A/N: Thanks for sticking with me, guys! Here's the next installment.

His head was fully submerged in the trunk of his car when the sound of footsteps carried to his ears and he first felt an open palm come down square on his backside. He jumped, not high enough for the back of his head to collide with the open trunk, but enough to get a laugh out of Stephanie. She leaned against his taillight, folding her arms and smirking. "May I ask what you're doing out here, sweetie? I kept waiting for you to come join us inside at the pool, but you were nowhere to be found."

Chris straightened up, holding a photo album. He dropped his partially filled trash bag in the driveway and held the book out to Stephanie. "I came out here to clean my trunk, since I knew it was a complete mess from when Graham and I had to live in this damn car, and I found old pictures of me, Carly, and Graham."

Before he completed his sentence, Stephanie had opened the front cover and was scouring over each of the pictures, trailing her hands down the clear sheet covering the photos on each page. Chris allowed his gaze to wander and noticed that she was outside in only sandals, shorts, and a t-shirt. After lunch, everyone in the house had gone down to Stephanie's indoor pool, enjoying the water heating feature, but Chris had felt the urge to be by himself and do some quiet reflecting, which led him out to his car. The day was cool, but not so cold that Stephanie's lack of warm clothing would turn her to a shivering mess.

While she was distracted by the pictures, Chris picked up where he had left off, getting rid of garbage and old tools and car supplies that he simply didn't need anymore. Stephanie had been speaking to him about the possibility of selling his car, or at least trading it in for the median value. The vehicle was old but in generally good shape, since Chris had taken care of it the best he knew how, and Stephanie wanted to pair her own money with the trade-in value, paying the difference for him to have a brand-new vehicle. He hadn't accepted her offer, because he wanted to buy his own vehicle, and he was sure that day would come, but he would have to work for it. Stephanie had already done more than enough to dig him out of his hole.

He happened to glance over and found Stephanie staring at a snapshot of Carly, hair of gold hanging down at her shoulders and a proud gleam in her eye as she held her left hand up to the camera, displaying the 2 carat diamond engagement ring Chris had bestowed upon her. Chris smiled, tucking some hair behind Stephanie's ear as he peered over her shoulder. "Took me months of working overtime to pay off the $5,000 for that ring. I remember that night like it was yesterday, though."

"This was taken right after you proposed to her?"

"It was. I popped the question at midnight on January 1, 2000," Chris said, slipping his arms around Stephanie's waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder, studying the picture. Carly had never stopped tugging at his heartstrings, and something told him she never would, regardless of how long she was gone. "We had been together since 1998, and I knew it was the right time. We had been through everything as a couple, and she stood by me through thick and thin, so I went for it."

"She was beautiful, Chris," Stephanie said, and when she looked up, he connected with her sincerity. Her thoughts were as much from her heart as they were from her mouth. "I see so much of Graham in her. He's got her hair color, I think, because hers was a little bit of a darker shade of blond than yours. He has her eyes, too. It's so crazy to see how much he looks like her."

"Isn't it?"

"Wow," she said, letting out a shaky breath. "I'm so sorry that he wasn't able to grow up with her in his life. From what you've told me, there were so many things she would have had to offer as his mom, and it just makes me sad that she can't be with him. I worry about Graham, especially after what happened when I took him to the mall. I want him to be happy."

"He's happy," Chris said, tightening his hold on her. "He's a well-adjusted kid, and he has his harder moments, but Graham knows he's loved. He gets it from all sides because, let me tell you, everyone who meets my kid loves him to death. He's got that winning personality."

Stephanie flipped the page and stopped on an elderly couple huddled together, smiling for the camera. The man's chin was littered with sporadic sprouts of hair, and the deep lines and creases in his forehead and cheeks gave away his age, but he had a set of stunning blue eyes, blue as ocean water. The woman had contrasting brown eyes and a crooked nose that subtracted from her refined beauty, but they seemed pleasant enough, judging by their expressions, and appeared happy together. "Graham's maternal grandparents, I'm assuming?" she asked.

