There wasn't a newsie living in Kelly House that ever looked back on the next month or so without remembering it as idyllic. For the first time in years, if not their entire lives, they had regular meals, a safe place to sleep, and a home filled with love and laughter. They got healthier in appearance as they put on much needed weight; cockiness gradually turned to confidence; and minds that didn't have to focus on survival turned to other, more pleasant things. Sooner than Jack and the others might have guessed, the newsies were selling fewer papers and clamoring for other ways to fill their days. The first few mornings, though, found them still rising early as they'd done for years. Greta had learned her lesson and had breakfast preparations underway before they came thundering down the stairs.

Specs was first through the door and he came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Greta at the stove and the smell of something wonderful in the air. He smiled and sniffed appreciatively as the others piled up behind him, griping at the delay, wondering what was going on.

"Well, come on in. Don't be shy," Greta cajoled.

Specs moved forward, allowing the others to fall into the kitchen. Their senses were immediately captivated by the promise of breakfast, and more than one stomach rumbled in anticipation.

"Whacha doin', Greta?" Albert asked in hopeful expectation, rubbing his stomach.

"Cooking breakfast for the lot of you."

"Yes!" Albert all but danced over to see what she was concocting. "Can I help?"

"Certainly," she handed him a wooden spoon. "Watch the oatmeal. Stir it every now and then to keep it from overflowing."

He glowed with happiness at the responsibility. "I's cookin!" he whispered to himself.

"Yes, dearest, you are," Greta confirmed fondly, patting his shoulder.

"Greta, you don't gotta do that," Elmer began. "The Sisters'll give us somethin'," he squeaked, then cowered behind Race at the glare Greta was leveling at him, "in a couple hours," he finished meekly.

"Not one of my boys is to leave this house in the mornings without eating a good and proper breakfast. Not without a very good reason. Do you all understand me?" She pinned each one of them with a look that brooked no argument.

They all nodded.

She snapped her eyes to Elmer, who had opened his mouth to speak. "Cold coffee and stale doughnuts in a couple of hours does not count as breakfast and is most definitely not a good enough reason to leave here without eating first. Do I make myself clear?"

Five heads meekly nodded.

"Don't gotta tell me twice," Albert quipped.

Jack burst out laughing behind them. "Don't worry 'bout it, fellas. I got the same talk when she first moved in." He squeezed around the boys into the kitchen. "Mornin', Greta," he greeted her as he headed to the stove. "She's gotcha cookin' already, eh?" he lightly punched Albert's arm.

"Yup! Oatmeal!"

"Good stuff," Jack told him. "Sticks to your ribs all mornin'."

"Ain't never had it," Albert admitted, giving the cereal a stir.

"You's gonna love it." Jack looked back at the boys still huddling in the doorway. "Trust me, fellas, there's nothin' better than leavin' for work in the mornin' with a belly full of hot food that tastes like heaven."

"Quite right," Greta told them. "Now, Race, you get the plates, one for everyone. Specs, get the silverware." She assigned each boy a task and in moments, the kitchen was buzzing with activity as the boys got the table ready and Greta set the food out.

"What's that?" Finch asked warily as a bowl of steaming oatmeal was put in front of him.

"Oatmeal. It'll keep you feeling full for a long time," Greta explained, adding toast and jam to the table. "Perfect for a frosty morning spent outdoors."

"Oatmeal?" Romeo wrinkled his nose in distaste. "They gave us that at that orphans' home. It's pretty nasty stuff."

"Romeo," Jack warned.

Greta held up a hand to stop him. "It can be bland," she agreed with Romeo, "and it's very easy to cook it wrong, so that it's lumpy or gooey or watery."

He nodded.

"But," she put a bowl in front of him. "This is cooked just right and you can add milk and butter to it to give it some flavor, with maybe a touch of sugar to sweeten it up a bit?" She added each item as she mentioned them, then handed him a spoon.

All eyes were on Romeo as he bravely scooped up a spoonful and put it in his mouth. His face lit with delight and he hurried to swallow it so he could gush, "That's good, Greta! How'd you do that?" He spooned up another mouthful before she could respond.

Encouraged by Romeo's reaction, the others added milk, butter, and sugar to their own bowls and exclaimed at the flavor.

"I ain't never had nothin' this good for breakfast before," Elmer declared.

"You's the best cook ever," Albert decreed.

A chorus of approval echoed around the table.

