Tales of A Grandmother

by mcj

NOT MOVIE-VERSE It's Grandma's birthday and tonight she's leaving no story untold. STORY COMPLETE

17. CHAPTER 8 PART 3 WORDS OF WISDOM FROM ...

Author's Note – Thanks again to all the people who continue to encourage my writing in their reviews. Particular thanks to my friend Lady Viva who continues to be my sounding board. So what does dear old Dad really know? Read on … mcj

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CHAPTER 8 - WORDS OF WISDOM FROM THE BILLIONAIRE

JEFF TRACY - PART 3 - THE GOLDEN YEARS

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I wish my Mother would stop looking at me like that. I've never been comfortable when those dark blue eyes hold mine.

At the moment she's sipping her coffee and trying not to make it look obvious but I can tell simply by the expression on her face that she knows I've been thinking about Lucy.

And she's worried.

How do I know?

Mother always bites her bottom lip when she's worried and let me tell you she's biting her bottom lip now. It's the only thing that ever gives her away. The rest of the time you wouldn't know what the heck she's thinking. For all a man can tell, that Mother of mine could be up to anything; planning to swim the English channel, blasting off solo in Thunderbird Three or simply retiring to the kitchen to bake one of her famous apple pies.

But not when she bites her lip. There she goes again.

Yep she's worried.

I can almost hear what's going through her mind at the moment too.

"I wish you'd talk to me about her Jeff. You know it's not healthy for you to bottle things up inside. "

That's all Mother ever says and as far as I'm concerned she can keep right on saying it too. I'm not talking to her about Lucy. How I feel is private and all the talking in the world isn't going to help me get over her.

Naturally Mother doesn't agree so I make a silent point regarding my stance by deliberately averting my eyes and starting up a conversation with Scott.

Tracy Enterprises has a conference coming up in New York in a couple of week's time and it's one of those conferences where Jeff Tracy himself needs to make a personal appearance. Normally Scott attends the conferences on my behalf leaving me free to run International Rescue but this time there's a lot of major issues on the New York agenda and I'm afraid our roles will need to be reversed.

So as the two of us mull over the details, I see her frown and bite her lip again. Lord how does she manage to do that? How could she possibly pick up I've noticed the stray curl near Scott's left ear and started to think about Lucy?

"Looks like you'll be needing a hair cut soon sweetie." she intentionally comments.

As Scott startles and runs his hand through his hair I turn my head to look at her.

Our eyes meet again.

Touche Mother.

I know you know what I'm thinking and yes you're absolutely right

I hear myself sigh as I picture those beautiful chestnut curls.

God I miss her.

Almost automatically Mother's hand reaches out and softly squeezes mine.

"I know you do sweetie." her eyes gently soothe. "You'll never stop missing her."

You know I've often wondered where Mother gets her powers of intuition from. She always seems to know if something's not right or if one of us is feeling down. That's when you feel the comforting hand or hear the quiet advice.

However, unfortunately she also seems to know when someone is planning to do something they shouldn't be doing too. Once she gets an inkling of possible misdeeds, there is definitely no comforting hand for the culprit and the advice she gives is anything but quiet.

"Alan." she suddenly blurts.

My wild-child's brilliant blue eyes startle and move away from Tin-Tin.

"Yes ma'am?" he asks innocently, focussing those eyes on his elderly Grandmother.

"After Dinner I'd like both you and Tin-Tin to stay back and help me tidy things up in the kitchen," she instructs in her direct and "don't you argue with me" voice.

Alan nearly chokes.

"Is there a problem with that son?" she frowns as the boy looks towards Tin-Tin with dismay written all over his face.

It's hard not to let my guard down and chuckle at his disappointment. By the looks of things Mother has just effectively thrown their plans for an evening soiree into complete and utter disarray.

"Umm …of course not Grandma …" he stammers. "Tin-Tin and I were just thinking about going for a walk on the beach together that's all. Err…but it's OK of course ma'am. We can go later… you know … after we help you."

Mother shakes her head and plays the game like an expert.

"Oh no dear it will be far too late for the two of you to be thinking about walking then. You've got to head back to Thunderbird Five with your brother first thing in the morning and it's very important a youngster like you gets his rest."

Alan's eyes flicker unhappily. Well thank you Mother. That's the first sensible thing I've seen you do regarding those two in months.

My Mother is truly an amazing woman and I can honestly say nine times out of ten she pretty well does know everything about what's going on around here or in Alan's case now, what isn't going to be going on.

But contrary to what they all believe, she's not the only one with knowledge in that Department.

Let me assure you, Jefferson Grant Tracy didn't get to where he is today without possessing some sort of intelligence and superior sixth sense. Granted I've worked myself to a standstill these past twenty-one years trying to forget Lucy but it has never meant for one solitary minute I've ever been blind, deaf or dumb to what's been going on in my own household.

I just simply don't let on.

Dad had a long talk with me not long after Scott was born and in amongst a lot of other things, he also gave me some very valuable advice.

"Bein' a good Father ain't simply a matter of bein' responsible for your actions in the bedroom son." he told me gravely. "It takes a lot of work and effort to be a Daddy and there are a few things you gotta learn right from the very beginning. "

Rule number one. A good Father sometimes needs to be blind.

"See what you need to see Jefferson and forget the rest." was his advice.

So I "never saw a thing" when Gordon started to experience some rather dreadful mishaps not long after playing one too many of his practical jokes. His loving brothers couldn't possibly have had enough and started retaliating … could they?

Then there was Rule Number two. A good Father sometimes needs to be deaf too.

"Hear what you need to hear and forget the rest." he said.

Therefore I "never heard a thing" when a certain eldest son of mine threatened to knock his two little brothers "goddamn lights out" after he caught them smoking down behind the wood pile in our old home town of Boston. My two youngest boys smoking? Never!

The final rule and one Dad said was the most important rule of all was the need for a Father to play dumb when the situation warrants it.

Oh yes.

Very dumb.

Scott ditching his million dollar Air Force jet? Really? I never knew a thing.

