The bags were packed, and Jackie was leaning on the doorframe, looking wistfully out the window at the big city which had only been home for a month. Booker was taking down the last of their photographs. He noticed the tears in Jackie's eyes and set down the framed pictures in a box.

"Hey," he said, drawing her into his arms. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Jackie said, wiping her eyes with a too-long sleeve. She was wearing Booker's Yankees sweatshirt, which he had bought at their first major-league game. It hung huge on her slender frame, but Booker thought she was beautiful anyway. "I was just thinking, you know? It seems like we started a lot of dreams here and never got to finish them."

Booker kissed her on the top of her head. "Yeah, I know. But you know what? Maybe it's better this way. Maybe it's showing us we're meant to be in Wilsted."

Jackie couldn't help but sniff. "What about the baby?"

Booker held her tighter. He knew how deeply wounded Jackie was since the hospital. The doctors had confirmed that the miscarriage had nothing to do with Jackie's ability to carry a child, that it was the fall that had ended the pregnancy. Even so, Jackie felt that she had lost a part of herself that day, and for a while she had done nothing but cry.

Lately she had been better, and Booker's call that they were coming back to Wilsted had produced much joy in Wilsted. Wood had saved Booker's position, re-hiring Spencer for a temporary assignment.

"The flight's in two hours," Booker said, looking at the clock. "Taxi should be here in ten minutes."

"Okay," Jackie answered, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "I'm ready. How about you?"

Booker nodded, cupping her face in his hands. "We're going home, Jackie. It's all gonna be okay now."

And despite her sadness, Jackie smiled. She could believe him.

* * * *

^Flight 185 to Raleigh, North Carolina, now boarding at Gate 2,^ the announcement came, and Booker and Jackie looked at each other.

"Here we go." Jackie took Booker's hand and they walked through the gate.

The flight was short, only an hour and a half, and Jackie fell asleep almost right away. Booker glanced at her now and then, admiring how beautiful she was, and how changed she was.

Eight years ago, Jackie was an exuberant, athletic girl with waist-length hair and a smile that could outshine the sun. She was still that girl, but with a streak of iron in her that seemed tangible. He missed the innocence that had lighted Jackie's eyes when they were younger, but he loved the woman just as much and more. Booker sank into his thoughts and time passed.

They landed in Wilsted twenty minutes later. Jackie awoke with a start as the plane touched ground. "We're home," she said, looking at Booker. "And I was so comfortable."

Booker laughed. He led Jackie out into airport and waved at the assembled friends. Wood, Spencer, Jett, Kayla and JB with their parents, Riley, and Miz Corretta were there, smiling, and they gathered Booker and Jackie into a huge bear hug. "We missed you," Miz Corretta said.

"Lord knows we could have used you lately," Spencer put in, shaking Booker's hand. "We've been swamped with paperwork. The trial for Amanda just finished."

Jett and Kayla exchanged a glance, and looked away quickly. The trial had been quick and easy, and Amanda was sent to reform school in Raleigh. It was over, and neither of them wanted to revisit it.

"All right, let's get you two settled back in again," Wood said as they all piled into different cars. Jackie's car had been left in the police station garage, and her lease on the house had been continued, so they dropped Booker and Jackie off at Jackie's house. The bags were left with them, and many warm hugs and handshakes. Miz Corretta invited them for a "welcome home" dinner at the Jackson house, which they gratefully accepted.

When all was said and done and everyone driven away, Booker looked at his girlfriend. "Now what?" he asked.

"We unpack," was Jackie's reply, and she picked up her bags and unlocked the door. Booker followed her inside and into her room. Jackie sat down hard on the bed and looked around her room. It looked much the same, just minus some furniture, which would be brought back in by movers.

"So we're home again," Booker said, sitting beside her. "Are you okay?"

"Just tired," Jackie answered. She looked up at her boyfriend. "Are you going back to your house tonight or do you want to stay here?"

Booker drew her into his arms. "I think I'll stay here for tonight. You look like you could use some company. Besides, I've gotten used to having you beside me at night." He kissed her on the forehead. "Feel like lunch?"

Jackie nodded. "Let's get pizza or something." She stood up. "I'm too tired to unpack now."

Booker took her hand as they left the house. He twined his fingers in hers and smiled at her. "Look, maybe we should talk about this whole separate house thing."

Jackie looked up at him. "I was thinking about that too," she admitted. "We lived together in New York and it worked. So the only logical thing is to move in, huh?"

"Which house?"

"Which one is bigger?" Jackie had been over to his house many times, but this question hadn't come up.

"Yours," Booker answered. "I've only got one bedroom."

Jackie had two, but the second one was being used as her music room. Her keyboard was in there, the table scattered with sheet music, the floor bare.

"Okay," Jackie said, and the matter was decided. They went into Vinny's Pizzeria.

Two slices and a soda later, they were back on the sun-warmed streets of Wilsted, walking hand-in-hand to Freeport Street and South Avenue, their new home.

Jackie liked the sound of that. Their new home. Everything was coming together.