A/N: Posted the same day as Chapter 11, so be sure to read that one first! This is all folks! Thanks for giving this story a chance through the end. CW: mentions of depression. Notes at the end.

May 1967

Last summer, Samantha, still not quite old enough to drive, and her friends wanted to go to the carnival. Against her better judgement, she piled six teenage girls into her car and drove them out to the carnival. She told them they could wreak all of the havoc they wanted so long as they met back in the parking lot by 9pm. She found herself just wandering around, thinking of the last time she was at a carnival nearly forty years ago-until she saw him.

"Teresa Lisbon? Is that you?"

"Teresa Bosco, but yes, it's me, Patrick Jane."

"Huh. I thought I was either dying or my eyesight was going. It's really a toss up these days."

She laughed. "It's good to see you, too. It's strange to say this, but I didn't expect to see you here."

"Likewise. This is how I remember you, but I never thought I'd see you again."

"My daughter and her friends wanted to come to the carnival. There was no way I was sending a car full of 16 year olds out here all by themselves."

"You have a 16 year old?"

"I do."

"Well, not that you look a day over 35, but I seem to remember you having a lot more years on you than that." She punched him in the shoulder.

"Ow! But same ole Teresa, I guess."

She laughed at that. "And same ole Patrick!" He asked her to accompany him on a walk through the grounds.

"So how are things with you? How's Sam? I know you married him. The biggest indicator being the name change." He grinned.

She smiled sadly. "I did. He's been gone four years now."

His smile fell. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"Me too. We had a great life together, but he was in a lot of pain in the end. He fought to stay with us for as long as he could. How about you? Where's your wife? I know you didn't get this far without one."

"She was murdered almost 25 years ago."

Her blood ran cold. "What?"

"I thought...I ran a con out in California. I was established out there for a while. I even had a fancy house. I caught the attention of this lunatic who wanted to play with me, so my wife and daughter paid the price. She was only five."

"Patrick, I'm so sorry."

"I found him. I spent 10 years in San Quentin after I did, but I guess I learned a lesson about cons."

She reached for his hand and squeezed it. "It doesn't matter. Your family didn't deserve that; you didn't deserve that."

His eyes were sad for a moment before he snapped back. "So you have a 16 year old. She's not your only one is she?"

She shook her head. "Nope. I had eight children. Only seven survived to adulthood."

He whistled. "You and Sam had eight kids, huh? Well, I told you that you loved him. Sam Bosco would not have come to your bed unless you wanted him to, and eight children...I mean, Teresa, that's bordering on an indecent amount of love." She punched his shoulder again. "I'm sorry for the one who didn't make it though. It's hard losing a child."

"It is. She died in her crib before she was even a year old. Our oldest girl was sick, so I was up taking care of her. Sam got up to swaddle Rachel that night. The next morning, I went to get her for her feeding...she was gone. He spent years wondering if he did something wrong when he put her back in her crib, or if his little girl was being punished in his stead for his sins."

His voice softened as he squeezed her hand. "I can understand that."

She spoke softly. "I never blamed him."

"Yeah, but when a father can't protect his daughter...it changes you." For the first time in years, she thought of her own papa who never had such problems.

Hands clasped together, she and Patrick spent the day walking, talking, and catching up. They exchanged contact information. The girls were gawking at them as Patrick walked her back to the car 30 minutes past 9pm. She told them she ran into an old friend. Samantha led the girls in a bit of teasing in the car about her being out with a boy and missing her own curfew.

Keeping in touch didn't take long. The next day, she met Patrick for ice cream around 2pm. They stayed until the shop closed. The day after, they had coffee. They stayed until the shop closed-and then, they went for dinner.

A few nights later, she bit her lip as she dialed the number to the motel he was staying in. "Would you like to come over for dinner?"

"Sure. What can I bring?"

"Just yourself is fine."

Samantha was staying the night with one of her friends, so she made some quick chicken and potato recipe she found in the paper. He appeared at her door about an hour or so later with a bouquet of flowers. She hadn't received flowers since Sam's funeral, and by that point, she wanted no more flowers because they would never come from Sam again. It was nice that Patrick brought flowers.

They ate dinner and continued talking. She wasn't sure how they had so much to talk about, but they did. As he went to leave for the night, he stopped at the door, running his hand through that luscious head of hair before turning back toward her.

"I'm sorry I'm so bad at this. It's been a while. A beautiful woman invited me to her house for dinner, and I didn't even…"

"It's ok. I've not...well, not since Sam died. I understand."

"Yeah, not since Angela died either."