She beamed at them. "I'm glad you're enjoying it, my dears. Don't forget to try the toast, too."

"Toast?" Race scoffed. "Ain't that just a fancy name for dried up, old, stale bread? I's had enough of that."

"You haven't had my dried up, old, stale bread, have you?"

Several boys shook their heads, their eyes gleaming in anticipation.

"So, what d'we do to it?" Specs asked, taking a slice. He nibbled a corner. "Ain't nothin' special."

"You can eat it plain, if you want to, but I prefer to add some butter and jam."

"Both?"

"Sure."

Specs spread on the butter and some strawberry jam and took another bite. He closed his eyes in bliss.

The others now scrambled to fix their own pieces of toast. Soon moans of enjoyment filled the room.

"Oh, God, Greta, you's gotta be the best cook ever."

"Mmm-hmm!"

"This is heaven!"

"Greta, will you marry me?"

Jack and Greta burst into laughter. "Why don't you wait a bit and ask me again in a few years?" she suggested, as she joined them at the table. She'd eat her breakfast later, with the others, but she prepared a piece of toast for herself to enjoy now. Jack sat at the other end of the table, sipping a mug of coffee.

There was good-natured conversation for the next few minutes as the boys finished breakfast. When they were done, there wasn't a crumb of toast left on a plate, nor a drop of milk left in the pitcher.

"Man, I's so full, I ain't sure I can move," Race proclaimed.

Contented rumbles of agreement were heard from everyone.

"How about working off some of what you just ate by helping me set the kitchen to rights again?" Greta suggested in her practical manner. "Whatever you put on the table, you collect, rinse, and stack next to the sink. So, Race you get all the plates. Specs, pick up the silverware, and so on."

In a rumble of chairs and a clattering of dishes, the boys made short work of clearing the table and leaving things the way had Greta requested.

As they were putting on their coats Greta issued a reminder. "Boys, remember you don't have to sell papes to eat anymore, so try to be back for lunch. We've got things to do this afternoon."

"You got it, Greta."

"Don't gotta ask me twice."

"I's so full I might not be able to eat lunch!"

"Damn! It's cold out here! It weren't this cold yesterday, were it?"

"Yeah. But where you sleep just got warmer than anywhere else you's ever slept."

"Guess so."

"What's the headline gonna be today, ya think?"

Greta and Jack watched the boys head down the alley behind the houses, smiling at their conversation.

"Albert? Romeo? What's up?" Jack asked the two boys dawdling behind the rest.

"Ummm, nothin'?" Albert hedged.

Romeo looked at the pack of boys, then back at Jack.

"Get yourselves in here so we can shut the door," Greta instructed. "We're letting all the warm air out."

The boys scrambled back into the kitchen, but hovered uncertainly by the door.

"What's up, fellas?" Jack asked again.

Albert glanced at the stove. "Ummm...I's wonderin' if Mare and Crutchie missed breakfast 'cause we ate it all?"

"No, sweetie, I'll make breakfast again in a couple of hours when they get up. Don't you worry about how much you eat. We have plenty for everyone."

"Oh."

"Greta?" Jack spoke up, his eyes on Albert's dejected form.

"Yes?"

"Ain't there stuff ya gotta be doin' to get ready for the next breakfast?"

She looked at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. "No. I've just got to wash these dishes and then –" She stopped at Jack's grin and twinkling eyes.

He tilted his head at Albert.

She looked over and it clicked. She smiled in thanks at Jack as she amended, "My stars! I completely forgot I was going to make pancakes for them instead of oatmeal. Do you think there's enough time for me to do that all alone before they come down?"

"I dunno," Jack mused. "Maybe if ya had someone to help out?"

"That would be perfect," she agreed, "but who?" She almost laughed out loud at how quickly Albert's demeanor changed.

"I can help ya," he volunteered. "I did a good job with the oatmeal, right?"

"You did, indeed," Greta praised. "I'll be happy to have another set of hands working with me in the kitchen. Now, get your coat off and we'll get started on those dishes."

"OK!" He paused as he hung up his coat. "Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"'S OK, ain't it?"

"What's that?"

"If I don't sell papes?"

Jack draped a reassuring arm around Albert's shoulders. "Albert, if I had my way, none of ya's would sell papes no more. But that's somethin' each of ya has to decide on your own. You can cook with Greta or sell papes or mix it up. It's up to you. But no matter what, ya gots family here – a place to live and eat and sleep – and that ain't goin' away. Got it?"