Virgil hiding pictures of his mother in the attic? All news to me.

John's silent conversations with the evening star? Don't be silly. Why would he do that?

Gordon and Jezzica Parker's love tryst in my bed? Tryst? What tryst?

Alan and Tin-Tin's relationship? No they're just friends.

You see I've chosen to play "dumb" about all of these things over the years because I believe it's been in the best interests of the boys for me to do so.

However I warn you. I may be "dumb" but I'm certainly not stupid.

Virgil was the first person this evening to find that out and once the other four see him bringing down his artwork from the attic to show me, they'll be starting to worry exactly what dear old Dad might know about them too.

Scott might finally begin to wonder if I know about him totalling the Air Force jet and if he decides to swallow his pride and ask me I'm going to look him straight in the eye and inform him I knew about it all along. But I'll also add I didn't say anything because I believe the embarrassment of being busted in front of the whole defence squadron by his Colonel and threatened with removal from Red Flag was punishment enough.

John on the other hand will always think I'm dumb. He'll never give me the opportunity to say I know about his conversations with the evening star and I'm never intending to raise the issue with him either. Quiet and introverted, sensitive and astute, he disguises a kind of fragility underneath that handsome, blonde exterior. It's a fragility Lucy always stressed would be alluring and masculine as he grew; something I very often forgot. However if he ever did choose to tell me I think I would reply that I always knew. I empathise with his feelings of loss more than he'll ever realise and one day I'd really like to tell him that.

Gordon's love tryst? Well if he's brazen enough to admit to that one I'll definitely be surprised. If ever there was a borderline case for me not being blind, the love tryst was it. Ditching jets and painting pictures is one thing; rolling around shamelessly with a young woman in your Father's bed is another.

However I'll continue to be blind to what happened because young Jezzica Parker died in his hydrofoil accident not long after. She was a beautiful girl and I know Gordon was very much in love with her. Now, like me, all he has left are memories; poignant, bittersweet memories of how it felt to make love to a woman who was truly special... and lose her.

But as for the other one … I'm only being blind about what's going on there because Mother says I have to be. At the moment the "two best friends" have adjourned to the kitchen to "get more coffee" but I've got no doubt in my mind the reason for the swift departure is to re-schedule their soiree after Mother just single-handedly ruined their plans. You know I swear I'm going to lay down the law to that boy soon. Talk about irresponsible!

I take an inward breath and prepare myself to call them back into the dining room but as I do I notice Mother frowning at me again. How the hell did she know I was thinking about that one?

I shake my head and exhale.

OK so I won't lay down the law Mother. I won't say anything to either of them all right?

A merry smile dances across her face and her features light up with the satisfaction she's got me over a barrel again.

Well mother you might think you know it all and you think you've got all the bases covered but let me tell you this right now.

I've certainly got news for you.

Dad taught me more than you think about the art of being a Father.

And all of you are about to find out just how much he taught me.

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Stage 5 - The Breakdown

The months that followed Lucy's death were dreadful and it is still difficult to bring myself to talk about them. It's not so much the pain it causes, I can deal with pain, but remembering how I behaved towards my children during that dark and terrible time is more than just difficult. It simply makes me cringe.

I never thought what happened after Lucy died could ever happen to me. Other people had breakdowns. Other people fell apart. Other people lost the will to go on.

But not me. Jefferson Tracy had taken Pioneer One to the moon and had been trained to handle any situation life happened to throw his way.

Well I was wrong.

Jefferson Tracy did fall apart and my behaviour as I did it was nothing less than shameful. Immersed in a sea of grief, I can only plead I wasn't in proper control of myself or my emotions and as a result I didn't realise what terrible suffering I was putting my kids through.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't do anything to hurt them physically, Lord I loved them too much to ever do something like that, but my inability to cope with what had happened to their Mother caused me to inflict a much deeper and more permanent hurt.

You see my little boys didn't just lose their Mother. They pretty well lost me too.

Jeff Tracy, the Daddy who once loved to talk and laugh and play became Jeff Tracy, Father; authoritative, regimented and stern.

Now that I think about it, the change in me started in the months before Lucy died. I was worried about money and struggling with the business and I simply didn't have time to play with my boys like I used to. Playing took time and time was money.

I didn't have a lot of patience with them either.

But the real transition from Daddy to Father escalated that fateful March evening when Lucy Evans left me alone to cope without her.

The first few days were a nightmare.

Scott became my shadow overnight, absolutely terrified something was going to happen to me too. My outgoing, self confident eight year old started following me everywhere. He was dreadfully insecure.

Virgil on the other hand didn't come anywhere near me. He stayed in his room, curled up on his bed, completely shattered.

At three and a half John just didn't seem to understand. He kept asking me over and over when his Mother was coming home and simply looked at me blankly when I said she wasn't.

Thirteen month old Gordon was fractious and unhappy and he got worse with each day that passed. He wanted Lucy, not me, and even though I was trying my best to take her place I wasn't being very successful.

Little Alan was still under observation in the hospital. There was now a new concern he might have suffered brain damage as a result of the lack of oxygen during his birth. My stomach churned when I got the call asking permission for him to undergo urgent and expensive tests.

I shrivelled within myself as one thing after another continued to go wrong.

When I had been faced with the countdown of the moon mission, scared as I felt, a part of me seemed to rise up from nowhere to take charge of the moment and do what was expected of me.

But not this time. I was still in shock with what had happened and completely numb with grief. At a time when I should have been taking charge of the household, making decisions and reassuring the kids I simply fell apart.

Instead of doing what was needed, I did other things ... stupid things … things I regretted for years and years afterwards. Things like destroy the thing Lucy loved the most - her beloved lavender garden.

I haven't got any excuse for it. All I can say to you is I just had to do it. The smell of lavender wafting through a house which now seemed so empty only made the pain of losing Lucy cut deeper. I couldn't tolerate inhaling that beautiful smell which reminded me so much of her.

I didn't care how lovingly she had tended it or how much pleasure it had given her, I worked myself into an utter frenzy tearing out the fragrant plants and flinging them as far away from me as I physically could. I didn't stop until every single plant was gone.

