Lydia went back downstairs and found Vivian's room again. The woman was leaning back against an assortment of soft white pillows now, and Jimmy was holding her hand and singing softly to her.

"A good old country Christmas, that's what it's gonna be
With all the family gathered round, our pretty Christmas tree
We'll open up our presents Christmas Eve about midnight
We'll have a good old country Christmas, alright"

The content smiles on Vivian and Jimmy's faces knew no strained relationship, no passage of time. They only knew love and acceptance.

"You'll have to bring your guitar with you next time," Vivian said softly.

"Of course I will," said Jimmy. "And Bob, too."

Vivian's smile widened. "Great heavens above, Bob is still around?"

"He's a bitter, grumpy old man now," said Jimmy. "But he's doing alright. He travels with me everywhere."

"Does your girlfriend like him?" asked Vivian.

"Lydia's not my girlfriend. But, yeah. They tolerate each other."

Vivian laughed, a sweet, low, musical laugh that widened her heavy eyes just enough for her to notice Lydia standing in the doorway.

"Come on in, dear," she said. Jimmy glanced up in surprise and saw Lydia. "Don't be shy."

Lydia entered the room. Jimmy politely introduced the two women, and Vivian insisted on giving the younger woman a hug and thanking her for keeping Jimmy company on the drive over. Lydia offered to go out and find them something to eat.

"Actually, we should get going," said Jimmy. "I'm sure Lydia wants to be back in Nashville tonight, and I'll need to drop her off at home before heading back to my place to pack my things."

"I see. You'll be coming back down here for Christmas?"

"I'll be coming back down here for the rest of your life," said Jimmy.

"You don't have to do that," Vivian started to say. "I…"

"I can't lose you without saying goodbye, Mama," Jimmy insisted. "Not again."

Vivian relented. "Okay."

She gave her son a long hug goodbye. After that, Jimmy and Lydia turned around to head home. Some singer they'd never heard of before reminded them that Christmas was a terrible time to have no one to turn to and nowhere to run home to.

"It could have been me."

Jimmy turned his head and glanced at Lydia when he heard her break the stunned silence they'd been maintaining since the last gas station they'd stopped at.

"What do you mean?"

"Frankie told me that the reason he's retarded is because he was born with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. We're twins, Jimmy. If things had gone differently, my brother would be back in Nashville playing Lacrosse with Harvey Winchester, and I'd be playing Candyland with the nurse who tells me when it's okay to use the bathroom."

"You got lucky," said Jimmy softly. "Most people do."

He held Lydia's hand for the next bit of the drive. She leaned back and watched the untouched acres of open land go by to the tune of Loretta Lynn reminding them that she was proud to be a coal miner's daughter.

It was perhaps the most country song that Lydia had ever heard. Content, tune, twang, and all.

And she didn't hate it.

Lydia's eager little feet swung over the side of Daddy's warm, dependable lap. Mommy was in the kitchen singing while the bread baked in the oven and she stirred the stew pot on the stove. She'd offered to help with dinner, but Daddy had taken her out of the room and told her he wanted to read to her for a little while. His gentle voice moved over the words that he'd read to his Lyddiebug time and again.

"'I wonder if I've been changed in the night?" Daddy read. "Let me think: was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?'"

Lydia looked over at Jimmy. His sunken eyes glazed over the sign that said "You are now entering Tennessee." He was lost in thought, as they both had been for the vast majority of the drive up here.

Soon, snowflakes dotted the Nashville skyline. Jimmy began strategically making his was around the bulk of the city's rush hour traffic.

"So, when do you think you'll be going back to North Carolina?" asked Lydia.

"Tomorrow morning, first thing."

A few minutes went by. Johnny Cash serenaded them with a song about a funeral. Lydia wiped a tear from her cheek that she hadn't seen coming. She glanced back up at Jimmy and then quickly looked away before he noticed. Then she opened up her purse and pulled out a notepad and a pencil. On it, she wrote down her full name and address. Then, throwing all caution to the wind, she added a note at the bottom and signed it with her first name and a heart.

They turned the corner onto Lydia's street. The first thing Lydia noticed upon arriving in front of her house was that both of her parents' cars were out front.

"Damnit," mumbled Lydia. "My dad's home, too."

"Do you want me to walk in with you?" Jimmy offered. "You helped me deal with my parents. It's only fair that I help you deal with yours too."

"Thanks," said Lydia. "But I think that this is something I should do alone."

"I understand."

Jimmy got out of the truck long enough to help Lydia remove her suitcase from the truck and help her get it up on the curb.

"Good luck, Princess."

"Thanks," said Lydia. "You too."