Albert nodded.

"Alright. Now get outta here."

Albert grinned as Jack pretended to push him away.

Jack looked down at Romeo. "You wanta cook, too?"

"No. Um, yeah, I will if Greta wants me to, but, ummm..."

"Yeah?"

Romeo lifted pleading eyes to Jack. "Ya said as how Ma was sad yesterday when she got up and none of us was here so I thought I could stay and maybe she wouldn't be so sad today? But if I gotta work to stay I will. I could help Greta cook or – " his mind drew a blank, not knowing what else there was to do around a home, "– or somethin'?" he ended meekly.

"What a thoughtful boy!" Greta declared, pulling him into a hug. "I'm glad you stayed this morning because I'll be working here with Albert and won't be able to go to the store to get what I need to make pancakes."

"I could go," Romeo offered eagerly.

"You could, couldn't you?"

"And what'll ya be needin'?" Jack asked wryly, knowing full well that Greta's pantry was fully stocked and she didn't need anything.

She met his grin with one of her own. "I'll need some flour, just a small bag, now, not too much. And a bottle of milk, if Baylor has it in yet. And maybe a few eggs."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Is that all?" he quipped, pulling on his coat.

"Yes. I think that'll do for now," she smiled innocently at him.

He laughed. "OK, Romeo. It seems we're braving the elements to get flour, milk, and eggs."

"Yeah!" Romeo bounded out the door, eager to complete his important mission.

Jack rolled his eyes at Greta and followed his son out the door.

Not quite an hour later, Romeo entered the kitchen with no less exuberance than when he'd left. "Greta, look! I brung you some flowers!" He thrust a bedraggled bouquet of mostly wilted flowers at her. "Ain't they pretty?"

"Oh, my, yes! They certainly are!" she exclaimed in delight. "I've never seen any prettier than these."

"I know. I brung some for Ma, too." He showed her a second bouquet of equally tired blooms.

"My goodness, aren't they pretty?"

"Yup. Mr. Baylor is real nice. He said if I could count them he'd give them to me two for a penny when they's usually two pennies for one!"

"What a bargain!" Greta told him in an impressed tone.

"That's 'discount,' squirt," Jack corrected. "It means some money off the regular price." He helped Romeo out of his coat and hung it next to his on one of the hooks by the door.

Romeo looked at Jack, then back at Greta. "Yeah, that. And I had a penny in my pocket and he says if I cuts the ends off and puts 'em in water, they may stand up straight. Do ya thinks they will, Greta?"

"I think they just might. Let me get the scissors and some vases for you, then you can snip the ends off and arrange them for us. They'll look real nice on the table, I do say." She hugged him. "Thank you, Romeo. These are about the most beautiful flowers I've ever gotten."

"Even if they don't stand up straight?"

"Yes, even then," she smiled at him and kissed his forehead, then gathered up the shears and vases for him to care for the flowers. She showed him how to snip just the ends of the stems before he put them in the water, then set him and Albert to arranging the flowers as it wasn't quite time to start cooking breakfast for the rest of the family just yet.

Jack put their other purchases on the counter with a knowing grin. "Baylor talks about as much as Romeo, so I let them have at it for as long as I could stand it."

"Thank you," she said with an apologetic smile.

"Anytime," Jack promised with a wink. "He's a great kid, ya know?" He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot Greta left brewing on the stove and leaned back against the counter to watch the flower arranging session.

"Yes. I do. They're all great kids."

"Yeah," Jack agreed softly. "They is."

They sat at the table offering advice to Romeo and Albert. Charles soon joined them, and they chatted companionably until Annie came in, yawning broadly. She was immediately intrigued by the flowers and joined the boys in their task. Jack took that as his cue to go wake his wife. Saturdays were lazier days for them, but she didn't like to sleep the day away, and he always enjoyed helping her wake up.

Jack thought he'd slipped away unobserved, but halfway up the stairs, he felt a small hand slip into his. He looked down into Romeo's smiling, trusting face, and all thoughts of the delicious ways he'd planned to wake up Kat fled his mind. But he found he couldn't regret it. He loved Kat deeply; wouldn't, couldn't imagine life without her; but havin' the fellas livin' here, where he could keep an eye on 'em, and now Romeo wantin' him for a Pop, he just felt more ... complete – as silly as that might sound if he ever said it out loud – than he'd ever felt since before his Ma died. And if havin' a family meant givin' up Saturday mornin's with Kat, then, well, he'd just have to think of other ways to get her alone, wouldn't he? Ya didn't live on the streets for as long as he had without learnin' how to get creative about gettin' what ya wanted.