Then I looked around breathlessly at the bare earth, leaned on my shovel and sobbed my heart out.

When I stopped crying long enough to look around me I noticed a little boy sitting on the porch watching. A little boy with big brown eyes, chestnut hair and an impish Evans face.

Virgil.

Tears trickled down his cheeks even though he didn't make a sound. He had helped Lucy plant her lavender garden when we moved to Boston and he had loved it every bit as much as she did. And now, like his beloved Mommy, his garden had been taken away from him too.

I turned away without a word and strode into the house. I couldn't bring myself to say anything. If I did I'd have to look at him and every time I looked at him all I could see was Lucy.

And all I could do was cry.

I stood under the shower for hours but the smell of the lavender steadfastly refused to leave me. It seemed like it was indelibly etched into the palms of my hands in the same permanent way Lucy was etched into my heart. I sobbed harder and continued to scrub myself mercilessly.

My Father's words and stern upbringing reared up as I looked at my reddened face in the bathroom mirror.

"Tracy sons don't cry." I admonished myself, swallowing my tears and trying to tighten my jaw.

But my lips trembled and the tears continued to run down my face.

"Tracy sons don't cry." I said brushing them away vehemently. "Act like a man."

The upper lip stiffened and I forced the tears to stop.

I could almost hear my Father's gruff words of affirmation from above me. "That's better."

The days passed but the emotion I needed to let out built up inside me like a pressure cooker. I ignored the lump sitting in my throat and the pain tearing at my gut and stupidly refused to succumb to my basic human need to grieve.

Tracy sons didn't cry.

Mother was worried sick at how impassive I appeared to be and I became worse when I had to ask her to agree to sell the farm.

I couldn't afford to pay for the funeral, not even the most basic and simple one and no matter what I had to sell, even if it was the clothes off my back, Lucy was going to get a decent funeral.

"The farm has to be sold Momma." I said with absolutely no emotion in my voice. "And it has to be sold now."

Mother was dismayed at losing her home even though she had agreed to make a quick and permanent move to Boston to help me with the children.

She offered to lend me the money for the funeral if I'd reconsider. I point blank refused and demanded we sell the farm immediately. Luckily Bill and Katie were happy to buy it but Bill explained it would take him more than just a couple of days to get the money together.

"I'm sorry Jeff. I know why you need the money. "he apologised."But Katie and me ain't in a position to give it to you up front."

Mother again offered to pay for the funeral.

This time I was forced to swallow my pride and accept.

I had no cash. The Bank kept taking it as fast as I made it. With the debt from the stalled Asian expansion hanging over my head the situation with the Company was hopeless.

The lump in my throat got bigger and was now so bad I could hardly swallow. The pain in my gut had become excruciating and it was causing me to almost double over.

But Tracy sons didn't cry.

The arrangements for Lucy were made and Mother began to worry about the older children and how they were going to deal with the funeral. It didn't help when I refused to discuss anything to do with it and continued to remain emotionless and detached.

"Jefferson … talk to me." she begged as I sat in silence night after night staring at the wall. "Please stop bottling up how you feel."

"I don't want to talk." I replied with a face of stone. "There's nothing I want to say."

She tried to put her arms around me but I shrugged her away angrily.

"Look Momma just leave me alone will you!!!" I ranted rising to my feet.

"Baby please don't do this to yourself." she whispered in despair as I pushed past her on my way out of the house.

My cold and unemotional state was one thing but my see-sawing behaviour was now another.

The day before the funeral I really went over the top.

Faced with the reality of saying my final goodbye, I stormed around the house like a madman removing absolutely every photograph of Lucy I could find…photographs of the earlier and more happy times; photographs of our wedding; photographs of her with the boys. One by one I tossed them angrily into a big cardboard box and threw the box upstairs in the attic.

I didn't want to be reminded of what I had lost. I didn't want to be reminded I was now alone with five kids to raise. I didn't want to be reminded of anything to do with Lucy at all.

My little boys followed me around and watched me do it.

"Tracy sons don't cry do you hear me?" I barked when I caught sight of Scott's eyes overflowing. "You're the eldest. You should know better."

Scott nodded and lowered his curly head.

"Yes Daddy." he murmured in a tiny and desolate voice.

The five year old with the big brown eyes, chestnut hair and impish Evans face was far too upset to hear me. I had just thrown the photograph of him and his Mother sitting at the piano into the box and shattered the glass into a thousand pieces.

"Go to your room if you can't stop that nonsense Virgil." I snapped as he sobbed in front of me openly. "I just told you Tracy sons do NOT cry."

Poor little Virgil. He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes but the tears kept right on coming. In the end it was all too much for him and the sobs began to escape once again. Scott quickly took his hand and led him away.

Dear God I almost can't bear to think about it. I made such terrible mistakes with the kids back then.

The mistakes only got worse too. Lucy's funeral was the next one.

Tracy sons didn't cry.

I said it to myself over and over again throughout the service. I didn't cry but I was a complete and utter mess. I didn't acknowledge anyone other than with a devastated nod of my head. I don't even remember who was there. All I knew was that I was saying goodbye to the only person I had ever loved from the bottom of my heart and I didn't want to see her go.

And then the mistake I have never forgiven myself for.

Scott broke down next to me at the cemetery after being so terribly brave throughout the service. If ever a man should have been proud of his son, it was that day. The poor kid stood alone beside his Mother's casket and read a passage from the Bible without missing a word. He returned to sit beside me trying not to cry. He stood in silence holding Johnny's hand while I woodenly shook people's hands outside the church. He courageously accompanied me to the grave. But that was where his bravery ended. There was only so much an eight year could take and when they began to lower his Mother into the ground right in front of his eyes, the poor little boy dissolved completely.

"No Momma." he sobbed as the casket disappeared from view.

I put my arm around him and tried to comfort him and as I did my eyes somehow came to rest on Virgil. He was crumpled in his Grandmother's arms and was even more distressed than Scott. Mother was clutching him tightly and trying her best to quiet his heart-wrenching sobs.

