The strange dream became a frequent night visitor in Cathy's life. The visions were neither clear nor were they strangely troublesome. The scenes existed subconsciously, as a new part of her life, with the understanding that someday they would help to connect her with the past. Cathy chose not to delve into detailed meanings. She was content to allow her own sense of self awareness to accept and interpret clues as they presented themselves. She was vigilant without exhibiting the social paranoia of her childhood. Tentative discussions with Jacob informed her that dreams often presaged knowledge or awareness. Beyond those few reassuring words, her husband was content not to take away her ability to experience the joy of discovery.

Cathy wondered what she would gain from identifying the swirling colours. Curiosity about dancing, as an interpretation of the movement, filtered through her mind. She loved to dance, had no idea where the desire or skill originated. What she knew of her mother did not fit with a musical background. Lena rarely sang more than one or two special tunes, hardly ever danced with wild abandon or truly enjoyed a moment of delight at a concert or show. Only a singular 1960's melody could lift her melancholia from time to time. Frederick, her biological father, added nothing of note to the gene pool, except his own brand of depression which never seemed to lift from his life.

During an earlier conversation with her mother-in-law, Catherine described an area of town where she had gone to find Lena after her first disappearance from the tunnel. Cathy walked those streets many times, as well as the location of the house where they lived, before moving to Florida. She saw only the familiar hollowness and struggle for survival, clearly evident in the dingy row houses and rundown buildings. Nothing connected with the liveliness of her vibrant dreams.

Giving up on the idea of a miraculous revelation, she focused her attention instead on the fast approaching wedding and the arrival of the families. Whatever inner turmoil lay at the heart of her search, she set it aside and first welcomed, with very few hitches, Terry's family, from Spain. Susana and Carl did an outstanding job, collecting and transporting the aunts, uncles and cousins from the airport to Patrick's estate in Saugerties. The Puerto Rican man was delighted to listen to his birth language spoken by someone from the land of his ancestors. Carl was able to include a mini tour of New York City's finest most famous monuments and sights, for the delighted visitors. Father and daughter remained in Saugerties overnight providing interpretation and helping the Zamora clan to settle in while waiting for the rest of the wedding party to arrive. Once he felt secure that his daughter could manage alone, Carl returned to New York, collecting the steady stream of friends or family who needed a ride.


Rob, who had taken time off to recover after the kidnapping, returned to the family ready and willing to engage in some lighthearted work. He had been badly shaken by the hostage taking episode in the tunnel. Post traumatic stress had been a part of his life for years. Ever since his army days when he drove tanks into mine fields in Iraq and Afghanistan, he endured troubling periods of time when memories returned to haunt him. Rob usually kept his own counsel, rarely discussing the inner turmoil. Jacob, sensing his anguish, encouraged the faithful veteran to take a mini vacation and seek help. At the time, a warm hug allowed Jacob to transfer some positive energy into Rob's body but Jacob was also down on his own resources and could not be of much help. When Rob returned to work the two men spent time together and Jacob completed his extraordinary ability to do neural realignment, dispensing with the possibility of a recurrence ever again.

'You put your life on the line for Cathy and me, Rob. It's the least I can do,' Jacob had said in response to the heartfelt thanks.

If Rob had any doubts about his ability to function or question his role in America's wars, he was completely disarmed by the band of men who comprised Jason's wedding party. In addition to little Vladimir, Jason, his father and step father, were accompanied by a group of special services police officers who worked within the DEA in Los Angeles. Jason was their commander on the job and friend in off hours. Lines were never blurred during working hours. Jason was admired and respected by his team. Those officers who could take time off, willingly made the trip to be groomsmen for their boss.

Jason shared the story of the kidnapping incident with his buddies. He spared no details about everyone else's heroism during the tunnel escapade while maintaining confidentiality about site. The men, after hearing about the bravery, welcomed Rob as one of them, curious about his transition from active duty to a civilian lifestyle which still offered challenges. The conversation was lively and respectful, boosting the ego of the soft spoken, caring man.

Rob carefully steered the large bus through Manhattan streets before dropping off Terry at the Brownstone. He headed north with his all male cargo, smiling at Terry's admonition to take care of her men. The vehicle was filled with rousing camaraderie, numerous stories and raucous laughter all the way to the ranch.

Rob would spend the night there before returning home in another bus the following day to collect the bride, Cathy, Jacob, Catherine, and Vincent and anyone else. In the meantime, Carl had returned one final time to escort Terry's Mexican family who arrived en mass via Southern California. With them was Marian, the head of the agency which provided both Terry and Sue's services to Catherine. She wanted to stay at the Brownstone and travel with the family. It was quite a magnificent reunion!


Marian was as excited as a girl by the turn of events which brought her to New York. In a world of couples, she remained unmarried, devoting her time and energy to creating an agency which promised and delivered excellent service. Adding Terry to the role of director in charge of patient care was a sound move which elevated the status of her work force immensely. The staff responded to the call to improve their skills, first with anger and resentment then with pride as Terry, leading by example, showed that attention to patient detail can work miracles. The story of Catherine's remarkable recovery was often used as an incentive. The painstaking details worked effectively to change stubborn minds. Those who didn't change were let go. Marian was edgy, forceful and often verbally inappropriate, but she managed her self-made business as well as any CEO. If there was any soft spot, Catherine's warm welcome found it and melted the heart, if only temporarily.