She shrugged. "I didn't expect anything when I invited you for dinner."

"I know. Can I see you tomorrow?"

"Yes."

And that's how they were for a while. Just seeing each other and talking. A few weeks in, they kissed for the first time. Neither of them had to speak the words of loss and remorse they knew the other felt as they held each other silently after their kiss. It felt wrong to be held by Patrick as she thought of her last first kiss—her first kiss ever—on a snowy Valentine's Day. But it was nice to feel that comfort from someone who understood how hard this could be.

Within a month, they graduated to full blown lovemaking.

"There will be no babies!"

"Teresa, you already have enough kids and grandkids to fill a few different sports teams. I know the Church has rules about this, but I think you're good!" She slapped his chest. "They definitely have rules about this, too." He wiggled his eyebrows as he pointed to their bare bodies. She slapped his chest again.

"But men can make babies for longer than women can. Are you sure that's not something you want?" If it were, he would have to find a younger woman. She hoped it wasn't.

He chuckled. "I'm much too old to be chasing after little ones of my own now! What I'd like to do is spend all of my time with you. Besides, don't you have a small army of grandchildren that just need to be doted on, not raised?" He kissed her lips, and she knew he was a keeper.

Somehow, the kids caught wind that she'd been spending time with a man, but Jimmy was the first to meet Patrick. He showed up one night when she invited Patrick over for dinner with her and Samantha. She suspected Samantha told her Uncle Jimmy dropped a hint that Patrick would be there, as he showed up demanding to meet this new boyfriend of hers. He didn't remember Patrick from the carnival all those years ago. After all, he was just the guy who took him to Ella. Jimmy sat and talked with them for a while as they played cards. Of course, Patrick cleaned all of their clocks.

"He'll be good for you, T." Jimmy said as he kissed her cheek to leave for the evening. She cried a bit that night as she remembered the little boy who puffed his chest out and introduced himself as "James Lisbon" to Sam and how he joked about being glad Jimmy didn't have a good swing when he met him. Jimmy hadn't been able to swing a bat in years, and Sam was gone now, but the sentiment was the same.

The kids didn't react the same as Jimmy. Samantha, Violet, and Tommy were generally supportive, but the rest were absolutely opposed to any man spending time with her. Though, they didn't say it that way. Sam Junior demanded his full name to have a background check run on him because he didn't trust a man who would take his mother out without first making introductions. He was probably a fraud or a criminal. She just laughed at that. When he asked what was so funny, she told him: "It just is." The apple didn't fall far from the tree!

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Somehow, he got her up on that damned Ferris wheel again! When they were high in the air, it stopped. He held her hand just like the last time.

"So how's the Ferris wheel this time?"

"I still like the land beneath my feet. This is a death trap!"

"Really? You gave birth eight times. This is scary to you?"

"You know what? Yes. It's where I draw the line! And why is this taking so long? Is the wheel broken again?"

"Just look out over the city!" She looked to her right. Her gorgeous city had changed so much since the last time she did this. "Ok, it's nice, but…"

As she turned her head back to him, she saw that he held a golden band in his hand.

"Almost forty years ago, I fell in love with this girl with a sweet face and a highly illegal career. She was cute as a button but very stubborn. She really liked punching boys for some reason. Someone had already claimed her heart, but she let me be her friend. She even let me take her high above the sky over Chicago and hold her hand while we bickered for the better part of an hour. This is the spot where I fell in love with that girl—but knew I could only ever be her friend. A few months ago, I met the woman that girl became. I became that woman's friend, and I fell in love again. Though, we've led two separate, but full lives, I was wondering if that woman might do me the honor of becoming my wife for the rest of our lives?"

She blushed deeply as she smiled at him. "Wow. How many girls did you take up on the Ferris Wheel?"

He laughed a hearty laughter. "You'd be surprised by the answer but only two! I asked both of them to marry me. One did, and well, that chapter is finished. I'm just hoping the other says yes, too."

Though they'd both aged, she still saw that same boyish grin. It didn't take long for her to answer. "Yes, I will."

She still wore Sam's diamond ring, which caused her some guilt when she realized she just accepted another man's proposal of marriage with it on her finger. She went to remove it, but Patrick covered her hand with his.

"No. This is a part of who you are, just like Angela was for me. You were married to him for over 30 years. I think we have to accept that they will always be a part of us. Just give me your other hand."

"Are you sure?"

He shrugged. "Unless you have another husband's ring on that."

"Very funny. I don't."

