! Yes, that is how I felt when writing this chapter. Small wonder. It was very difficult and very and tricky, but VERY rewarding. Long story short (it's too late for that ;) enjoy!

"Alright," said Rosalind, placing her hands on her hips, "first the box with Batty's stuffed animals goes, then the one with Skye's soccer ball and Jane's books.

"Don't say goes," moaned Skye. "I'm starting to get upset."

Jane sniffed. "Me too! Why can't we stay longer, Daddy?" She gazed beseechingly at her father, who was settled comfortably in a wicker chair in the tiny living room.

"I'm sorry, Jane-O. Being on vacation takes more work than you'd imagine. And I believe Ben is getting a bit homesick."

The ginger haired little boy nodded.

Batty put her arm around him in a sideways hug. "Cheer up," she chided. "We have a whole more month of summer!"

Skye grumbled from her spread-eagled position on the floor. "I hate leaving. Everything's all wrong."

Jane brightened. "On a happier note, I have thought of a new idea for a novel. But I can't tell any of you until it's out of its literary cocoon—"

"Jane, you just may be the weirdest sister every known to humankind." Skye winked, uncharacteristically. "And that's coming from right here." She patted her heart.

Jane stuck her tongue out. "At least I don't occupy my days reading about dark matter. Yawn!"

"At least I don't spend my days writing about stupid mat-"

"Enough!" Rosalind hollered over both sisters. Their father looked extremely amused. "For the love of everything good and pure in this world, would everyone please shut up?"

"Sorry," giggled Skye. Her mood had improved significantly.

"Skye, Jane, go put the boxes in the car—I'll go have a look around to make sure we haven't left anything."

Once Skye and Jane had dispersed, Jeffrey appeared. "Hey Rosalind."

"Hello! If you're looking for Skye or Jane, you have bad timing."

"As a matter of fact, I am." Jeffrey arched his brow. "Where are they?"

"Check out by the car. I told them to start loading boxes." She sighed, feeing melancholy herself. At least she'd soon be seeing Tommy.

"Thanks!" Spinning on his heel, Jeffrey tugged Batty's curls fondly and was gone.

Jane and Skye were currently battling over space in the already cramped car trunk. "Ouch, you're squishing my wrist!" Jane complained.

"Well, stop trying to jam that suitcase in the corner. It'll never fit!"

"Yes it will! All we have to do is move this box over—yow!" Jane had dropped the box of books on her toes.

Appearing out of nowhere, Jeffrey lifted the box and neatly placed in the car. He inspected Jane's foot for serious damage. Seeing none, he grinned. "You're good to go."

Jane beamed. "He's very gallant, isn't he?"

Skye smirked.

"Oh, Skye, would you mind coming over to help me move the piano? Hoover keeps getting stuck between it and the wall."

"Absolutely," said Skye.

Jane frowned. "What am I, chopped liver?"

"Of course not! But where would we be without Skye's legendary bicep brawn?

"I see. Well, good luck!" Waving, Jane went back to stacking luggage, hobbling a bit as she did so.

In the red cottage, Jeffrey set to work, yanking and pulling the gap-toothed instrument as if his life depended on it. Skye, who was less adept at yanking, occasionally bumped into a stack of sheet music, sending the papers flying. After several tense minutes of work, they collapsed on the piano bench.

"Whew," breathed Skye, mopping her forehead.

"You said it." Jeffrey rested his fingers on the keys and plunked out a faint melody.

"What's that? Did you make it up?"

No, I didn't make it up! I composed it."

"Same difference."

"I really wish you'd try to learn to play the piano."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"Then you could add piano-playing to the long list of things you're good at."

"Like what?" Skye raised an eyebrow in friendly challenge.

"Soccer, astronomy, astrophysics, archery, being courageous, being an OAP… Yeah," he concluded."

Skye was silent. She was aware of the five inches separating her from Jeffrey, aware of the fact that he had stopped playing, and was staring at her—more color in his face than before.

"More than anything," he said softly, "you're good at being your own kind of beautiful."

This was the last thing either of them said before they leaned toward each other, quite in sync. It is hard to go into shock when kissing someone, but that is exactly how Skye felt. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest, her face burned (though it wasn't unpleasant) and she was slightly taken aback by her own urge not to stop.

And even through all this, Jeffrey kept kissing her, his hair brushing her forehead. After a small eternity, Skye pulled away reluctantly, opening her eyes to see him staring back, his eyes bright. "Guess what?" he asked.

"What?"

"You can go ahead and add this to that list of things you're amazing at."

The elusive kiss has occurred! What do you think? This story isn't over yet.

-Spark Writer-