"Yeah," Chris said, his joy fading enough to be noticeable. Stephanie could hear the shift in his mood and she lifted her head, running her fingers down his cheek. Chris shrugged, biting at his bottom lip. "They're a pretty sore subject for me, and I don't even bring them up at all in front of Graham, because he was too young to really remember them, and I don't want him to feel rejected if I were to tell him the truth."

"And what truth is that?"

"Can we talk about something else?" he asked, releasing Stephanie from their embrace and turning his back.

"Of course we can," Stephanie said, flipping to the next page. She tried to continue enjoying the pictures but sighed, closing the book and holding it to her chest. She reached a single hand out and snaked it underneath Chris's shirt, rubbing his bare back with her palm. He stopped rummaging around the trunk and stilled, so she kissed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. I don't want to make you feel pressured into talking about any of these people, unless you want to."

"You don't have to be sorry, baby. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Because I sort of feel like I might have."

Chris turned to face her, shaking his head. "It's me. I have some issues I can't let go of, and when anyone brings them up, I shut down. It has nothing to do with you, and you don't owe me an apology. Here, let me show you something," he said, urging her to hand the photo album over.

He flipped through the pages, chuckling when he came across the page he had been in search of. Chris turned the book around so Stephanie could see it and pointed out the source of his laughter, the person he had been before life had become nothing more than a struggle. Stephanie's eyes lit, blazing like torches, and she covered her mouth to hide her own laughter. In one photo, Chris had been at the gym with a friend, each of them posing with their backs turned to each other and their arms folded, while they put on a set of grim expressions, meant to look intimidating.

The next shot was Chris at the bench press, being spotted by the same friend from the last picture, while a couple of impressed girls watched in the background, draped in scarce garbs more fitting for a couple ladies of the night, to put it mildly. Chris's ponytail fell down his back, and a silver cross earring hung from his right ear. He was fit, young, and vibrant and looked every bit as much like an up-and-coming wrestler as he had dreamed of becoming. What he hadn't expected, however, was the shrillness of Stephanie's voice at the discovery of such images, the pictures throwing her into an ecstatic frenzy.

"Oh my gosh!" she shouted, actually jogging in place as she swooned over the pictures. Chris laughed, content to watch her while she had a mini freak-out session. "You looked so gorgeous! You never told me you had long hair."

"I was heavy into working out back then so I could have a shot at being a wrestler, so I grew my hair out long like them. That picture was taken around a year after I graduated from high school, because I had to wait until I was old enough to go to wrestling school in Calgary," Chris explained. "The guy in the picture with me is Lance Storm, and he was pretty much the only athletic person at the school besides me. I know he was with your company at some point, so I guess he made it to the big leagues. We probably could have been good friends, but we lost contact after I had to drop out."

"Because of your mother's accident?"

"Exactly."

"I'm so sorry," she said, her smile fading the tiniest bit. "I wish you could have kept going and made all of your dreams come true."

"It's okay. Things happen sometimes, and I wouldn't have met Carly if I hadn't been at home in Winnipeg, taking care of my mom, so it all worked out in the end. I couldn't imagine my life without Graham, so I'm thankful I met her and that we had him. Life's a give and take," he said. "You lose out on some things, but you gain a lot, too, so if it wasn't meant for me to be a wrestler in this life, I'm at peace with that. It doesn't make me any less disappointed that it didn't happen, but I have better things to focus on now."

"You're so handsome," she gushed, beaming at him. "You're handsome now, too, but, my God, if I had come across you back then, the things I would have done to..." Stephanie came to an abrupt stop, cheeks reddening as Chris laughed at her. "Oh, God, I just realized I would have only been like 12 years old when you took this picture. Now everything I said before this makes me sound like some sort of creepy, sexually-charged girl. Allow me to rephrase?"

"I was actually going to suggest you stop while you're ahead, but rephrase, if you want to," Chris said, rubbing his palms together. "This should be fun to hear."

"Basically, I'm saying that if I had met you when I was a teen and you looked like this, I would have done very dirty things to you. How do you like that?"

