe you two could fill these voids for each other."

"What?" Diane smiled widely. "He said that to you?"

"The truth? He asked me if my feelings would be hurt if I moved out and you moved in." The woman grinned.

"He didn't." Diane laughed.

"He most certainly did." Gwen gave a nod. "He's got some big ideas about you, so just be warned."

"He talked about his mother last night when I tucked him in." Diane recalled their conversation. "I must admit I'm rather intrigued by the fact that he calls her by her first name."

"Ah yes..." Gwen sighed. "Silvia. I've noticed that too."

"Have you met Joss's mother?" Diane asked, her inquisitive nature showing.

"No. But Coach told me all about her."

"Sam mentioned that Coach wasn't a big fan."

"You know Coach. Sweetest soul on planet earth. Coach got along with everyone, but she was a different story. He couldn't understand why she didn't want to be in Joss's life. You know how Coach felt about his Lisa. He have given anything to have more time with her. It pained him that Silvia could be satisfied with a week here and there."

"After spending time with him, I've been wondering the same thing myself."

"Well, the bottom line is that some women just aren't cut out to be mothers. Obviously, Silvia is one of those women."

"Silvia is one of what women?" Sam strolled onto the veranda, interrupting their girl talk.

"The kind who doesn't know a good thing when she sees it." Gwen said to him matter-of-factly.

"Amen to that." Sam gave her a wink.

"How's Joss?" Diane asked.

"Asleep." Sam sat down on the end of her chaise. "I think he's down for the count."

"And the fever?" Gwen inquired.

"I think he's over it."

"Thank goodness." Diane sighed with relief.

"Sam, can I get you anything? Club soda or iced tea? It'll be awhile before Marta starts dinner." Gwen asked.

"Actually, there's an errand I'd like to run. And I'd like you to go with me, if you feel like it." He turned to his ex-wife.

"Of course," she answered.

"I just got off the phone with Khristos. He can take us out tomorrow afternoon. I thought we might run into town and pick out a wreath. You know, to take with us when we..."

"Aw Sam, I think that's a lovely idea." Diane gave a nod of approval.

He eyed his watch. "If we leave now we can be back in time for dinner."

"Well don't rush. Joss isn't eating obviously. That leaves just me. And there's plenty left over from last night. In fact, if you want to grab a bite while you're out, that would be fine with me," Gwen suggested.

"We could do that." He looked to Diane, trying to gauge her response. "Diane, what do you think?"

"I say we go where the wind takes us," she motioned with a flourish of her hand.

"It would be a waste for Marta to make another big meal. We're stockpiled from last night. And neither of you have set foot outside today. Take a break. Go stretch your legs and knock around town for a bit. I can handle sick bay," Gwen added.

"You sure?" he asked her.

"You two have earned an evening out and a little grown-ups only time."

#

They found a parking spot on a side street just around the corner from a tiny flower shop. The main square was full of bodies, locals and tourists gearing up for the evening hours. They had no time to spare before shopkeepers closed their doors for the night. As luck had it, they made it into the floral shop just two minutes before closing. A brief explanation of what was needed was given to the store owner. He agreed to have a wreath delivered to the dock the following day. Sam reached into his pocket for a his wallet but Diane pushed his arm away.

"Sam, please allow me. You've done so much already and I'd really like to get this for Coach."

"Okay," he consented without argument.

With the task complete, they set out on foot in search of a quiet restaurant. They strolled by quaint shops, most now closed for the day. They did stumble across a corner market, still bustling with business. They darted inside to soak up a minute's worth of free air conditioning. Diane spied a beautiful wooden ship, hand carved and bearing a tiny canvas sail.

"I know a certain someone who would love this." She picked it up.

"And it would be kindling wood in about two minutes flat." Sam informed her.

"No it wouldn't. I've seen how he is with his things. He's not like some kids, hell bent to destroy everything in their path. Joss takes good care of his toys."

"No, I guess you're right. He does take pretty good care of his stuff."

"I really want to get this for him, Sam."

"Diane, he's got a stack of toys and games back at the villa that a circus dog couldn't jump over."

"He doesn't have one of these." She inspected the boat from every angle, impressed with its elaborate detail. "And he's going to be so sad tomorrow when he finds out we're going out on a boat without him."

"So a boat for us and a boat for him, is that it?"

"Exactly."

"Give it here." He sighed and held his hand out. "I'll get it."

"No." She pulled it back protectively. "This is a gift from me. I'll get it."

"You already took care of the wreath."

"Don't worry, you'll get your chance." She smiled. "Dinner's on you."