'I can't believe it's you Gina. You're like a living miracle.'

'Marian, try and remember, she's Catherine now.'

'I keep forgetting, Terry. When you talk about her back home, it doesn't seem like the same person and yet now that I see you…Catherine, ..I'm sorry,…. really you don't even look the same.' The hostess, herself overcome with emotion, halted the stumbling words with a hug of welcome.

'What I remember most about you Marian is your extraordinary hair.' Catherine mused, looking at its soft yellow waves, pulled back in a tight chignon. 'I think there was one day, before I could really speak well... you came to the house and it seemed so different. Something about the style and colour reminded me of Vincent but I couldn't quite say what I wanted. Really, I just hoped someone could make sense of my nonsense.'

'That someone was Terry. I have never met anyone like her for pushing the envelope.'

'I sure do agree with you Marian,' Sue chimed in. She had never stopped feeling guilty for her failure to see beyond 'Gina's' semi comatose state to the possibility of recovery.

'We all played a part in the recovery, including Catherine. Without her willingness to undergo the rigorous schedule I laid out, none of this would be possible,' Terry demurred wanting to avoid fanning the flames of guilt in anyone.

'I guess we're an extraordinary group of women!' Catherine added, knowing that it was indeed a group effort.

Everyone nodded and seconded the notion that ordinary women could achieve amazing results when they worked together. The consensus of opinion set the tone for the afternoon, allowing everyone to relax and support the bride to be. Despite last minute hitches, the atmosphere at the Brownstone was a respite from the previous weeks of the energetic rush of planning. Everyone needed to catch up on the events which would culminate in the wedding festivities soon to take place. There was lively conversation in every room in the house where the mostly middle aged group of women, talked like young girls about makeup, dresses, music, fun and numerous related topics. The men were clearly expendable. Vincent and Jacob steered clear of the excitement.

Forgotten in the activities was Erin and the extraordinary offer of a handmade dress for the bride. The party of women had just moved into the kitchen for a late meal when the front doorbell broke through the chatter. Vincent elected to answer it. To his astonishment, Erin stood at the door, a long plastic bag resting over her arm. She was accompanied by Holly.

'We have a delivery for the bride,' Holly sang out in her melodious voice.

'Come in, come in. I have been banished to the basement or backyard, but Catherine and Terry are in the kitchen.'

Everyone there turned to look down the hall at the women approaching. Erin had on her tunnel clothes and looked quite medieval. In absolute contrast, Holly wore jeans and a casual blouse, her usual dark wig covering the golden hair.

Terry stared at Erin with a curious look. She had not believed that a dress could be designed and stitched together in such a short time, although she gave Erin the benefit of doubt. Terry was willing to wear almost anything half decent but drew the line at taking her vows in something which neither looked appropriate nor fit well. Nothing about the dressmaker's demeanour invited confidence and Cathy had not been reassuring but, she smiled and waited for Erin to speak.

'Do ya want me to show it here or somewheres private?'

'Here please Erin.' Terry was suddenly nervous. She didn't want only her opinion to count.

The dress, resting on a hanger and wrapped in a non transparent garment carrier was hooked on to the knob of a cabinet door in the kitchen. The plastic rustled softly as Erin smooth out any creases before tugging on zipper. Everyone was quiet, attention focused on the slow downward slide of her hand. There was an anticipatory silence in the room as the descent reached the last tooth in the garment bag. It was gently opened to reveal a mass of white fluff which seemed to spill out of its confines. Everyone gasped in astonishment, but no one said anything, waiting, first of all, for a response from the bride.

Terry could not believe her eyes. Silence continued to fill the room as Erin slid the plastic bag off the shoulders and allowed it to fall away. The dress was a vision of perfection.

'Oh My God! ….Please forgive my blasphemy. I am….. Erin, how on earth did you do this?' Terry's question was rhetorical. It was obvious that a lot of time and talent had gone into the creation. Terry's eyes filled with tears and she hugged the woman clinging to her thinness. The sobs were real and came from the heart. No one was able to withstand a hug from Terry. Almost without thought, Erin's thin arms wrapped themselves around the sobbing woman. When Terry was able, she turned to look, once again, at the magnificent creation.

'Erin, you have captured both my heritage and my mother in one dress. It is almost a replica of my mother's wedding dress. She must be crying in heaven, thanking you with all her heart. I know I am. How can I ever thank you?'

'Wear it with a happy heart.'

After many compliments from the others, Erin insisted on a final fitting. Terry asked Catherine to share the moment. Everyone else stayed behind in the kitchen. Holly moved over to Cathy's side, pride in her face.

'She really outdid herself Holly.'

'I know. I had to help her out a little. She wanted it to be perfect.'

'Yeah, It sure is.'

'Listen Cathy, I am sorry if I seemed a little off hand the other day. When Erin made my dress it was pretty simple. I didn't think she could do this kind of intricate work and be successful. I owe you and her, an apology.'

