Rating: K for all audiences.

Author's notes: No action (some action?), mostly character and plotting in this chapter. Also, a couple of gratuitous, sideways glancing references to the much beloved Firefly. Action (and gnashing of demon possessed teeth!) is coming in . . . two chapters-ish? Also, thank you very much for the reviews, favorites, and follows. (And for your patience!)


Abbie is introduced to the Ellerby clan, and it is with joy and welcome that she is received. Uncles, aunts, a sister and her husband, nieces and nephews, and Jacob's grandmother sit on blankets under trees next to the stream. The banter between men and women is light and easy, the children are polite and playful, and everyone seems to genuinely enjoy being in one another's company.

Abbie is eating her second hamburger—an indulgence!—when a game begins. The family splits into two teams, and a large blanket is suspended between them. Abbie watches, and in front of Grandmother Ellerby but behind the blanket, a commotion takes place. The blanket is lowered, and in front of Jacob's grandmother, there are four shoes buried in the dirt, with their tops sticking up.

Abbie watches as one by one, the members of Abbie's team line up in front of Grandmother Ellerby to take their turn playing the game. As the other members of Grandmother Ellerby's team sing songs, the person playing the game points at a shoe filled with dirt. Each time, Grandmother Ellerby shakes her head, picks up and empties the shoe, the blanket is resuspended, and the next round begins.

Both Jacob and Abbie get in line. In front of her, Jacob takes his turn. "Well, Shimásání?"

"Yes, Sitsoi?"

"I think today will be the day. I will finally choose the shoe with the ball in it," declares Jacob.

"Nila, my dear." Grandmother Ellerby motions to the shoes. "The time for talk is past."

Jacob strokes his chin and looks thoughtfully at the shoes. He picks the second shoe from his left. "That one, Shimásání."

Grandmother Ellerby smiles. "I'm sorry, Sitsoi. Today is a beautiful day, but it is not the day that you will beat me at the shoe game." She picks up the shoe from the dirt and turns out nothing but empty air.

Jacob laughs raucously, and his family chuckle in response. "Ten years since I started playing this game. We do this every winter, and I've never gotten this right." Jacob turns to grin at Abby. "I hope you have better luck," he says as he moves to the back of the line.

"I hope so too," Abbie says. Finally, last among her team, Abbie faces Grandmother Ellerby.

For the first time, Abbie looks, really looks at Jacob's grandmother. She is short, with kind, dark, eyes and tanned skin. Her grey hair is swept back from her face, which is open, but knowing, and bears an inquisitive expression.

"Abbie," Grandmother Ellerby acknowledges the Lieutenant.

"Mrs. Ellerby," Abbie responds coolly. She watches the Ellerby matriarch for her tells—a small tick, a smile, a microexpression of worry, anything. Instead, the inquisitive expression intensifies.

"Doli, please. Everyone calls me Doli," she says.

"Thank you, Doli." Abbie examines the dirt filled shoe tops in front of her. "So, I pick one, and if it has the ball, my team gets the point, right?"

Doli nods. "Right. Each side goes, and the team with the most points wins."

"But it's equal chance, right?" Abbie reasons. "One in four chance, five people per team. Each team will probably get a point a piece."

"That's right, Abbie," agrees Doli.

"Then equal chance of each team winning. Unless . . . you can figure out the tell of the hider." Abbie tilts her head at the singers around Doli. "The songs? They're distraction, right?"

"Yes," Doli admits. Her eyes begin to dance with interest. "They also are lessons about honesty, and trusting your instinct. Finding truth and being true to yourself."

Abbie nods and watches Doli. Abbie seeks truth in the matriarch's face, but her amused expression gives nothing away. Knowing that she won't find an answer there, she looks down and sees a slight pull of Doli's left hand toward her stomach. Abbie feels her gut clench, and she ventures what she thinks is a 50/50 guess.

Abbie points to the shoe in the middle on Doli's left. "That shoe. The ball is in the third shoe."

Doli's face remains amused as she picks up the shoe from the dirt and shakes it. At first, nothing comes out. After a few seconds, a small green ball emerges from the shoe and rolls onto the grass.

"One point for our guest, Abbie," announces Doli.

Abbie grins, and Jacob pats her on the back. "How'd you do that, Abbie? No one ever gets a point from Doli."

Doli lifts her eyebrow in curiosity.

Abbie smiles enigmatically. "I trusted my gut. Found the truth." She leans in closer to Doli and whispers. "Your left hand's your tell."

"It always has been. I'm working on it. Don't tell anyone." Doli laughs quietly. "You have quite the pair of eyes, Abbie. A pair of eagle eyes, I think."