"Well, I never!" he said, pointing distastefully at her with one hand and clutching his chest with the other. "Pervert!"

"You're going to give me a hard time until I let this go, aren't you?" she grinned.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"I give up, then," she laughed, returning her focus to the picture. "So, what made you cut your hair?"

"I cut it years ago," he said. "Once the wrestling thing didn't pan out, I sort of entered corporate America, got a job at the main desk inside a gym, and met Carly. Aside from taking care of my mom, it was a pretty calm life."

"You know," Stephanie looked up, nervous energy coursing through her, "I bet I could get you a tryout with the WWE. I can pull some strings, if you think you might like to try it. You're still athletic and in good shape, and it's never too late to make your dreams come true. I want to do this for you, as a gift for coming into my life and making it so much brighter."

"Are you being serious?"

"Yeah."

"I...don't even know what to say," Chris replied, stunned. He ran a hand over his hair and sat on the outer edge of his trunk. "I'm not in shape like I was before. I don't do as much cardio as I should, so I don't even know that I would do too well in a tryout. I also basically have no wrestling training. I barely got started before I had to leave Calgary, and I don't remember much of anything that I learned back then. I appreciate the offer, Steph, I really do, but it's not plausible. My time is up."

"Don't say that," she frowned, closing the album a second time. "I believe in you, and I know for a fact that you could do this, if you really wanted to. I'm not giving up on you, and neither will any of our trainers, so don't count yourself out before you even begin. I can set you up with some of our road agents. They're all former wrestlers, so they can show you the ropes, no pun intended, and help you get started. Then, and only when you're completely prepared, we'll set up a tryout match and see how you do. You would be perfect."

"All they're going to do is say I'm too small."

"You're not too small," Stephanie said, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure Shawn and Bret were told they were too small, too, but you take what you have and use it to your advantage. You may not be the biggest guy, but you'll have other things that will make you stand out."

"I can be the biggest personality," Chris said, raising his eyebrows as he tried that thought on for size. Stephanie reached for his arm, rubbing her hand up and down its length.

"Now you're getting it," she encouraged. "I want you to make your dreams come true. Just pick up right where you left off back then, and everything else will follow. I know you can do it, and I'm sure Graham will support you, too."

"I need time to think about it."

"That's understandable," she said, peeking into his trunk and scrunching her nose. "For now, why don't I help you clean this mess?"

Chris laughed, kissing her cheek. "Help would be nice."

Caylie arms were raised in the air, guided by Stephanie as she strolled across the room like she had been walking all along. Amanda had gone out for the night, meeting up with some school friends for coffee and muffins, so Stephanie fell on baby-duty and was loving every second of it. The sun was beginning to set, so she led Caylie toward the backyard so they could spy on the boys' football game. Chris had begun making more of an effort to get to know Carter, and when Graham had begged to go outside, they found flags in the corner of Stephanie's game room and took them out for a game of flag football, somehow working it out even though there were only three of them.

"You're doing really well, baby girl. Keep going," Stephanie said, cheering her on. "I'm so proud of you, peanut!" She held on extra tight as they neared the sliding glass door and, when Caylie reached it, Stephanie cheered and picked her up, hugging Caylie to her chest. "Wait until I tell your mommy how amazing you were." Caylie giggled, hiding her face in Stephanie's neck, and she carried her to the cookie jar, pulling the top off and checking inside to make sure it was still full. With three other adults living in her home full-time, food disappeared pretty quickly, so she never knew what was left. "Guess who earned themselves a cookie?"

"My cookie!"

"That's right," Stephanie answered. "Reach in and get one, sweetie."

"I want," Caylie said, pointing at the jar.

Stephanie tossed her head back, laughing. "You want me to pick one for you?"

"Mama," she said, glancing around the room.

"I know you miss Mommy, but she's not here right now," Stephanie explained. She reached into the jar and produced a chocolate chip cookie, holding it out for Caylie. She accepted her dessert right away, taking a messy bite while Stephanie recapped the jar and went to the patio door, stepping outside in the cool evening air in time to watch Graham pulled a flag from Carter's clip. He held it up like a souvenir, jogging along the edge of the grass with it raised.

