December 9th

Emily lay back on the couch, hand on her belly, counting Baby's movements as she watched home movies on her laptop. She had headphones pressed against the swell of her stomach so the baby could hear Clyde's voice.

"Hear that, Peanut?" Emily asked. "That's your Daddy... He loved you so much, you know?"

A twitch of movement under her palm.

"Yeah, you love your Daddy, don't you?" she murmured.

JJ settled next to her on the couch, glancing at the laptop screen. "So, what's Baby listening to today?"

She sniffled softly. "Christmas baking misadventures," she said, turning on the volume so JJ could hear.

"What are you doing, Em?" Clyde's voice asked from behind the camera.

"Clyde," she whined. "Don't make fun of me..."

"Tell me what you did, Em," he persisted.

She groaned, pouted. "Baking," she mumbled.

He chuckled. "Baking what?"

She huffed, glancing down at the cookie sheet. "Gingerbread men."

"Let me see..."

"Noooo," she whined, attempting to hide the cookie sheet with her body. "Clyde..."

He moved the camera so his face could be seen as he smirked, mugging for the camera. "You burned them, didn't you?" he teased.

She shrugged. "A little."

He finally got a good look at the cookies – every last one of them burnt to an unrecognizable crisp. "Em! Space vehicles return to the Earth with less charring!"

"You two were so cute," JJ murmured. "He loved you so much."

She nodded, sniffling, still feeling for kicks beneath her palm.

A beat.

"Do you think you'll ever find it again?" she asked softly. "What you had with him?"

Emily chewed at her lip, deep in thought. "I don't know," she admitted, "Part of me doesn't believe I can ever love someone the same way – with all my heart. Maybe you only get that once in your life."

"I don't believe that," JJ said, "I believe you have enough love in your heart for Clyde's memory and someone new. I know it doesn't feel that way now, but with time..."

She nodded, tongue flicking out over her bottom lip. Something seemed to occur to her then. "Is this why you signed me up for the pen pal thing?"

"No," JJ insisted. "Honestly. I just thought you needed a little distraction."

Giving a wet little laugh, Emily said, "Got any more distractions up your sleeve?"

"Just one...but I'm not sure you're going to like it," she admitted.

"What is it?" she asked, deadpan.

JJ plastered on a grin. "Derek's looking for volunteers to help out at the youth centre with some kind of gingerbread thing."

"Gingerbread thing?" Emily repeated dubiously. "Did you even watch that video?"

With a laugh, JJ explained, "I'm pretty sure they're just building gingerbread houses – no baking involved." Then, under her breath, she added, "And I'm pretty sure that there's some kind of municipal ordinance against letting you bake without supervision..."

"You like her, don't you?" JJ said knowingly to Derek, walking up to him where he was watching Emily attempt to get her gingerbread house to hold together.

He whipped around to face her, apparently startled by her presence. "What? No! I don't... I'm not..."

JJ smirked, entirely too self-satisfied for his liking. "Liar. You look like a twelve year old with his first crush."

"Do not," he grumbled. But his attention had already been drawn back to Emily who had since had her lap (what there was to be had, belly considered) occupied by a young girl who was eating candies off her gingerbread house.

"You should ask her out," JJ prodded.

He gave her a dubious look. "A: she hates me, has since we were kids. B: she's pregnant. And, most importantly, C: she's still not over her husband's death. Which part of that makes you think she'd want to go out with me?"

"Well, it doesn't have to be romantic, at least at first. Be her friend and let things happen naturally. There's a thin line between enmity and love afterall..."

Derek rolled his eyes. "You're starting to sound like Penelope," he warned.

She shrugged. "What can I say, she's a wise woman. So, are you going to ask Em out for coffee or not?"

"None of your business, Nosy Rosie," he scolded. And with that, he crossed the room to sit next to Emily. "How's it going over here?" he asked. "Has Miss Emily been making this big mess?"

"Hey!" Emily said with a pout. "I'll have you know I worked my a- butt off to get this stupid house to stand upright and it still looks like the Tower of Pisa."

The little girl on her lap smiled up at her. "I like it!" she declared firmly.

Derek laughed, tickled her side. "You just like it because she's letting you eat all the gumdrops off it," he teased. But over her head, he smiled at Emily, tipped her a wink, trying not to examine why the sight of her with kids made his heart clench.

Dear Silver Belle;

You're not going to scare me off.

Here's the thing about love – and, I guess by extension, life – is messy. Even when it's good. I don't mean to demean whatever it was that you went through, it's never easy to have your heart broken, but I think hearts are more like that Japanese pottery thing where they repair cracks and breaks with gold, you know? There's no such thing as a clean break, but there's beauty in brokenness.

I guess that's all a long-winded philosophical way of saying that I'm not going anywhere. I'm sticking out what we started. Even if, on Christmas, all I'm left holding is a stack of letters.

I'd like to think we're friends...and one thing you should know about me is that I never abandon a friend in need. And it sounds like you really need a friend right now. So, you'd better get used to having me around because I'm here to stay.

Got it?

- Pilgrim

PS: Since I think you could really use a little pick-me-up, when you get this letter, go to the bakery and you'll find a little surprise to lift your spirits...