"That's what I was always told, that I got two things from my mom—a voice that can carry a tune, and a pair of good eyes," agrees Abbie with a laugh.

Doli laughs again and takes one of Abbie's hands in hers. "Abbie. Atsa Biyaazh. Daughter of the eagles. You are welcome here."

"Thank you, Doli," Abbie says as she shakes her hand. Jacob escorts Abbie to the back to her team, where she is met with high fives and congratulations.

"I think she likes you," whispers Jacob into her ear.

Abbie receives everyone's happy congratulations. For once, she feels the warmth and inclusion of being a part of a family, and though the feeling is foreign, it is welcome.

"I think I like everyone," agrees Abbie.


A few more rounds, and the game ends, the only point being scored belonging to Abbie and her team. In her honor, the Ellerbys award Abbie a colorful knitted hat, which Abbie accepts with some embarrassment and a surprising amount of pride.

The children disperse and play in the river. The adults gather around the picnic blankets and chat as they watch over the children.

"Ah, to be young again. To be free, and to have all of your life in front of you again," sighs Doli.

"You have given us so much, Doli, and you have done so much for all of us," says an aunt.

"You left your home and made a new one, here, in New York," offers an uncle.

"And you took me in, when I had no one to turn to," agrees Jacob.

"My children, my children's children, and my children's children's children are all around me. How lucky I am indeed," agrees Doli.

The family quiets, but Abbie is curious. "Grandmother Ellerby. Doli. If I can ask, how did you do it? How did you make a life with all of this?" she says as she gestures to the pasture, the river, and the family gathered around her.

"Love, Atsa Biyaazh. And the courage to keep going." Doli's gaze becomes thoughtful. "After the war, my husband and I came here for his schooling, and we settled here. To make ends meet while he took his classes, I knitted and sold our wool. Blankets, hats, sweaters, anything I could make to make ends meet. When he graduated, in business, we turned my craft into a way of life." She pulls her fingers together, a reflexive response to the memories she thinks of. "We bought a sheep for wool. One sheep turned to two, to three, and soon we had a heard of sheep and a community of people to knit. We sell our blankets now in the city and on the internet." She gestures to the people around them. "It was hard sometimes, but we saved money. Fed our children. Sent them to school. And now, they come back to have families of their own."

"That's amazing, Doli," agrees Abbie.

"And it runs in the family," says one of the uncles. "Johona followed the same path, went to school for business, and now helps Doli run the business in the city."

"And Jacy went to school to become a doctor," volunteers an aunt about her husband.

"My children are happy, so I am happy," agrees Doli. "And what about you, Abbie?"

"Oh, you know. Still working. Still figuring things out."

"Do you like what you're doing?" asks Doli.

"I get to help people, so yes, Doli, I do," agrees Abby.

"And who is you family? Who are the ones close to you?"

"I have a sister, but we're not close. Haven't been for awhile, but I think that's changing." Abbie thinks about this. "A mentor, but he . . . died a few months ago." Abbie is quiet. "Some colleagues at work. A partner. My partner. I guess, right now, he probably knows me better than anyone."

A shift from her right reminds her that Jacob is listening. Abbie turns to him. "And what about you?" she asks. "How did you get here?"

Jacob smiles and tucks a strand of hair behind Abbie's ear. "Nothing exciting. My mother is Doli's eldest daughter. She and dad raised us back in Arizona. I was in college when a scout saw one of my games, and . . . " he shrugs. "I moved here, lived with Doli. Things turned out okay, so I stayed."

"That was very brave of you, to move here, all the way from Arizona," observes Abbie.

"Well, if I hadn't I'd probably be a teacher in Arizona. That's what I went to school for, when I wasn't playing ball." Jacob nudges Abbie. "What about you?"

"What about me?" asks Abbie.

"If you didn't come here. Or if you didn't become a cop, where would you be, and what would you be doing?"

Abbie smiles. "Well, I'm from here, so I'd probably still be here. But, if I wasn't a cop?" Abbie shrugs. "I can't imagine not being a cop. But if I could be a cop and something else? I think I'd like to be a singer."

"A singer?" asks Jacob with surprise.

"Yeah. A gospel singer. My mother made us recite verses, Bible verses, when we were young. Made us memorize them. The only way I could remember them is if I could sing them, put them to music." Abbie shrugs. "I never really liked memorizing the verses, but after awhile, I liked singing the songs. They were the same as the bible verses, but they made you feel things—happy. Sad. Despair. Joy. I liked that because it made the words feel real to me. Like they mattered."

Doli nods her head. "I feel the same. When I was a girl, I would knit and learn knitting, but I always wanted to be with the boys, learning our sacred songs."