"Good." He slid his engagement ring onto her right hand. He kissed her before leaning over the side of the car. "All right, boys! You can let us down. She said yes!"

"Did you get them to stop this wheel so that you could propose to me?"

"I had to set the scene!" He shrugged. "I'm still a showman at heart!"

"If it weren't so sweet, I'd punch you." As they reached the ground, the folks on the ground cheered for them.

Though, that sentiment didn't spread to her family. The following Sunday supper was more than awkward. All of the kids and grandkids filed into the house to meet Patrick. Sam Junior was fuming when he found out she accepted his proposal. They kept it together...until Samantha made her case for Patrick. Then, all hell broke loose. "Patrick is a really nice guy. I think he really loves mama. He treats her so well at home!"

When the carnival moved on, he stayed in Chicago. He was going to look for a permanent place to board, but as she pointed out, she and Samantha had plenty of space. He maintained a separate bedroom. But of course, there was some late night/early morning hour sneaking back and forth.

Jamie, her sweet Jamie, hit the roof. "Mama, you have a man living with you? Are you insane?"

"I think it's nice that she's found someone to keep her company!" Violet always shared her temperament.

"What kind of example are you setting for Samantha? We know nothing about this man!" She chuckled inwardly as Sam Junior rubbed his balding head the same way his father used to when he was upset. Sam used to thank her for his carbon copy son, especially when they butted heads.

"Sam, I don't know that allowing my fiance, who does not have a home, to stay here in his own room is setting any kind of example for Samantha. Besides, he will be living here when we get married anyway!"

She looked over to Patrick who looked equal parts amused and scared to death. She warned him the children may not take this well, and while she had years of experience handling their unique mix of Bosco-Lisbon temperaments, he was new to this.

"Mama, the problem is that he's your fiance! Who is he?" Mary Katherine looked at her with concern.

Finally, he spoke up. "I'm Patrick Jane. I'm 60-no, 61 now. I was born in Nevada, I think. I was born on the carnival circuit, so I traveled around quite a bit. I like tea and ice cream and being outdoors. You don't really want to play games of chance with me. I do have abilities to detect moods and reactions that let me pretend to be a psychic. I used to be a conman, but I gave that up years ago. I spent 10 years in prison for killing the man who killed my wife and daughter."

There were gasps. Sam's voice boomed when he spoke. "Mama, this man is dangerous! If you're lonely, we can do more to come by and visit with you! You don't need some murdering, carnival freak here with you and Samantha!"

Patrick closed his eyes as she threw her napkin on the table. She took no issue with his past. She understood why he'd done what he did. Besides, even if she would take it to the grave, she knew their father didn't have clean hands either. She loved him still.

"I beg your pardon, Samuel Ellis Bosco, Jr.? You will not disrespect my husband in our home! He's trying to talk to you and help with your concerns, but you won't hear him out! Would you rather he tell you lies? I know of his past, and I'm not ashamed of him or scared!"

"He's taking advantage of you! He knows you've just lost papa. He's here to swindle you out of whatever he can get! We will make sure we visit more to keep you company."

Jimmy started laughing. "Sam, I don't think that's the kind of company she's looking for!"

Her face reddened as she heard a series of grumbles and noises of disgust. While the frequency and vigorous nature of their lovemaking had evolved, Sam had made love to her until he got sick. Yet, at 60, they thought she was too old to want or desire the company of a man!

"Uncle Jimmy, now's not the time. If you're not going to help out here, can you just keep out of it?"

"No, I don't think I will. Your papa loved your mama very much. He taught most everyone in this room what that word meant. As such, he'd be disappointed to see you carrying on like this. He'd want her to be happy, not alone and miserable. She's not that old, and you treat her like she's senile or unabble to make choices for herself! Patrick seems nice enough. Maybe give him a chance for your mama!"

"Papa would disapprove of this man-a conman and a murderer by his own admission-living here outside of marriage. I know that!"

She cackled at that. One thing she'd realized after Sam died is that people didn't just remember the good when you died. If you were good enough, they made you into a saint!

"Mama?" Her Madeleine put her hand on her forearm. She'd sat next to her today because she wanted to be near her new grandson. He was cooing in his mama's arms as he reached out for her. She wanted to just play with the baby.

She huffed in frustration. She did not birth and raise these seven children so they could turn around and treat her like a child!

"I am your mother! I am an adult woman, and if I want to get married, I will. If I want to make love to a man, I will!" Another round of gasps and grimaces. If this would get them to be quiet, she could do it all day. "I do not need a decision from the council to determine who I can consort with, marry, or live with! You know, I lived with your papa before we were married."