Long lines and too much noise kept them walking for several blocks in search of a suitable restaurant. After a chat with one of the locals, a tiny alley behind a seafood market led them to a quiet, out-of-the-way cafe. They were seated immediately and Sam ordered a glass of wine-one he knew was her favorite-and a Pellegrino for himself.

"You remembered?" She smiled.

"How could I forget? You downed almost an entire bottle by yourself that one night when we were at that resort on Maui."

"Oh. Right." She felt her face start to blush. "You're never going to let me live that one down, are you, Sam?"

"C'mon." He teased. "We've all been there. Don't look so embarrassed."

"Why would I be embarrassed? I don't recall a sign that said No dancing on the tables."

"For the record, you weren't on the table. You were standing on your chair, doing the hula and leading the whole bar in a rousing chorus of Tiny Bubbles."

She looked away, fighting to bite back a grin. "And do you know what makes that entire scene so pathetic?"

"What?" he asked with a chuckle.

"The fact that you let me."

He looked into her eyes. "Diane, if there's one thing I've learned in my fifty-something years, it's that you can't stop a determined woman from doing anything."

Though his eyes said otherwise, she couldn't help but wonder if his comment had a darker, underlying meaning.

"And if she's had a drop too much of the grape?" She kept the mood light.

"Three words." He grinned and raised his glass. "Duck and cover."

Their conversation flowed and for a while they forgot everything, Coach and illness, and focused on the lively tales of their past. She couldn't remember a time when she'd laughed more.

Sam Malone, you are still the world's greatest storyteller.

"You know, I noticed something. Phillip and Phoebe went to a lot of the same places we did."

"And we're back to your royalties once again." She rolled her eyes.

"But they never came here, to Greece." He continued. "Why?"

"It's funny you should mention that." She ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass. "I did have a book planned, what would have been the fourth and final book of the series, but it never happened."

"Why not?"

"I went back to work."

"And opened your design firm in Charleston?"

"How did you know about my firm?"

"Ran across a spread about you in magazine one day while I was sitting at the dentist waiting to have my teeth cleaned."

"Did you?"

"I may have even smuggled the copy out in my jacket."

"Sam Malone, you did not!" She grinned.

"I didn't steal it." He insisted, his blue eyes shining. "I borrowed it...for an extended period of time."

She shook her head and took another sip of wine.

"So when did you close up shop for Cornell?"

"Three years ago."

"When you met Les?"

"Les and I met four years ago, but only moved up to Ithaca when he became president of the university. It's the only Ivy League college with a design school, so we thought, why not?"

"Interior design, huh?" He smirked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she questioned.

"Oh nothing, nothing. I'm just surprised, that's all. Why not Judeo-Christian French poets of nineteenth century Russia or something like that?"

She shot him a look. "While not outside my wheelhouse, I happen to love what I do and I happen to be damn good at it."

"Oh god, I remember decorating our place. All the endless discussions about this sofa or those drapes. You drove me crazy, you know that, right?"

"I will admit that at times I was rather conflicted, but what you didn't understand-" she started to defend herself.

"Conflicted?" he interrupted with a laugh. "Diane, you were downright insane. You changed the painting over our fireplace no less than twenty-five times and repainted the dining room just as many. How did you ever manage to satisfy your clients when you couldn't make decisions for your own home?"

"Well it's easy. The game changes when you're spending someone else's money." She winked.

"You really enjoy it, don't you?"

"I finally found the creative outlet that suits me best. When I formed my design firm in Charleston, I was respected and in demand and busy. Those were things I needed at that time in my life. Then I met Les. It was his idea that I give teaching a go. It made sense in an ironic sort of way. I've spent so much of my life in college lecture halls. I started teaching and well, I just fell in love with my students."

"I'm sure your students are crazy about you too." His husky voice took on a serious tone. "I mean, how could they not be?"

Diane reached for her wine glass once more, her heart skipping along at a furious pace. They sat quietly for a bit, the first real uncomfortable moment of the evening. Thankfully the waiter appeared, with offers of dessert and Ouzo. Diane shook her head, unwilling to commit to either. Sam asked for the check and in minutes they were back on the street.

Their animated chatter remained at the restaurant and they walked in silence for a while. Diane caught her breath several times, seeing their reflection in dark store windows. It was surreal to be back on the island where it truly started for them. Even the passage of time couldn't undermine the fact that, side by side, they were an incredibly striking couple. It was almost comical, she thought, the number of strangers who broke out with huge smiles when they walked by. It had always been that way. There was a sort of magic about them...and it lingered even now.