He smiled at Romeo, tucking him into his side as they got to the top of the stairs. He rapped on the door a couple times, then cracked it open. "Knock, knock, sleepyhead. You awake, yet?" He stuck his head in and peered at the bed.

"Mmmmm," was the sleepy reply, but she was stirring, at least.

"Wake up. Ya gots company."

She lifted her head at that. "What? Who?"

"Ma?" Romeo's head appeared below Jack's.

"Oh," Kat came to attention, turning over and scooting back to lean against the headboard. She pushed the hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ears as she smiled at them. "My fellas," she said warmly. "Come sit with me for a minute or two before we have to join the rest of the world."

Romeo didn't have to be asked twice. In a flash, he was across the room, burrowing under the covers and into her arms.

"Good morning, sweetie. Ow! Kick off your shoes. That's better. How are you this morning?"

He set off telling her of his morning's adventures in his adorably rambling way.

Jack sat on Kat's other side, preferring to remain on top of the covers, but wrapping his arms around them both as he and Kat shared secret, silent greetings while listening to Romeo's tale with half an ear. When at last Romeo's story had wound down and Kat had made all the appropriate exclamations and appreciations, Jack suggested Romeo go get the book he'd given Jack the day before.

"New pictures?"

Jack nodded.

Romeo was off the bed and out the door in the blink of an eye.

Jack figured they had about ninety seconds all to themselves and he took full advantage of them.

If Kat was a bit breathless and Jack was looking rather pleased with himself, Romeo didn't notice when he charged back into the room, hopped up on the bed, and squirreled his way between these two people he loved more than anything else in the world.

In what would become a Saturday morning tradition for them, they sat together for a little while and looked at Jack's pictures and remembering all that had happened over the past week. Eventually, Jack would usher Romeo back to the kitchen while Kat got dressed, then they'd have breakfast together with the rest of the family.

At Kelly House, Saturday mornings were slower than the rest of the week. Greta made a breakfast as usual, determined to get everyone's day off to a good start, but lunch and dinner were on your own. She left plenty of cold cuts and vegetables in the ice box, and made sure there was plenty of bread for sandwiches for those who opted to eat in, but she didn't prepare a meal.

And on Saturdays, since no one hurried off to work, she had the luxury of enjoying her coffee after breakfast while the others, usually led by Charles, whose idea it was in the first place, cleared the table and washed the dishes. This particular Saturday, their first with the newsies, Kat and Romeo had been tasked with collecting and rinsing the dishes and putting the food in the icebox; Jack and Charles would wash and dry the dishes that Annie would then put away. After they had completed their part, Kat gave Romeo some paper and pencils so he could draw pictures to go with the story he was telling to his fire cat.

"Romeo, sweetie, use a quieter voice, OK? No, you don't have to whisper, just talk a little more softly so that Greta, Albert, and I can talk, too. That's a sweet boy." She ruffled his hair and he beamed at her praise.

Annie, who was waiting to do her part, joined Romeo and they created a fantastic story, with Annie writing the words because Romeo told her, "I don't know my letters so good to write fast enough," though he was more than happy to draw the pictures.

It was the kind of scene Jack loved and treasured most – everyone enjoying everyone else's company, happy, warm, loved. These kind of moments reminded him of those long ago times with his parents and Eddie. They hadn't had much, but they'd had each other, and Jack couldn't have imagined anyone on earth being happier than they were back then. He was adding the last dried plate to the stack when the door burst open.

Everyone jumped.

"My word!" Charles exclaimed, rushing to get the two cold boys standing there into the kitchen, and shut the door.

"Specs, Elmer, you OK?" Jack asked in alarm.

"Yeah, we's fine," Specs told him.

"It's snowin'," Elmer announced.

"Rainin'," Specs corrected.

Charles looked out the window. "It does appear to be doing a bit of both," he confirmed.

"So, why're you's back home?" Jack asked. "You's both sold papes in worse weather before."

"Yeah," Elmer said uncertainly. "But, um, Greta said as how we don't gotta sell papes to eat no more, and ..."

"And, what? You figured you'd come home and be lazy on a cold Saturday mornin'?"

They just looked at him expectantly, not noticing the twinkle in his eyes.

"Good thinkin', fellas. That's what we's gonna do."