One of the aunts smiled and placed her hand over Doli's. "I know the story, mother. That's how you got your nickname, Doli, because she sang like a bluebird."

"That was a long time ago," said Doli.

"Will you sing for us, grandmother?" asks Jacob. His voice is low, gentle, and coaxing, and the smile he gives her is hopeful.

"Ah, Sitsoi. I can never say no to you," says Doli.

Jacob's aunt and uncle, Johona and Jacy, move to sit next to their mother. Jacy unpacks a large, black object, and unzips the bag to reveal a guitar. Together, Johona, Jacy, and Doli prepare themselves to sing.

Jacob sits close to Abbie and places an arm around her shoulders. "Hey. Thanks for today," he says into her ear. His voice is low, but bright, and Abbie feels pleasurable warmth flush her skin.

"Thank you for today, Jacob. I'm having a nice time," Abbie says.

"I know a date is usually movie and a dinner, or a bar, or coffee or something, but if you want to get to know me, this . . . this is it. This is me," he says as he gestures to his family.

"Then thanks. Thanks for letting me get to know you better." Abbie leans in and gives him a quick kiss on his cheek. "This is so . . ."

"Nice? Not boring, I hope?"

"Real. This is so real," Abbie says incredulously.

"And something you'd want to do again?" he asks hopefully. Jacob takes her hand in his and gives it a squeeze.

Abbie feels a wariness rise inside of her, and her only answer is to squeeze his hand in return.


The rest of the date passes, and after an hour of songs and sunset, the children tire, the parents gather their families, and the family Ellerby breaks apart for the evening.

"That's it. That's the end of Sheep is Life for 2014," explains Jacob. "We have the actual festival in Arizona every year, and when I moved here, it was something I really missed. So Doli put this together for me."

"And now we do this every year," agrees Jacy as he gathers his family.

"No matter is going on, we make time for this—for our tradition, and for each other," agrees Johona.

"Be safe on your way home, my children," says Doli in farewell. "Ahh, Abbie. Atsa Biyaazh. Thank you for coming, and thank you for taking part in our traditions," says Doli as she grasps Abbie's hands in hers.

"Thank you, Doli. I'm so grateful to be able to spend the time with you all."

"Jacob?" asks Doli. "Will you return to the city?"

"In a minute, Shimasani. I'll say good bye first, though, after I escort Abbie back to her car," says Jacob to his grandmother.

Abbie and Jacob walk through the pasture, past the flock of sheep, to the fence. Jacob unlatches the fence and allows Abbie to walk through.

"Thank you again for today, Jacob," says Abbie.

"The pleasure is all mine, Abbie." Jacob closes the fence and looks at her curiously. "I won't . . . I won't see you again, will I?"

Abbie gasps in surprise, but does not contradict him.

"It's okay. I know that all of this is a lot. I'm not trying to put any pressure on anyone, Abbie."

"I know Jacob. I meant it when I said that I liked coming, and that I liked spending the day with everyone."

"But?" he asks

"But . . . I don't know how to do that. The family thing. I didn't have it growing up, and I don't have it now, and even though I want it some day . . ."

Jacob nods. "I know. Not now."

Abbie steps forward and puts her hand over his on the fence. "Not yet. Some Day."

Jacob gives her a wistful smile. "Well, if Some Day is someday soon, give me a call. I had a good time today, and I'd really love the chance to do it again sometime." He gives her hand a squeeze and then withdraws, straightening his posture. "In the mean time, you've got this."

Jacob pulls out the brightly colored knit hat that Abbie won earlier.

"Your family's hat!" exclaims Abbie.

"Your hat. You won it fair and square." Jacob hands the bundle of colored yarn over to Abbie.

Abbie feels equal parts of pleasure, pride, and regret as she examines the yarn of the hat. "Thanks, Jacob."

She beams up at him. Abbie sees a wistful longing in Jacob's face that mirrors her own, and with a swift tip toe, she reaches up to kiss him on his lips.

The kiss is sweet—full of gratitude and pleasure, surprise, and discovery. It is also, however, brief, and Abbie breaks contact before the kiss can deepen.

Jacob blinks a couple of times and shoves his hands in his pocket. "You better go, Abbie, before I try to convince you to stay."

"I'll go, because I think you could," says Abbie truthfully. She turns and walks to her SUV.

"I'd give it my best shot," Jacob says with a joking swagger.

Abbie turns back to Jacob and gives him a full-throated laugh. "Good bye, Jacob Ellerby."

"Bye, Abbie Mills."

Abbie watches and Jacob turns and starts walking empty handed toward his grandmother's house.