Brooke stood in the middle of Chucky's kitchen in stunned, disbelief. This infuriating, frustrating, aggravating, annoying, young man was her birth son. How- -

The stove beeped.

Chucky jumped up out of his seat and pressed some buttons on the stove, silencing it. He grabbed his hat and walked out the kitchen. "Let's go, if you're going," he said over his shoulder, never slowing his pace.

His words put her into action. She quickly ran to catch up with him.

He opened the door to his pick-up which had definitely seen better days.

She had barely shut the door when the truck reared off, at a speed she would have thought impossible by the look of it.

Well they shouldn't have played that good

I got carried away and let the music go to my head

Well she shouldn't have worn that dress

The way it curled around when she was spinning

Just killed me dead

The blonde gentleman, who had declared himself her son, sang along loudly and off key to the country song as he pumped up the volume, beating his hands on the steering wheel.

My heart began to tell my body and my soul

That it had gotten in the mood to lose control

Oh no, when did neon light turn into moon glow

When did that jukebox turn to a rainbow

I'm about to give into this urge

One more slow dance with her arms around me

One more long glance and nothing will slow me down

I got no chance, if I'm not in love I'm on the verge

Brooke stared at him in the light, the full moon provided. Was he truly the child she had given up for adoption all those years ago? Now looking at him with new eyes, she could see his resemblance not to just to her and Ridge, but to all their family. He had her nose, but Ridge's mouth. She was pretty sure those were Eric's ears, Stephanie's forehead, her Nana Henderson's chin, her mom's cheekbones, Bridget's eyes. Or rather Bridget had his eyes. He definitely had the Douglas attitude of superiority down pat. Yes, this was the infant in the hospital that she refused to look at after he was born, for fear she would fall madly in love with him on sight. But due to a mix up at the nurse's station, she did see him and spent a few minutes alone with him until an embarrassed nurse came back to retrieve him. In those few minutes, she had tried to study his features so intently but through the drugs and the tears it was difficult to tell who he looked like or burn his tiny features into her brain.

There were so many things she wanted to ask him, to tell him. She never thought he would look for her. Never imagined this moment. She had prayed and hoped for it, but never imagined it would actually happened. She was riding in a dilapidated truck with her first born son. A grin spread across her face. This was one of the best days of her life. After all the heartache and turmoil of these past few months, it was nice to have this precious surprise thrown into her lap. All she wanted to do was look at him and enjoy it.

The truck came to a stop in front of another farm house and Chucky jumped out without a word. Pondering whether she would get out or not, the sounds of children screaming stopped her.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Voices rang out in the still night.

She was a grandmother again. The girl and boy appeared to be older than Little Eric.

Chucky dropped to his knees and threw open his arms. Capturing the delighted duo and kissing them everywhere, she sighed at the scene in front of her. With a nod of his hat to the older woman standing in the doorway, he got to his feet and carried the two squirming children back to the truck.

The kids climbed in and happily sat next to her.

"Hi," they said in unison.

"Hello," she greeted the two, finally seeing them clearly. The little boy, obviously the older of the two, was a handsome little boy around four or five with olive hued skin. And the adorable, burnt sienna skinned little girl was about three.

Her son climbed into the truck and slammed the door behind him as he revved it up and took off. "Guys, this is your Grandma, I was telling you about."

"Hi, Grandma. I'm Michael. I'm 4. But you can call me, Mikey."

"Hi, Mikey," she smiled, with her tears streaming down her face.

"I'm Annika. I 3."

"Hi, Annika."

"It's Annie, like the movie," Mikey corrected.

Shaking her head furiously with barrettes swinging dangerously, Annika corrected her brother. "Uh-uh, it's Annika, right, Daddy?"

"Right, Sunset."

Annika stuck her tongue out at her brother.

"Annika, put that tongue back in your mouth, before I take it," her father quickly warned.

The stuck out tongue disappeared.

Brooke kept her smile to herself. How she remembered these days with Ric and Bridget. Before she knew it they were back at Chucky's house.

The kids followed her out and both held her hands and escorted her inside the house. When they reached the living room, they let go of her hand and quickly kissed the picture of two brunettes, whom she assumed were her son's parents. Then they took her hands again and pulled her into the kitchen.

"Daddy, can we have a snack since you found Grandma?" Mikey asked, with his sister nodding in agreement.

"Didn't Mrs. Fjelstad give you dessert?"

"But you found Grandma," Annika chimed in.

"Yeah," Brooke added.

"Fine," he caved. "One piece of chocolate cake after you put on your pjs, turn down your beds, and put your backpacks up."

As soon as he finished issuing orders, the pre-schoolers took off.

Brooke took a seat as he pulled the chocolate cake out of the cake dish.

"Michael Peter was adopted from Cambodia when he was 8½ months. Annika Ruth was adopted from Liberia at 7 months," Chucky informed her.

She nodded, still unable to talk to her son. Her son. She couldn't get over that.

"It's a lot to take in, huh?"

She nodded again.

"You'll get use to it. It just takes some time. The kids are going to love having their own Grandma at their beck and call. Are you close to Little Eric?"

She nodded again.

"It's- -"

"Daddy, we're ready," Mikey declared, dressed in his blue and white striped footie pajamas.

"Yeah, we're ready," Annika repeated, dressed in her pink and purple flowered footie pajamas.

"Well, pull up a seat pard'ners and get ready for some milk and chocolate," he announced with a twangy accent.

As the chocolate cake and milk were passed around, Brooke realized this was the first time she had seen her son truly smile and enjoy himself. The obnoxious, condescending man had been replaced by a loving, gentle, funny man whom warmed her heart.