I took one look at those brown eyes and had to turn away. I could see he wanted me to hold him too and I should have called him to come to me … I know I should have …but the truth is I couldn't bring myself to do it. Looking at him only gave me pain and with the lump in my throat and the pain in my gut I couldn't tolerate any more pain.

My eyes turn to look at him now. Yes I'm STILL waiting for Alan and Tin-Tin to "bring in the coffee". I swear if they don't get back in here soon....

Virgil is such a handsome young man with his big brown eyes, chestnut hair and impish Evans face. I love him dearly and he has never given me anything but unconditional love and respect in return. So how could I have done that to him when his Mother died you ask me?

I wish I knew myself. He was little more than a baby when Lucy was taken away and all he wanted was to be held by his Daddy and reassured everything was going to be all right.

And his Daddy failed him.

Grief is such a painful journey.

After the funeral was over Mother drove me to the maternity hospital. Even though the family was distraught and devastated, we had to face up to the full extent of our loss.

It was time to bring Alan home.

I've never felt more hopeless in my life as I did when I saw that baby again. He lay alone, tucked away in the far corner of the special care nursery, out of sight and out of mind. The sight of him really drove the truth home. This wasn't a thirteen month old baby. This was a newborn; small, fragile and totally dependent.

I peered anxiously at his tiny face. He was still dreadfully bruised but much to my relief I was informed he hadn't suffered any brain damage.

The sister in charge of maternity sat me down and systematically began to go over what I needed to do to care for him.

I honestly didn't listen and I never heard a single word she said. I was too busy staring straight ahead and contemplating the mammoth job which lay ahead of me. All the things Lucy used to do I now had to do plus try to find the time to work and provide for the five of them. I didn't know how I was going to manage and I was absolutely scared to death.

"Are you right with all that Mr Tracy?" she enquired.

"I think so ma'am." I replied in a shaky voice knowing full well I didn't have a clue.

Then she led me to the storeroom at the end of the corridor and handed me Lucy's suitcase. Into my other hand she quietly pressed a white envelope.

I lowered my head and stared at the floor trying to deal with what I knew was inside it.

Twenty-one years on I still haven't dealt with it. I've never opened the envelope she gave me to this day. It lies, still sealed, in the attic.

Yes I know what you're thinking. Alan deserves to see the one and only picture of him with his mother and God willing, one of these days I'll be able to bring myself to show him.

But not until I think he's ready to deal with it.

Yeah … and I can tell you right now that day won't be until both of us are ready to deal with it.

The formalities of releasing Alan came to an end and the sister accompanied me back to the special care nursery so I could finally take him home.

She leaned over his crib and gently lifted him out. He stirred and opened two sleepy little blue eyes.

"I'm going to miss you little fellow." she said with a real and deep-seated emotion in her voice. "Now I want you to promise you'll be a good boy for your Daddy OK? He's up against it at the moment and needs you to make life easy for him."

She held him out to me and gave me a smile tempered with sadness as I awkwardly took him into my arms. I stood there not knowing what I was supposed to say next.

"Umm. … I'd like to thank you for everything you've done for me and my family ma'am." I eventually managed to mutter. "I appreciate it."

The words nearly killed me. I didn't want to say them. I really wanted to say I only brought Lucy here to have a baby and somehow the people in this place had managed to kill her.

But my impeccable upbringing didn't allow me to say something like that. Mom and Dad had raised me to be polite no matter what the circumstances were.

"If you can't open your mouth to say somethin' positive Jefferson, don't open it at all." had always been the rule.

Besides that, the guilt I was feeling didn't allow me to blame anyone. What had happened to Lucy wasn't the sister's fault, or the hospital's fault or even the surgeon's fault.

It was my fault.

If I had seen to myself when I was supposed to none of this would have happened.

The awkwardness continued.

"Well, I guess I'd better be on my way with him ma'am." I said bending down to pick up the suitcase in my free hand. "The other children are waiting in the car.

"All the best Mr. Tracy." she nodded walking with me towards the door.

And so at thirty five years of age, emotionally broken and on the brink of financial ruin, I left the hospital with my newborn son in my arms to restart my life as a single Father. I wasn't ready for what lay ahead of me. The children weren't ready for it either. But the six of us didn't have a choice. Lucy was gone and we all had to learn to live without her.

Then the stress began.

Alan was a very unsettled baby and cried for attention twenty four hours a day. It was always something different. If he wasn't hungry he had wind, if it wasn't wind, it was a diaper. If it wasn't any of it, he simply cried without reason. Mother said it was because no-one had held him very much during his first week of life and she guessed he needed to feel loved. Those words, even through she uttered them with the best of intentions, made me feel terrible.

I tried really hard to make up for it but even when I held Alan close to me he continued to cry. There was never a moment's peace.

Gordon grizzled and complained most of the time too. At first I told myself it was because he was still looking for Lucy but after a while it became evident he wasn't missing his Mother. He'd started to cut new teeth. He made no bones about the fact he was uncomfortable and the constant whining of a teething toddler coupled with the screaming of a hysterical newborn almost drove me to distraction.

The days turned into nights and the nights turned into days. It was all the same to me. I didn't sleep and I didn't eat. I refused to let myself grieve. I didn't communicate with the older kids or with Mother. Johnny kept crying for Lucy. I had deadlines to meet with the business.

The volcano bubbled and it was obvious something was about to give.

And when it did, which poor child do you think was on the receiving end of it?

You're right.

Virgil.

One morning he made the dreadful mistake of trying to play his Mother's piano after I had been up all night with the babies.

I know the child was only trying to create a bit of happiness for himself, Lord knows there wasn't any other happiness around him, but unfortunately it wasn't the way I saw it. I was physically exhausted and totally irrational and when I heard Virgil trying to play one of the tunes Lucy taught him on the piano it was the absolute end for me.

I completely lost my temper, stormed out of my makeshift Office and almost tore him from the piano. I swear I banged down the lid so hard the whole house must have shook.