'Not me. You were right to be skeptical. Who would believe that she was capable of this? She's made things for me and even I couldn't imagine this kind of …well, ... seeing is believing.' Cathy threw up her hands, at a loss for words.

'I am going to go ahead with the plan we discussed, Cathy. Let's get together and talk about it next week. I have a few other thoughts to share with you and…..the good news… that I'm pregnant.'

'Oh Holly. That's great news. I'm happy for you.' There was clear sincerity in the hazel eyes. Cathy meant what she said. She had lots of chances to observe Holly with Cilla and Mea. The young woman would make a good mother.'

The news deserved a hug. Holly, normally undemonstrative, held on to Cathy quite tightly.

'Are you ok Cathy?'

'Yes, sure. I've had some dreams lately but ….. why are you asking? Do you see something?'

'No. I just had a moment of awareness, a feeling that you were complete. Does that make sense to you?'

'I'm happier now and I feel more lighthearted than I did last month, if that's what you mean?'

'Yes. Maybe that's it. I haven't really hugged you since your recovery from the craziness in the tunnel.' Holly stepped back, a smile on her face. 'We'll get together soon. There's a lot to do.'

They went on to speak about a few other things, including the wish to have Cilla and Mea stay in Manhattan instead of going to Saugerties.

'It isn't that Erin wants to usurp Catherine in anyway. It would give Vincent and Catherine a chance to share some time alone. I know Mea is very attached to her but we will do our best to make her happy. I don't think Cilla will mind so much.'

'I'll let Mom know. I am sure she'll be fine with leaving them.'


'Erin, you have amazing talent. I have never been a bride before but this has to be the most beautiful dress I have ever seen.'

Erin acknowledged the compliment with a grunt. Her mouth was full of pins. The highly emotionally Hispanic woman had drawn unwilling tears from her eyes. She didn't want to cry. In her mind was the thought of two daughters, motherless in the world, one dead too soon. Who made their wedding dresses? Did they ever wear one?

'The bust is a little tight. I thought I had that measurement perfect.'

'I had just pumped my milk out when I came to you the first time. Right now, I'm full. It will be fine.'

Erin grunted again. She stood back and surveyed her work. The tears she had been struggling to hold back fell, unheeded. Catherine moved to her side and took the trembling hand.

'Are you thinking about your girls?'

A nod confirmed that the passage of time could not always lessen grief.

'My girls were taken from me. You are so much like my youngest. She was dark, a stormy creature destined to be trouble for somebody. She will be a fighter wherever she is.' Erin intoned the words and held on to the thought that at least one of her girls would do well. She found a smile for the beautiful woman in front of her. 'How are you wearing your hair?'

'In this dress? Flamenco style!'

'There's a matching flower in the bottom of the bag.'

'Is there anything you haven't thought of?'

'I hope not! I want your day to be perfect.'

Unasked, Terry moved forward and hugged Erin again. 'Forgive me for holding you like this. I sense that it is hard for you to accept this kind of thanks.' Terry released her hold but kept strong hands on the shoulders and stared directly into the misty pale eyes. 'I will wear this dress with pride, conscious of your loss and mine. For one moment on my wedding day, when everyone looks at me for the first time, I will be your daughter and you will be my mother.'


Not a single soul in the house, except for Vincent seemed to want to retire early. Excitement pushed sleep away and drew everyone in the house together, then apart for more intimate conversations, then back together again for snacks and drinks. Vincent, unused to the wholly adult feminine tenor of the house finally called a halt to the festivities. His wife was drooping, Terry looked frazzled and Cathy, who had been extremely busy the previous two weeks was ready to drop. Even Holly and Erin, who had stayed on for awhile, finally left.

'I think we all want to get an early start. I have no doubt that tomorrow will not be any more restful. We should get some sleep.'

Murmurs of assent followed the very practical announcement. Terry and Marian headed upstairs to share a room and everyone else settled. Even with her eyes half closed, Catherine could not resist a last conversation with her disconcerted husband.

'For a little while tonight I was transported back to my school days.'

'Is this behaviour today more like who you were then?'

'Yes. I suppose I was more like my old self.' Catherine paused wondering what prompted the question, born out of his observations. 'If you knew me then, would you still have fallen in love with me?'

'A better question Catherine is, would you have fallen in love with me?'

'I would like to say yes and mean it, but I don't know. I can't imagine not loving you. I also can't imagine that the same forces of nature which brought us together and held us bound to each other, would not have been at work even then. Our destiny is to be as we are now. Probably, the journey would have been different.'

'I am sure it would have been different, but I also wonder if I would have had the courage to love you when I was younger. My heart leaps in fear at the thought of even the slightest possibility of never knowing you. I hope that I could have found my strength in you then, even as I did when we met.'

'I will dream about that tonight. I love you now Vincent. It is really all that matters.'

'And I love you.'

The silence which fell over the house came quickly. Vincent had been right. Everyone was tired, but excitement lay beneath the calm surface. Everyone anticipated that the following two days were to be filled with joy shared at a once in a liftime event.