"Hey listen, Diane, I have a small confession to make," Sam spoke.

"What's that?" she asked.

"I passed on dessert because I'm holding out for another piece of Joss's birthday cake when we get back." He clapped his together in anticipation.

"I'll slice and serve if you'll pour the milk," she offered.

"Done," he confirmed.

They were just a few streets from the car when they began to get swallowed up into a large crowd. Lights and loud techno music blaring from a club on the corner shattered their quiet evening. Bodies darted around them and instinctively Sam reached for her hand. With a firm grip he lead her through the mob, shouting just to be heard.

"They're playing our song." Sam hollered. "What do you say?" He motioned toward the door of the club.

"I don't know, Sam. It's after nine." She yelled, checking her watch. "Maybe we should go back. He might be running fever again and -"

"And Gwen would have called me if there was a problem." Sam smiled. "But you're right, we should probably head back."

As the crowd thinned, he loosened his grip and eventually released her hand. It was just a gesture of protection. She knew he would have done the same if it had been Gwen there with him. So why was her heart suddenly working overtime again?

Easy conversation continued on the ride back. Yet, every topic seemed to somehow find it's way back to Joss. Diane balanced the box containing the wooden ship on her lap, eager to see his face.

"Do you think Gwen is still up?" she asked.

"I doubt it. She's not much of a night owl. Of course, Joss could be wide awake and raring to go, fully recovered. He may have forced her to walk the plank by now."

"You think those action figures I got him will fit inside this?" She held the boat up once more.

"You know, I'm gonna have to pull rank on you here." Sam glanced and caught her eye.

"Okay," she said warily.

"You've gotta hide that 'til in the morning. If he's awake and sees it, then it's all over. He'll want to jump right in the pool with it. Or the bathtub at least. I'm not up for a splash fest at this hour."

"How about I leave it in the car until the morning?" she suggested.

"That sounds like a good plan."

They drove on along the coastline. The wind had picked up and she watched the whitecaps out the window. She moved her head back and forth, the pain still present despite several glasses of wine.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"Something wrong with your neck?"

"Oh, I just slept wrong I guess." She rubbed the back of her neck.

"It's called sleeping in the same bed with a six year old. Does it every time. What time did you bail out?"

"A little before six."

"I made it till five. I thought about waking you up, but the two of you looked so peaceful."

"He's an angel, Sam," she said, thinking back to the wink he gave her, the glow of his birthday candles highlighting his face.

"He sure is," he agreed.

The villa was dark when they pulled up. He parked around back and they entered the house via the veranda doors. Only the lamps in the living room remained lit. Sam spied the cake on the large island along with two small plates and two forks, just waiting for them.

"Gwen knows me too well."

"She certainly does." Diane ran her fingers along her sore neck once more.

"If you'll do the honors, I'll go up and check on Joss."

"Give him a hug for me," she said with a smile.

He disappeared upstairs and she went to work. When he made it back down, just a few minutes later, she had cake and milk ready.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"He and Gwen are crashed out in my bed."

"I guess he's okay then."

"He's fine." He reassured her. "Here, I brought you these." He held out two small blue pills. "For your neck."

"Thank you." She took them from his hand.

"In here or outside?" He picked up the plates.

"It's such a nice night, I vote outside."

She followed him out and took her same chaise. Sam sat down across from her, happy to stretch out and listen to the surf.

"Gwen is some fabulous baker," Sam remarked after the first bite.

"Gwen is some fabulous everything."

"Hey, what were you two talking about earlier? She said something about Silvia, and not knowing a good thing?"

"Last night when I was up with Joss, he was talking about his mom. Only he called her Silvia."

"Yeah, about that..." He put his fork down. "I know I should probably do something about that, but he doesn't want to call her mom or mommy or momma or any variation thereof. I've tried to get him to. I guess he's always heard me and Coach call her Silvia and he just followed suit."

"He told me it was because Silvia is not really like a mom. And that she takes him to big parties and fancy dinners and lets him drive her car."

"Oh God." He shook his head. Diane could see the disgust in his eyes. "You know, Joss has been with me exclusively since he was two years old. He doesn't really know her. Not like that. She's a friend to him. They have a great time when they're together but it's more like camp. And for Silvia, he's more of an accessory than a son."

"Oh Sam..." Diane's heart broke at hearing more of the truth.

"She and her brothers lived in and out of boarding schools. They were raised by nannies. She never had a real relationship with her mother, so it's no wonder she doesn't know how to take care of Joss. She parents the way she was parented. As much as I try to remind myself of that fact, it doesn't make it any easier or make me less angry."