"I'll have no more of that rubbish in this house." I shouted angrily at the little boy with the big brown eyes, chestnut hair, and impish Evans face. "Do you understand me Virgil?"

His bottom lip began to tremble but this time he knew better than to cry. He stood nodding his head in front of me without a word.

Luckily, and I really do mean that, Mother decided enough was enough.

She finally decided to step in and in her usual style didn't care what time of the day or night she did it.

At three o'clock in the morning there was a curt knock on my door as I underwent my usual struggle to feed and diaper Alan. I always tried to attend to his night feeds without waking anyone but nine times out of ten I always managed to wake up Gordon.

Sure enough when I opened the door there was Mother holding my wide eyed fourteen month old in her arms. Unlike his three week old brother who screamed and chewed ravenously on his fist, Gordon gave me a cheeky smile and held out his arms to me. I wished I could have found the energy to smile at him but I barely had enough left to drag myself back to the diaper change.

"I'm sorry he woke you again Momma." I apologised over the screaming. "Just leave him over there on the bed and I'll get to him next."

"Don't be so ridiculous." she frowned striding forward to grab herself a diaper. "Stop trying to act like some kind of Superman Jefferson because it's pretty damned obvious to me that you're not."

There was a disgruntled tone to her voice and normally I'd have taken notice of the warning but at three o'clock in the morning, no sleep and an important video conference coming up later in the day, I wasn't in the mood for a lecture.

"For God's sake I'm doing my best Momma." I snapped rudely.

Oh boy I shouldn't have said that. You can say your piece to Mother but you NEVER be rude to her.

Before I knew what had hit me I was ordered down to the dining room, handed the bottle to give to Alan and told to shut my mouth and listen. How my Mother could gently rock a toddler back to sleep in her arms and still bawl me out has to be the eighth wonder of the world.

And as it turned out she had every reason to be furious with me. As I held Alan in my arms and watched him drink his bottle, she told me what had happened in the house less than two hours before.

She had come downstairs to get a glass of water only to find my five year old sitting alone in the dark in front of Lucy's piano, head down, hands folded, grieving in silence.

"And before you say anything … DON"T." she warned. "That poor little boy is heartbroken. In case you haven't realised it he's no different to your other little boys. He has lost his Mother too and you're making no effort Jefferson ... none whatsoever to comfort him."

I rubbed my tired eyes.

"Mom..." I sighed.

"Don't you Mom me Jefferson." she warned. "Do you know what that child just said to me? Do you? He said he didn't know why his Daddy didn't love him anymore. I couldn't believe it. I damn near broke down and cried myself."

I moved around uncomfortably in the chair not knowing where to look.

"That isn't true - of course I love him." I said in a low and embarrassed voice.

"Yes he can certainly tell can't he? Tore out his lavender garden in front of his eyes, smashed his favourite picture, ignored him at his Mother's funeral, now this nonsense with the piano..." she stormed. "He's FIVE Jefferson... FIVE YEARS OLD. It's not his fault he looks like Lucy. You should be treasuring that child and loving him … not shutting him out like..."

She paused for a moment and then swallowed tearfully. "Like you're shutting out everyone else in your life who cares about you."

I didn't look up and I didn't reply. There was no guessing Mother was upset but it didn't make any difference to how she was delivering the reality check.

"You won't let me help you. You won't even tell me how you feel. Hell Jefferson look at you. You can't even stand up straight anymore." she pointed out with frustration. "You're buckling under the weight of this son and all you can do is push me away."

I stubbornly refused to admit she was right.

"I'm coping Momma." I argued.

"You are NOT coping." she argued back.

"I AM." I stressed fixing my eyes on hers with a growing anger at her interference. "And I won't have you or anyone else telling me that I'm not do you hear me?"

After a few minutes of tension-filled silence she stood up and shook her head in resignation.

"Well Jefferson for what the hell it's worth I don't think that you are. But no matter what you believe about yourself I can tell you something right now. My little Grandson certainly isn't coping and it's your fault that he isn't. He was very close to his Mother and unlike Johnny; Virgil's old enough to understand she isn't going to be coming back. What he doesn't understand is YOU and for the life of me he's not the only one at the moment."

"Thank you Mother and good night." I snapped making it clear to her that I was ending our conversation.

"Good night yourself." she said almost as abruptly as me. "It would do you good to think about what I've just said and do something about it."

She paused in the doorway with Gordon asleep in her arms.

"And please try to get some sleep Jefferson. You really do need it."

Jefferson. I always knew Mother meant business when she called me Jefferson.

Once I got Alan back to sleep, I made my way upstairs and climbed back into bed feeling weary and miserable. I rolled over onto my side and ran my hand slowly across the empty space beside me. The reality of the emptiness only made me feel worse. Lucy was gone and I would never hold her again. I reached out for her pillow and buried my face in it.

Virgil.

I'd been so ecstatic when Lucy informed me she was pregnant again. The pregnancy had been like a kind of moral victory over her stubbornness. She didn't want another baby until I came home from the moon but after months of pressure and dissent from me she begrudgingly agreed to have one. Believe me I didn't get Lucy Evans to change her mind about anything very often and when she conceived immediately it made the victory ever so much sweeter. Virgil was born looking exactly like her and I had been smitten with him from the moment I saw him. He was a beautiful child.

I thought about Mother's words to me in the dining room. If I loved him as much as I professed I did, I certainly had a funny way of showing it. My conscience ate away at me. Virgil was only a little boy and he couldn't help who he looked like.

I fell asleep with the pillow in my arms determined to put things right.

Trying to make it up to the child wasn't easy.

Virgil was very hurt and confused and I supposed I couldn't really blame him with the way I had been carrying on. He looked at me with apprehension when I called him to come to me and hardly said a word as I sat him on my lap and tried to set about rectifying things.

"You know Daddy loves you very much don't you Virgil?" I choked forcing myself to look into the big brown eyes of Lucy Evans.

Tears began to fill those eyes and I could tell he didn't believe me.