Lydia wasn't sure why she said that, because it wasn't as if she had anything in particular to wish him luck for. The worst of his holiday was already over.

Jimmy held out his hand for Lydia to shake. She reached out a shaking hand to return the gesture. After a few seconds of keeping his sweaty palm clenched her hers, Lydia took a deep breath and shoved the folded-up note she'd just written into Jimmy's jean jacket pocket. Then she moved to turn back to the house, hesitated, turned around, and pressed her lips to Jimmy James's. Lydia held on until she felt like her heart might explode from the contact, then grabbed her suitcase and ran inside, disappearing as quickly as a snowflake melting away.

The engine of Jimmy's truck sputtered just as Lydia closed the front door behind her. She could already hear her parents' raised voices. Sigh. Of course they were fighting again. After a moment, though, the accusations stopped flying. Both Mom and Daddy came out from the kitchen to find Lydia standing there with her red suitcase in one hand, her handbag on the opposite arm, and a stone-faced expression they weren't sure they'd ever seen on her before.

Mom's expression was almost as hard as Lydia's with a hint of relief. Daddy's was the exact opposite. After a few seconds of Lydia staring them both down needlessly, Daddy cleared his throat.

"Lydia, dear," he said. "Care to explain to us where you've been? Because the note that you left on your vanity stating that you 'had something to take care of' was not sufficient justification for disappearing for nearly forty-eight hours."

"Nothing much," said Lydia flippantly as she tossed her handbag from one shoulder to the other. "I just went down to North Carolina to visit my brother, and then on the way back I got some bagels at Kaufman's." Lydia didn't let the satisfaction that she felt creeping up show in her expression as her mother's jaw dropped and the color drained from her father's face. "I would have brought you some, but I didn't know that Daddy was back in town yet, and I know that Mom likes English Muffins better anyway. Did you know that they make flavored cream cheese now? It's pretty delicious."

Daddy turned to Mom.

"You told her?"

Lydia cut in before Mom had a chance to answer the question, although Mom did manage to slip in a befuddled expression.

"Oh, no, nobody told me anything about Frankie. In fact, I still wouldn't know he exists if I hadn't been looking for the phone book in your study and happened upon the tin where you keep all the letters that Mom writes to him."

"What?"

Lydia whipped around to face her mother. "Yeah. They were all in there, Mom. He's never gotten a single one."

Mom turned to face Daddy, shock replacing anger on her face.

"He lives in an institution, by the way," Lydia continued. "He's lived there for nearly ten years, you know, ever since Auntie died and Frankie was locked up without any consideration for the fact that there were people in the outside world who actually care about him."

Mom and Daddy were both looking up at Lydia with similar, white faces now. Mom's lip trembled. Lydia looked her Daddy in the eye.

"I guess you just assumed that because you couldn't love him the way he is meant that nobody else could either."

"Lydia…" Daddy stepped forward. "You have to understand, Frankie's not like us. And you were just a little girl. I didn't want you to grow up thinking that this was how children were supposed to be."

"Don't you dare put this on me!" Lydia shouted. "I was three years old when you took away the only brother I'll ever have and told me that he was a dream and I'd made him up. I never would have asked you to do that. You had a son, you decided that he wasn't good enough, and you gave him away. It's as simple as that."

Daddy let out a sigh but didn't say anything. A glare began to form on his face-although he, unlike Lydia, still seemed more agitated than angry.

"And you," Lydia turned to Mom. "What was your problem?"

"I…I beg your pardon?" Mom faltered.

"Daddy gave you Frankie's address. You knew exactly where he was. And yet you never went to see for yourself."

"What was your mother supposed to do, Lydia?" Daddy interjected. "You know how long ago I had the boy moved."

That was the first time that Lydia remembered her father ever having come to her mother's defense. Mom noticed this, too, and shot her husband a look of contempt. Lydia addressed her next statement directly towards her mother anyway.

"There were so many times when you could have gone after him, Mom. Daddy's not even home half the time, you could have made up an excuse and sent me to Donna's house for a few days. Nobody would have been the wiser. All those hours you spend raising money to feed the homeless and buy toys and presents for sick children at the hospital, and yet you couldn't even do anything to help your own son? What kind of a so-called philanthropist are you?"

Unlike Daddy, Mom had nothing to say in her own defense. She just looked at the ground and hid her face, both in shame and because she thought that no one could see the tears dripping down her cheeks that way.

"Bottom line, you guys took my brother away and I'm never going to forgive either of you. Merry Christmas."

Lydia grabbed her belongings and went upstairs, leaving her parents to pick up the pieces of their broken home.