"You've never told us that before." Tommy looked at her in confusion. That had been a great name choice for him. He reminded her so much of her brother.

"People just didn't talk about it back then like they do now, but he took me in before we were even engaged because I had nowhere else to go." They'd never mentioned much about her papa to the children. Everything he stood for was the exact opposite of the type of home she and Sam maintained for the children.

Now, Stan laughed. "It's true. He even moved me and Jimmy in here before they were married! They'd made their promise to each other, just not to the public yet, and that was good enough for him."

Tommy shook his head. "Why did you all live with papa?"

Without skipping a beat, Stan answered. "Because our papa was a mean son of a bitch and didn't want any of us around. Now, I figure if Sam was here, he would kick Patrick straight out on his ass-but that would be because he was encroaching on his woman. Not because he thought it was a ghastly sin for two people promised to be married to live under the same roof. Besides, I've got to tell you, I think we're past protecting her virtue. There's too many of you here for that ship to not have sailed."

He winked at her, and she smiled. Over the years, Stan opened up more and started to be more outgoing. His writing helped. At the funeral, when he spoke, he said that Sam had helped him heal in ways he didn't know he was broken. That was probably true for all of the Lisbon siblings.

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In all of this talk of them coming to live with Sam, she didn't miss the wave of sadness that crossed Jimmy's face as he seemed to float away. She got up and wrapped her arms around her baby brother, squeezing him tight as he rubbed her arm. He started to struggle again when Sam died.

About a year after Sam died, Mimi called her one night terrified because he just started crying and was in a panic. He locked himself away in his basement—with his guns. Afraid he was drinking again, she went over to see after him. She quickly figured out he had not been drinking at all; something was wrong. She talked him into coming out and going to bed. She got in bed with him, holding him as he cried.

"Why does everyone leave me, T? What happens when you leave? I can't take this pain anymore. I don't want to be here anymore."

She held him until he went to sleep. The next morning, the three of them decided he should go to the hospital for help. She and Mimi drove him together. His doctor helped him understand these were feelings he had since the day papa beat him and told him he killed mama. Over the years, he'd found different ways to cope with Sam's help. Losing Sam, the person he saw as the father who protected him from everything but war, triggered these feelings again. His doctor said that Sam dying also heightened his fears of losing her: the woman he saw as his mother. When Stan found out about his hospitalization, he started finding activities to do with Jimmy a couple times a week.

She had long moved past the part of herself that felt responsible for anything papa did. She no longer believed she should've been there for the abuse instead of Jimmy. Sam was right; she didn't deserve that. None of them did. But that didn't stop her from wanting to hold her baby brother close to protect him from everything, even himself, like she had from the moment they placed newborn Jimmy in her arms. He was still under a doctor's care, but he was doing much better. She was so proud of him for getting help.

She didn't broadcast Jimmy's troubles because that was his story, but she'd always take the time to hold her baby brother when he needed it.

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She sat back in her chair between Patrick and Madeleine to rejoin the bickering over whether she could marry him. Regardless of their opinions, she would marry Patrick. She didn't mind letting them air this out. If she learned anything in her lifetime, it was that the grieving process could take as long as it needed and could happen in many different forms. Today, they grieved the loss of their father and the notion that their mother would replace him. She remembered Sam making a similar comment about papa getting a new wife once, and she didn't react well. She understood: their papa was larger than life and there could never be another. She felt that way, too.

Sam Junior spoke again. "But mama, what if he's not good enough for you? Papa told me to make sure you're taken care of."

"Your papa knew better than anyone that I can take care of myself!"

Patrick spoke out again. "I really do love your mother, and I'm not here to bring her harm. Besides, I know she has a lot of guns around here somewhere, and she knows how to use them." She flashed him a blushing smile before he continued. "Am I good enough for her? Probably not, but I will give it everything I've got trying to be. I remember the first time I met your mother almost 40 years ago. Do you remember that?"

She scrunched her nose up. "Vaguely."

"So you don't remember throwing lemon water in my face?"

She laughed. "I definitely remember that."

"So I was standing at the bar, and your mother walked in with a huge smile on her face. She looked in my direction, and I thought this beautiful girl is looking at me with this bright smile. I started to wonder what I did to get her to smile at me that way and wanted to make her acquaintance. Well, then I noticed that she wasn't smiling at me, she was smiling at your father sitting at the table down in front of the bar. He wore a smile that said: 'I'm madly in love with that woman,' and it matched hers. And I don't think I could ever recreate that. Look, I'm not your father. I am not trying to fill those shoes because I don't think I could even if I wanted to. I love your mother, and I want us to spend the rest of our lives together."