They relaxed with huge sighs of relief as they hung their coats on the pegs by the door.

"What'd ya do with your papes?" Jack asked.

"Gave 'em to Buttons. His family needs more coal to heat their apartment," Specs told him.

"Tommy Boy's ma's doin' poorly, so's I gave him my papes. Even if no one buys 'em, he'll get somethin' when he sells 'em back to Wiesel."

Jack sighed, hating to hear his friends were not faring well. "Next time you sees 'em, tell 'em the Union's got emergency funds to help with stuff like that. It ain't charity; it's included with the membership."

They both nodded, then Specs asked, "Jack, what's 'bein' lazy'?"

"It's when ya do only what ya wants to do at the speed ya wants to do it."

"Hunh?"

"Ya do somethin' ya likes but ya ain't gotta be somewhere or do anythin' else. Ya just enjoy what ya's doin'."

"Sort of like yesterday, guys," Kat told them, "but without all the excitement."

"Oh," they crooned. They'd both immensely enjoyed yesterday and wouldn't mind doing it again.

Elmer sniffed the air. "Somethin' sure smells good."

Greta laughed. "That big breakfast you ate and you're hungry for more?"

"There ain't never been a time when I ain't been hungry," he said matter-of-factly.

She sobered for a moment and cradled his face in her hands. "Not here, angel. You'll never be hungry here. I promise."

He nodded.

She patted his cheeks and turned to the bread box. "Albert did a good job with the pancakes this morning. They're cold now, but that's when they're best with jam. Specs, get the jam from the icebox. Elmer get a knife and five small plates. Annie, the serving tray, and Romeo, five napkins." In short order, she had the serving tray prepped and in Specs's hands. "Why don't you take that into the parlor and play one of your new games?"

"Parcheesi?" Annie and Romeo eagerly suggested in unison.

Specs shrugged, "Sure. Come on, Elmer."

"Yeah!" Romeo bounded down the hall. "I get to be the tigers!"

Greta caught Albert looking at the door. "Go on, Albert. It's OK."

"But –"

"But nothing, dearest. We've all eaten, the kitchen is clean, and we're just going to sit here talking for a little while. Go play games with the others."

"But Parcheesi only needs four players."

"Go on. You'll work with the others to figure things out. Shoo, now," she flapped her hands at him.

He didn't need any more encouragement. He wanted to be lazy, too.

As he disappeared, Greta heaved a sigh and lowered herself into a chair.

"They can really get to you, can't they?" Kat asked with an understanding smile. "It amazes me what they accept as normal." She looked at Jack with sadness in her eyes for everything he'd endured.

He scooted down the bench to wrap an arm around her. He kissed her temple. "It's gettin' better for 'em all, now," he reminded her.

"I know, but –"

"Hey! You's the same lady that wouldn't let me think about what could go wrong with Crutchie, ain't ya?"

She nodded.

"Well, then, don't you be goin' and doin' the same thing 'bout the rest of the fellas. They's had rough lives, true, but they just got a lot less rough, thanks to you."

"And you," she insisted.

"Whatever. The things is, we got five of seven newsies in the house right now. Think about that now, will you?"

She smiled. "You do have a point."

"Course I do," he squeezed her. "Sometimes I gets to be the one who's right, ya know."

She kissed his cheek. "I know."

The four of them talked for a while before eventually moving into the parlor. The kids had broken into two groups: Annie, Albert, and Romeo were having fun with Parcheesi, while Specs and Elmer were practicing their chess skills. Charles joined them when they had questions, being rather good at chess himself. Greta joined her daughter and the boys at Parcheesi when a new game began, leaving Jack and Kat on their own.

Kat suggested going upstairs, but Jack shook his head.

At her look of disappointment, he chuckled softly. He caressed her face and explained in a low voice, "Believe me, Kat, I wanta go upstairs with you right now, more'n anything." He kissed her just beneath her ear. "But we's got us a boy over there with an uncanny sense of where we is and a knack for findin' us. I'd rather be alone with you here, with all of them in the room, than alone with you upstairs and him on the other side of the door, wonderin' why we won't let him in."

She giggled. "You may have a point."

He drew back in mock alarm. "What's this? I's right 'bout somethin' twice in one mornin'? Somebody better write that down!"

She giggled louder and snuggled into his arms. "I can't believe we're here like this," she told him. "I'm so happy, I can't even begin to describe it."