"I got another flag!" he belted, catching sight of Stephanie. "Look, Stephy, I got one!"

"Nice job, honeybee!" she called back, taking a seat in one of the patio chairs and dodging the fallen crumbs from Caylie's mouth as she enjoyed the remainder of her cookie. She sat quietly in Stephanie's lap, watching the football game and speaking one or two words every so often. The tiring events of the day caught up with Stephanie and she yawned, sitting back in the chair and running her hand over Caylie's blond tufts. There was only one flag remaining on Chris's band, and when Graham tugged that one off, Chris surrendered and jogged over to Stephanie, pressing his lips to hers and kissing the top of Caylie's head.

"Hey, pretty girls," he smiled. "Is everything going okay?"

"Everything's great," Stephanie answered. "Caylie was walking so well inside that I let her pick out a cookie. She's getting some of it in her mouth, but she decided to feed most of it to her lap and mine."

"I'm sure you'll get better soon, right, Caylie?" Chris asked, chuckling. "It's only a matter of time."

"Cookie?" she said, holding it out to him.

"That's okay, sweetheart, it's your cookie. You go ahead and eat it," he said. She returned to her snack, and Chris pulled out the chair beside Stephanie, sitting down and reaching automatically for her hand. He was amazed that such a simple gesture had become engrained so quickly in his routine. "How are you feeling?"

"Good," she said, watching Carter and Graham as they neared the close of their game. They distracted her from the direction Chris had been headed, as she thought back to Chris's uncertainty on the evening she had allowed Carter into her vehicle. "Didn't I try to tell you a long time ago that Carter was a good kid? You should have believed me."

"Apparently, I should have. You're intuitive, I guess."

"I am," she nodded, eyes softening as she glanced at Chris. "My intuition is what led me into offering you and Graham a place to stay. I can usually tell the good people from the bad, so it all works out."

"How many people have you taken in over the years?"

"Uh, probably too many to count, but I don't do it with everyone. I only offer my home up to people when I can feel that they really need it," she said. "When I can see that life has kicked them while they're down, that's when I swoop in and try to help. I have so much unused space here that I don't see any reason not to give back. I like sharing with people who have less than me. It just feels right."

"You're so sweet, babe," Chris said, gearing up for what would come next. "So, this is a little weird to bring up out of nowhere, but can you, uh, tell me whenever you end up getting your period?"

"My period?" she asked, head snapping toward him.

"Well, yeah, if you don't mind," he said. She nodded, turning away, and they sat in silence for a while, hearing nothing but the sound of Graham's cheers and the chirping of crickets. "I'm not out of line for asking you that, am I? Because if I am, then I'm really sorry."

"You're not out of line," she said. "I've just been trying to shut that part of my brain off so I wouldn't overanalyze the situation, but hearing it brought up again gives me the nervous jitters. To answer your question, I'll tell you when I get it, if I get it."

"Are you scared?"

"A little bit."

"I wish you wouldn't be. Whatever the result turns out to be, we'll pull through."

She sucked in at her teeth, squinting into the distance. "I hope so."

Melissa clung to the outer rim of the ice skating rink, shrinking into her jacket and into herself as adults and kids alike whizzed right by, putting her lack of skills to shame. Her hair was bunched into a tight ponytail and secured at her crown, and a headband held the unruly wisps out of her face. She had taken a liking to Ross, and he was always game for hanging out, so they had agreed on a second meet-up, which brought her to where she was, being drowned out by throngs of more experienced skaters. Ross got out on the ice and reached for her hand, but she gritted her teeth, determined to make it without leaning on anyone. After all, she wasn't five years old anymore.

She held onto the barrier with a single hand, waving the other to gain her balance, with no such luck. After a deep breath and plenty of internal prayers to not end up critically wounded, she pushed off with her right hand and glided across the ice, holding herself up and floating as gracefully as a swan. She beamed, feeling like a competitor at the Olympic Games, and then it happened. She went from watching the ice to having her back glued to it, staring up at the lit ceiling and wondering why she had ever agreed to show up to a skating facility in the first place.