"Daddy does love you son." I repeated, anxiety tempering my every word. "He's just … well … finding things a little bit hard at the moment without Mommy to help him with the babies that's all."

"Yes Sir." he acknowledged almost as if he knew the answer was expected of him.

"Sir."

My heart dropped. Up until now he had only ever called me Daddy.

"I want my Mommy to come back home." he eventually admitted in a tearful little voice.

"Of course you do." I acknowledged and closed my eyes as he buried his chestnut head in my chest and began to cry. The pain in my gut almost tore me apart as I held him close to me. What sort of Father could have allowed this little boy to grieve alone for over three weeks?

The answer was easy I'm afraid; the same thoughtless Father who forgot his eldest son's ninth birthday.

I warned you that I made some horrendous mistakes raising the boys but forgetting the significance of the fourth of April that year was one of the biggest mistakes of all.

Scott had been so good for me since the funeral. He didn't cry after his Mother in front of me and he didn't talk about her either. He got himself ready for school, did his homework as soon as he got home, helped his Grandmother with the chores and quietly put himself to bed. I guess in a lot of ways he was too good because with the strain of everything else going on around me, it was all too easy to overlook the one child who wasn't giving me any trouble.

On top of that the fourth of April that year was a horrendous day for me with the Business. I lost two valuable contracts for failing to meet a promised deadline. Neither of my clients wanted to hear my wife had just died and I was struggling to cope with a newborn baby and four other children. They only wanted their deadlines met. The Bank rang later in the day to say an interest payment was two weeks overdue. Alan screamed his head off all day long and I couldn't to get to the new aircraft design the Air Force was hammering me for.

I was too preoccupied with myself to watch my eldest son's face crumble when there was no birthday cake on the table at supper time. I was too busy planning how I was going to cover the slack from the two lost contracts to notice his disappointment when there were no party games or presents. I was too worried about finding the money for the bank to see the tears in his eyes as he excused himself and went to bed nearly three hours earlier than normal.

And I was too worn out to hear Virgil break the rules in the middle of the night to play "Happy birthday "for him on the piano trying to make him feel better.

But Mother heard.

And Mother was appalled.

"Oh my God Jeff." she whispered in dismay, dragging my exhausted body out of bed yet again and motioning me towards the stairs. "He's crying his eyes out down there. How could we have forgotten him like this?"

I hung my head again as I trudged wearily downstairs. Now I had another blot on my copybook. What a terrible Father I was. Lucy would never forgive me for this one.

Birthdays in our house had always been the most important celebrations of the year. She had always made sure they were memorable and fun even when we were struggling. There had always been crazy party games to play. There had always been little inexpensive presents. And most importantly there had always been a birthday cake with candles followed by a great big hug from Daddy.

But today there had been no big hug from Daddy.

Daddy hadn't even remembered.

The days rolled on and so did my path to self destruction. It took every ounce of strength I had just to drag myself out of bed and face the misery of another day. Every day it was the same; the crying, the endless diaper changes, the sad little faces, the mess which used to be the business.

And the same wretched pain in my heart.

I began to drink to numb myself.

But even with an overload of Scotch running through my veins Alan still seemed to scream louder and more often, Gordon was still into everything and Johnny still continued to cry after Lucy and be difficult. I was too exhausted to design. I was too worried about money to sleep. The lump in my throat made it impossible to eat.

But I was convinced I was coping.

It had now been three months since Lucy died and I was in a bigger mess emotionally than when I first lost her. Mother was beside herself with worry and begged me to seek professional help.

I refused.

I was coping I told her through gritted teeth and for the last time I didn't need anybody's help.

.... Until one warm night in the middle of June when it all came crashing down.

I had been working non-stop for forty eight hours on a contract which was really important to the future of the American operation. Mother had told me earlier I looked terrible and pleaded with me to go to bed and get some badly needed sleep. I declined because I had a deadline to meet. I'd lost the last two contracts for failing to meet deadlines and we couldn't afford for me to lose any more contracts.

Alan woke around seven o'clock and started crying for his bottle.

I rose from my desk, went into the kitchen and pulled a bottle out of the refrigerator.

I walked upstairs and into my bedroom while I waited for the bottle to heat.

Alan stopped crying when he saw me and flailed his arms in anticipation of being fed.

I stood looking down at him in his cot for what seemed like forever.

I took him out.

I changed his diaper.

I picked him back up.

The room swam.

Alan started screaming.

And that's the last thing I remember.

Three days later I woke up in small darkened room with Mother sitting in a worried silence beside my bed.

"Where? Where am I?" I croaked, my bleary eyes slowly moving around the room.

"You're in the hospital sweetie." she replied reaching out to take my hand. "You've been under sedation here for nearly three days now."

In response to my dazed and disjointed questions the story of what had happened to me unravelled.

Mother said she became worried when I didn't return to the kitchen to get Alan's bottle, particularly when she knew Alan wasn't a patient baby. She decided to go upstairs to check on things when his screaming became louder. It was then she found me sitting on the floor, my eyes wide-open and sightless, crushing Alan to my chest. She told me I was sobbing my heart out and saying over and over again "Tracy sons don't cry."

"Son you've suffered a nervous breakdown." she went on trying to stem the tide of her own tears, "…and the Doctor told me a few moments ago it's going to be a long time before you'll be able to get back on top of things again."

I closed my eyes and bit my trembling lips together. When did this nightmare ever end?

"Why Luce?" I remember thinking. "Why are you letting this happen to me?"

"You need food. You need rest. You need counselling." Mother stumbled on.

And then she dropped the bombshell. Above all I needed to forget about the business.

"You've got to learn to deal with what's happened to you Jeff." she insisted before lowering her voice and swallowing. "Even if it means losing everything you and Lucy worked so hard for."

"No Momma." I murmured in dismay. "Please … I can handle things. I … I can. Just give me a few days to …"

But Mother wouldn't hear any more.

"Stop it Jeff. You're not capable of handling anything at the moment." she said firmly. "You can't even handle yourself. You nearly crushed that little baby with your bare hands the other night and you would have if I hadn't found you when I did. Now I'm sorry to be so blunt with you sweetie but both your Doctor and myself have decided you're going to stay in here until you get a grip on things and there is absolutely NO room for you to negotiate."