He squeezed her. "I know, Kat. I know."

The rest of the morning was spent in games, conversation, and just being together until they heard Race and Finch blow into the kitchen, cursing the cold outside and praising the warmth inside.

"Lunchtime," Greta declared. She headed for the kitchen ahead of everyone else to greet the two boys and set out lunch. She had Race and Finch sit by the fire to warm up and got the others to help her as they trickled in. In no time, everyone was enjoying sandwiches around the table.

"How was sellin' today?" Albert asked.

"Terrible," Race told him. "Ain't no one wants to come out in all this on a Saturday mornin' and those there is don't wanta take their hands out their pockets just to buy a pape. Shoulda prob'ly come back with Specs and Elmer," he admitted.

"Woulda been a lot warmer," Finch observed.

"How many'd ya sell?" Specs asked.

"Not many," Finch told him. "Maybe thrity or so. I got fifty, so's at least I got back what I spent to get 'em. Gave the rest to Tommy Boy."

"Me, too," Race added. "But gave mine to Buttons. Specs tell ya them two is in a poor way?"

Jack nodded. "Next time ya sees 'em, tell 'em to come see me."

"Got it," they agreed.

After lunch had been devoured, Greta served a dessert of cookies and milk. While they were remembering the fun they'd had making the cookies, Greta saw a coat fall off a peg and onto the floor. She went to put it back up and noticed that it was threadbare across the shoulders, with several holes in the seams, and excessively frayed cuffs. She glanced through the other newsies' coats and found them all to be in similar states of disrepair. Kat joined her, asking what she was doing. Greta handed her the coat she'd picked up.

Kat examined all the coats, too, then caught Jack's eye and motioned him over.

After he inspected the coats, he sighed. "Winter's only gonna get worse, too, ain't it?" he muttered.

The women could only agree with his assessment.

He nodded, then made an announcement, "OK, fellas. Change of plans. Finish up here, then get your coats on. We's goin' out."

"Where's we goin'?"

"You lot need coats."

"But we gots coats."

Jack silenced all protests with a look. "Whacha got is OK for sellin' papes, but you ain't livin' here without havin' a decent coat like the rest of us have."

"But –"

"Keep your newsie clothes if ya wants to. I don't care. I ain't askin' ya to give them up. But all of ya need decent clothes and you's gonna get 'em. Today." His tone brooked no objections and he received none from the wide-eyed boys at the table. "Don't just sit there," he chided them in a teasing tone. "Get movin' before I crack me some heads."

There was a bustle of activity as they scarfed down the remainder of their milk and cookies, put dishes beside the sink, and shrugged into their meager coats. Charles commandeered a couple of the boys to wrestle Crutchie's chair outside while Annie went to get a blanket to tuck around his legs.

Crutchie tried to protest that he didn't need new clothes while his legs were broken, but Jack ignored him, and soon Crutchie was bundled up and trundling down the alley in the center of the group of boys, Race pushing his chair.

Jack looked at the others, still in the kitchen. "Well, what're ya's waitin' for? Get your coats on!" He held up Annie's coat for her to slip into.

"Really?" she asked hopefully.

Jack winked at her. "Why should the fellas have all the fun?"

She squealed as she shimmied into her coat and was out the door and down the alley with the boys before Jack got the next coat down.

Jack handed Greta's coat to Charles, who ignored her protests as Jack had ignored Crutchie's. When she was at last buttoned up, he shrugged into his own coat and attempted to take her arm to escort her down the street. She didn't budge. She looked at Jack, steely determination in her posture, and opened her mouth to protest.

Jack was having none of it. "Greta, when was the last time you got somethin' pretty and new just for fun?" he asked her before she could speak. Over her sputtering, he continued, "Don't worry 'bout it. Just think of it as a ...," he looked at Kat, "What is it when you makes sure someone who works for ya can get decent clothes?"

"A clothing allowance."

"Yeah, Greta. Think of it as that."

"I don't have a clothing allowance."

"You do now," Charles interceded, linking her elbow with his and escorting her out the door.

Alone for the moment, Jack looked at Kat and smiled warmly. "And you, –"

He was cut off from saying more by her kiss. Never one to object to receiving his wife's affections, he wrapped his arms around her as he deepened the kiss. When they pulled apart, he looked down at her, but said nothing. Her smile told him all he needed to know. He helped her into her coat, walked her outside, and, after locking the door behind them, escorted her down the alley toward the small crowd awaiting them.