It was so not her thing.

"Oh, shit!" Ross hissed, and the next thing she knew, his face floated into her stunted view as he held her cheeks in both hands. "Are you okay? You didn't hit your head, did you?"

"No, but I'm a little mortified right now, so can you help me up and ask questions later?"

"Sure," he said, chuckling when she cracked a smile and held her hands out to him.

Ross gripped her wrists and pulled her back to safety on solid ground, instead of the slippery ice that had made a complete fool of her. The only reason she had gone along with the idea to skate was because Ross suggested it. Apparently, ice skating was a favorite pastime of his, but it had become number one on Melissa's enemies list. He led her back to the small table they had sat at before going out on the ice, where they shared an order of fries and enjoyed a couple of fizzy fruit drinks. Without hesitation, she began unlacing her skates, her silent way of calling it a day, and Ross cringed.

"For the record, I'm sorry that you fell. I feel really bad," he said. "I wouldn't have asked you to do this with me if I thought that would happen."

"It's okay," she said. "I'm just dorky and a klutz, and when you combine those two things, disaster strikes. Let's look on the bright side; eating together was fun."

"Yeah, I guess it was," he laughed, placing his chin in the center of his hand as he watched her pull the skates off and replace her shoes on both feet. "I used to be an ice skater in high school, but I kind of left it behind in college, because it wasn't exactly the cool thing to do, but I had gotten pretty good at it. My parents paid for me to have a certified coach and everything, so, who knows, I probably could have made it, if I had stuck with it."

"So, you were hardcore into this?" Melissa asked. He nodded, and she shook her head, incredulous. "I wouldn't even want to attempt any jumps on that ice, let alone skate on it again. I'm pretty sure it's alive and totally evil."

"Would you quit it?" he laughed, drumming his fingertips against the table as he watched a flock of active skaters, some attempting difficult spins, while others barely managed to remain upright. "It's not about falling. It's about how you recover, and your recovery was impressive. You didn't whine or pout, so that's a point in your favor."

"We're working on a point system now?"

"I guess so. How many points would you say I have?" Ross prodded, raising an eyebrow. Melissa tapped her chin, pretending to be thinking hard as she frowned into the distance. Finally, she came up with an answer.

"You lost all of your points by bringing me ice skating, since it resulted in that humiliating fall I just had, but you won them back by being so gracious and for not laughing at me. I'd say, on a scale from 1 to 10, and with 10 being the highest, you're like an 11," she winked.

"Damn, I must be good, then," he said. He opened his mouth to speak and hesitated, trying again and meeting the same fate. Melissa noticed, urging him with her eyes to continue and, somehow, her confidence in him made a transfer, and he used it as fuel to propel himself forward. "I don't know exactly what this is between us, whether it's only a friendship or could develop into something more, but I like our nights out together. They've been really fun and have helped to take my mind off some of the harder stuff I've dealt with lately."

"Not easy mending a broken heart, is it?" she asked.

"Not at all."

"My only concern with us is that I think we're both sort of stuck in that rebound territory, so how do we know whether we actually really like each other of whether we're only hanging out as a short-term remedy for our heartbreak?"

"I guess we can't know, until enough time passes by," Ross shrugged, fiddling with his fingers and looking down, to avoid eye contact. He was uncomfortable with the direction their talk had taken and Melissa could tell, but her point needed to be spoken. It was as valid as it was significant. "It's just going to take time."

"If that's the case, then we both have time to kill, and who better to kill it with than each other?" Melissa suggested, running a hand over her hair. "We might surprise ourselves and have a better time than we ever expected. Just so you know, I like our nights out together, too. They've been great."

"Let's do this again, then."

"We will, but there's just one stipulation."

"What's that?" Ross asked.

"I get to pick where we go next time, and it won't be a skating rink."

Ross tossed his head back, laughing heartily. "It's a deal, Melissa."