"I can only imagine how difficult it's been for you to play a double role. But Sam, you have done an amazing job with him. Amazing. That little boy has so much love and respect for himself and others. And you - you've lead by example and you've created one special young man."

"When Silvia and I got married, I knew my time for kids had come and gone. I just wish he'd come into the world under different circumstance and not the way he did." He looked away, but not before she caught the painful expression on his face.

"So things were already bad then?" she questioned.

"I'd already filed for divorce. We were just waiting on a court date." He paused and took a deep breath. "Of course, she'd moved out of the house by this time. She hated Boston. Anyway, one afternoon, she stopped by the house to pick up a couple of things she'd left. A dress. A coat. I don't remember exactly. I came home and had no idea she was even there. We talked for a while. It was surprisingly civil. We even laughed a few times. I guess because the pressure was off, hell I don't know. One thing led to another, as the old saying goes and before I realized it, I was waking up beside her in our bed." He let out a heavy sigh.

"Oh." Diane nodded, moved that he trusted her enough to share the most private details of his life with another woman. "She was still your wife, Sam. You were still legally bound to one another."

"Legally is really the only way we were ever bound." He watched the waves for a minute. "It's not a story I'm proud of. The end result, however, is what I focus on. I got Joss. That's all I think about."

The same quiet that found them at the restaurant returned. She didn't fight it, but took a cue from him and turned her attention out to the sea. Wave after wave rolled in, turning the sands of the world over and over again. Had she made other choices in her life, would she and Sam be sitting together now?

"Diane?" he whispered softly after several minutes of silence.

"Yes?" Her eyes connected with his.

"Does it ever bother you that...you know...well, I'm not talking about us specifically...but what I'm trying to say is that...do you ever regret not having children?"

She observed the tender expression in his eyes-that same look that caused her to fall and fall hard.

"I have a lot of regrets but I've always believed that everything happens for a reason. That includes children given and children taken away."

"What do you mean?" He detected sadness in her voice.

"I lost a child," she whispered.

"What? When was this?" He sat up, swinging his legs in front of him.

"A few years ago." She sighed. "A miscarriage."

"You and Les?" he asked.

She nodded. "Evidently miracles do happen, even for women in their forties." She tried to smile. "I was sick for days. Les thought I had the flu. But I knew." She looked away. "Deep down, I knew."

"What happened?" he asked with genuine interest.

"We'd gone to stay with his parents for a long weekend. I will still in my first trimester. Les and I went riding early one morning-his father was an accomplished equestrian in the seventies and eighties, thus they have dozens of first rate horses. Anyway, I was on a new mare his father had just purchased. She was a little skittish and the ground was wet. A flock of dove flew out from behind this fallen tree. The horse got spooked and down I went. The next thing I know I'm waking up in the hospital. "

"Oh God, Diane, you could have been seriously injured. Paralyzed even." His face showed true concern.

"I've fallen from horses dozens of times over the course of my life, back in the show jumping days of my teens." She sighed heavily. "I learned that middle aged women don't hop back up quite as quickly."

"But you could have died." His voice echoed with disbelief.

"I was very lucky, I know that." She twisted her ring around her finger. "The doctor said the fall didn't cause the miscarriage. Said that it was just a coincidence and that my age was more to blame."

She paused a moment and shook her head.

"What?" Sam searched her face for meaning.

"You want to know the irony of the whole thing? When I initially found out I was pregnant, my first thought was to end it. I actually went to a clinic. Filled out all the paperwork. I still can't believe I did it." She fought to keep herself composed. "It's not a story I'm proud of." She borrowed his line.

"But you didn't go through with it."

"No, I didn't." She sighed. "I sat inside this little waiting room, hiding behind my sunglasses and praying I didn't see anyone I knew. I can still see the faces of the young girls around me. Oh Sam, they were terrified. Here I was, old enough to be their mother and just as scared. I remember this one young girl. She came in with her parents. She couldn't have been more than fifteen. Sixteen maybe. She was absolutely beautiful. She cried for the longest time, begging her father to let her have the baby. But he just sat on the chair beside her and said nothing. It made me physically sick. I mean here I was, an educated woman in my forties. I had everything to offer a child - a home and the financial means and a man who I knew would be happy. And looking around at those young girls with nothing, I realized that I would be making the biggest mistake of my life. I got up and walked out and told God I was sorry."

"So it was just fear? Fear of doing all this at your age?" He still struggled, trying to make sense of it all.

"Honestly?" Her eyes were fixed on his. "At that time, I didn't know if I cared for Les enough to raise a child with him."

Come on...don't make me beg.