I closed my eyes again as she persisted. I hadn't realised the extent of my deterioration until now.

"You've lost nearly a third of your body weight. You've done nothing but cry since you've been under sedation. You're ill Jefferson and the only way you're going to get better is if you tear down the barriers you've built to shut out your feelings and let people help you. "

Then the strongest message of all.

"Because if you don't listen to me this time son, it won't only be Lucy you'll find you've lost." she warned. "You'll be losing your children too."

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Stage Six – The Recovery

Mother's final words that day changed everything. As far as I was concerned nothing meant more to me than my children; not even the business Lucy and I had built together from nothing. I loved all five of them from the bottom of my heart and I was prepared to do anything to make sure I didn't lose them.

I spent almost six weeks in hospital and during that difficult period Mother raised the children alone. I don't know how the heck she managed it but as with everything that Mother takes on, she simply gritted her teeth and struggled through.

She always looked tired and pale when she came to visit and I felt guilty she was being forced to shoulder all of my responsibilities. However she declined to discuss anything to do with herself. All she cared about was me, how I was feeling and if I was learning how to come to terms with losing Lucy.

Finally after weeks of pretty well solitary confinement I was allowed to come home but with a stern warning from my Doctor to continue to care for myself properly or I'd soon be coming back.

"DADDY!!!!!!" was the excited chorus from Virgil and John as I came through the front door with my bag.

I hugged each of them individually, followed by baby Gordon who toddled down the hallway with his arms outstretched the moment he heard my voice.

"Grandma taught me to set the table Daddy." Virgil said proudly.

"And Grandma taught me how to tie my shoes." John piped up.

"That's wonderful!" I enthused tousling their hair. "You've both grown into such big responsible boys since I've been away haven't you?"

Their eyes shone with pride in themselves and they nodded their heads together happily.

"Hello Daddy." came a worried little voice from the other direction.

I turned around to meet the dark blue eyes of my eldest son. Unlike his younger brothers, apprehension lined his whole face. Mother told me he had been upset for weeks. He had witnessed my breakdown.

"Hello son." I smiled hesitantly, moving forward to wrap my arms around him. "I was wondering where you were."

"I was upstairs helping Grandma Sir." he replied hugging me with real affection.

"Ah ...I see…being a good boy for me as always eh? "I acknowledged looking down at him and smiling again. "Grandma's been telling me what a great help you've been to her while I've been gone."

The words of praise went completely over his head. Like Mother all he cared about was me.

"Daddy are you going to be OK now?" he asked anxiously.

"I'm getting there." I assured him. "Don't you worry about me son. I'm fine."

His face lit up with relief and he pressed his curly head against my body.

"I'm real glad Daddy." he murmured into my waist and hugging me again. "Real, real glad."

Later that evening and long after the children had been put to bed Mother brought Alan in to me to be given his evening bottle. The guilt I felt as she placed him in my arms was overwhelming.

"Hey there little guy." I said sadly looking into his vibrant blue eyes. "How've you been doin' without your Daddy?"

My four and a half month old baby son's eyes widened with recognition and almost from nowhere he gave me the most spontaneous, almost forgiving smile. I felt tears brimming in my eyes. He was such a beautiful baby and Lucy would have just loved him. The guilt reared up again. How could I have ever said I didn't want him?

"Humph ...you tell your Daddy you've been causing the same trouble you always do Alan Shepard Tracy." Mother commented with a frown. "You've been fussin' and fidgetin' and yellin' at the top of your lungs ever since he left the house haven't you?"

Her frown disappeared as he stuffed his fist in his mouth and gurgled at her with adoration. She smiled and leaned forward to tweak his chubby chin.

"And you know exactly how to get around your Grandma too don't you?" she continued as his smile grew wider. "Now you stop that flirtin' with me right this minute and tell Daddy what you've been up to since he's been gone."

"What's he been doing Mom?" I asked looking up at her with interest.

"Well our little Alan has finally worked out the night time is supposed to be for sleeping. It's taken him nearly five months to figure it out but for the past few days he's been going down at nine and sleeping all the way till four." she explained.

My face lit up. Nine until four. That meant I now had seven straight hours available to work without interruption.

"Oh no you don't Jeff Tracy!!!" she exclaimed somehow managing to read my mind. "That's when you're going to be sleeping yourself is that clear?"

There was a real firmness in her tone and the firmness remained as she continued.

"Now you'd better get yourself mighty comfortable in your armchair young man because you and I are about to have a serious talk about how things are going to be done around here from now on. I don't want to experience the misery of watching you fall apart again."

I opened my mouth to reply only to be cut short with a bottle being shoved into my hand for Alan and one of her very pointed warnings.

"Don't you argue with me Jefferson." she thundered.

I smiled and shook my head at her. After six weeks in hospital I had no intention of arguing.

The long and serious talk we had ended up forming the basis of a regimented contingency plan to ensure the survival of my young family.

Mother covered everything, when I should sleep, what I should eat, the new routine she had put in place in the house and lots of suggestions on how I could cope better with the children. She acknowledged I wanted to do everything for them myself but tried to make me understand that with everything else I had to do it was impossible.

"Lucy herself admitted she couldn't cope without help Jeff." she pointed out. "So please don't think it's a sign of weakness to admit the same thing to yourself. I moved in here to help you so I expect you're going to let me."

"I suppose so." I muttered with reluctance.

"I know so." was the authoritative reply.

Then she paused for a few moments as if trying to find the right words for what was coming next.

"Now." she began carefully. "I know you aren't going to like this but that's just too bad in my opinion. It has to be discussed whether you want to discuss it or not."

At my confused look she stopped sidestepping the issue and came straight out with it.

"We have to talk about what you're going to do about the business Jeff."

The conversation immediately became heated. Mother had been wonderful to me but there was no way in hell she was going to tell me what to do with the Company.

Wrong again.