"That was really sweet, honey." She squeezed his hand as their eyes met. "I love you, too."

Her Madeleine scrunched her face. "So why did she throw lemon water in your face?"

"Oh, I insulted her." He said it was like the most natural thing in the world as the kids continued their bickering. They just kept their hands clasped, smiling at each other. By the end of supper, the kids were still split over Patrick. But he may have won his toughest critic, Sam Junior, over with a joke.

"You know I don't expect you to call me dad, right? I don't think we could really pull the look off." He pointed to his head, still full of lush golden-fading to-silver curls, and the bald head Sam inherited from this father. For a moment, she thought she might have to break up a fight. She was worried Sam—named for his father and every bit like him—might punch him. Instead, he belted out a laugh at that and slapped him on the back. She smiled.

By their wedding day in May, the kids had all warmed to Patrick. He still had his skills and figured out how to reach each one individually. When she told him the kids would come around on their own time, he told her that her children were important to her which meant they were important to him too. She couldn't love him more. Though, she only wished she had known he planned to go out drinking with Sam, Jamie, and Tommy so she could warn him. He was out of sorts for days!

She had a full, wonderful life with Sam. He was a great man. His reminder that life goes on helped her find the courage to take that diamond ring she had worn for 40 years off of her left hand. If he were here, he would tell her it was ridiculous to keep it on because it was just a ring, not their actual marriage. She placed it on the chain necklace with mama's cross that she still wore all these years later. Two hearts that she would always carry with her everywhere she would go.

She felt a pang of guilt as her daughters and daughters-in-law helped her get ready for the wedding. Sam wanted her not to be lonely, but she couldn't help but think of how different this all felt from what seemed to be both a lifetime ago and no time at all.

As they took their first dance as Mr. and Mrs. Patrick Jane, she thought of what Patrick told her that day she joined the carnival for a day—the day when everything seemed to be wrong and awful. When she asked him if they could've had a chance before she met Sam, he told her then they would've never had this dance.

That was the truth of it. As she swayed around the barroom floor of Sam's Place with her new husband, she thought of how if she hadn't gone home that day, she wouldn't have her beautiful children and grandchildren or 40 years of happy memories mixed with the sad ones. She wouldn't have had a life well lived—or the promise of a new adventure that she shared with the man holding her in his arms now.

A/N: Some readers probably figured out where this was headed in Chapter 11. Like I said, Chapters 11 and 12 were meant to be one epilogue, but the time jumps and the idea of finishing one adventure before starting another led me to split them. As I've alluded to before, this story turned out MUCH differently than I originally anticipated. The original idea was a Jisbon story where Lisbon was a bootlegger who got pressured/forced into an engagement with a much older guy (Bosco) that she didn't really care for. She would meet Jane, this psychic working in the carnival, and they would fall in love and run away together. While that's a cool story, the deeper I got into planning this story out, the more I realized it just didn't fit who I imagined this version of Lisbon being. Truthfully, it's not where my headspace, as an author, is right now either.

A young woman in the 1920s of this type of upbringing and caring for her family likely would NOT just run off with a guy. When that came into focus, so did other elements of this story-along with the fact that there was a way to highlight the concepts of trauma, grief, healing, and love. If Lisbon was going to be duty bound to stay, I wanted Bosco to be a kind, loving (Marty Stu, if you will) type character that made you root for them because through those interactions, Lisbon learned what she could expect, deserve, and desire while growing into a woman who was a survivor. I wanted her to grow and break free, so this is how a fun idea about a wild & reckless Jisbon romance turned into a much deeper, more introspective story-not to be overly presumptuous about how readers feel about this story. I even toyed with a version of this story where it just wasn't a happy ending at all: she was duty bound to stay but spent her life longing to be with that boy she met at the carnival. In the end, I wanted to talk about Lisbon, who's faced trauma and abuse, finding love and happiness. Having Jisbon come back together after 40 years was an idea I got late in the planning process. Even if we didn't need Jisbon to have a complete story, I wanted to explore this dynamic of two people who've lost spouses and children coming together. I wanted to briefly explore these two grieving together a bit before moving forward together in a new chapter ("adventure" was the word I chose to use here since Lisbon was an avid reader) that builds upon, but does not cancel, the ones that come before-just like life. Again, thanks for reading! I realize this story required an open mind for a lot of readers early on, but I hope this story hasn't disappointed!