"You get down off your high horse right this minute Jefferson and listen to what I have to say to you." she insisted. "I know I'm no business brain but I've been thinking long and hard about it for the past six weeks and from the way I see it you only have three options left."

"Which are?" I said in a real huff.

"Don't you take that tone with me." she warned. "You have the courtesy to hear me out please."

"All right then. "I replied in a voice laced with sarcasm. "Fire away Mother since you think you know so much."

Much to my surprise she leaned forward and gave me a nod of acknowledgement. "Very well then Jefferson; I will."

She held up one finger at me. "One … you forget about the whole thing now and find work elsewhere."

I looked at her stonily.

"No." I growled. "I happen to be good at what I do."

She held up two fingers. "Two …wait until you lose everything to the Bank including your home and then you forget about it."

This time I said nothing. Good or not, option two was the direction I was heading in at the moment.

She held up three fingers. "Three … Recommence your expansion into Asia."

My stony look changed to one of complete surprise. I just couldn't run off to Asia for six months. Who was going to take care of the kids?

"You know I'm no longer in a position to do that momma." I responded looking down at Alan. "I've got big responsibilities here and you know what Lucy thought about me shirking my responsibilities."

This time is was Mother's turn to say nothing.

"Besides …" I continued. "I'm stone motherless broke. I haven't got any capital left to kick-start anything."

"Yes you do. You have the money from the farm." she said forthright voice. "And I want you to use it."

My mind ticked over. I supposed I could. The markets were still there. I still had the engineering expertise. I'd done the research. It was simply a matter of injecting some funds to get the construction going again. But then I looked down again at the baby. Lucy wouldn't want me to leave him or any of the children. Family was everything and I was all they had now.

"I'll think about it Mom." I replied rising to my feet. "As you can imagine it's a lot for me to absorb at the moment."

"But you will think about it won't you Jeff?" she insisted somehow knowing it was my intention to eventually decline.

Her face had such a look of assertiveness all I could do was agree.

"Yes ma'am I promise I'll think about it. Now if you'll excuse me I have things I have to do."

As I went to leave the room with Alan in my arms Mother called me back.

"After you've put him down Jeff we still have one last thing we need to discuss." she said looking me straight in the eyes.

I looked away.

"No Momma. I don't want to talk about Lucy."

"Sweetie … you've got to let it out." she faltered in frustration but this time I was having none of it. I'd been forced to sit in a room for hours on end with a Grief Counsellor when I was in the hospital and it hadn't made a shred of difference. I hadn't talked about her then and I wasn't about to talk about her now.

"I know you think it will help me ma'am and thank you very much for the offer but like I said before... I've got things to do."

With that I walked away.

Yeah …

And I've been walking away ever since.

I thought long and hard about Mother's options and eventually came to the decision I had to take the third one. The only way I could manage to stay in business was to invest the capital from the farm in the Company and hoped the gamble paid off.

"I'll pay you back every cent Mom." I promised. "And I'll buy the farm back for you the very first minute I can afford it."

She disagreed with a sad shake of her head.

"No …Forget it son. The farm's old history now. Daddy knew you wouldn't keep it and I think it's more important we look to the future of this family don't you?"

I guessed she had a point. Living in the past was getting us nowhere.

My determination grew as I doggedly recommenced expansion into Asia. I flew myself to Tokyo month on, month off to supervise production. I didn't like leaving the boys but once I got myself over there and stopped worrying about them, the work proved to be very therapeutic. I didn't have time to think about Lucy when I was deep in thought about the business and I soon figured out the longer I worked during the day the less hours I had in the evening to remember. The hours I worked were crazy but it was certainly better than lying in my hotel room staring at the ceiling and wishing she would come back to me.

The months I spent at home were even busier. Trying to recover in Business and be Mother and Father to five kids wasn't easy. It was very draining trying to fit everything in and most of the time I felt I was out of my depth. However when it all became too much for me I would focus on my work and once I did I found I was better able to cope. It was only when I thought about Lucy and how unfair life had been to me that I started falling apart.

So I didn't allow myself to think about her.

But my little boys did.

Most of time they were good and as the months rolled on the three eldest started to laugh and play amongst themselves again. Sometimes you would think nothing had ever happened. But every now and then their little faces would fill with sadness and the silence in our home, once so full of love and happiness was awful. It was during those days they wanted to talk about "Mommy" and I had absolutely no intention of discussing her.

"Jeff you really need to start talking to them about Lucy." Mother stressed. "I listen to them when they need to let things out but they want to tell YOU how they're feeling."

As usual, the pig headedness and denial flared up. Any thought of talking about Lucy only brought the pain back and I had become very adept at shutting out my pain.

"I already know how they're feeling and there's no need for anyone to talk about it. They've suffered far too much with this already and to be quite frank with you Mother so have I."

Mother simply stood in front of me shaking her head in disappointment

"Son don't you understand? That's the very reason you do need to talk about her."

"No Mother I don't think YOU understand." I interjected firmly. "That's the very reason I do not."

And so it became an unspoken rule in the Tracy house. Nobody talked about Lucille. There were no photographs any more, there were no memories, and now there were no words.

Construction was completed in Tokyo three days before Alan's first birthday and I was able to return to America permanently. It was hard not to feel uneasy as I flew in over Boston knowing my entire future was on the line. It was make it or break it time for Tracy Enterprises. Everything I had was invested in the business.

Operations commenced immediately and as production in Tokyo went into full swing; my attention was diverted back to family matters.

Lucy's first anniversary was the first ordeal I had to face soon after arriving back in Boston. I couldn't believe a year had passed since I'd lost her but when Mother carried Alan down to breakfast with a party hat on his head I knew for a sad fact that it had.

"Is Alan having a birthday party Grandma?" asked Virgil, his eyes growing wide with excitement.

"No Alan is NOT having a birthday party." I growled before Mother even had the chance to answer him. "He's a baby and he even doesn't understand what having a birthday party means."

Virgil coloured and said nothing else.

I hung my head unhappily.

I didn't mean to sound so terse. I was only stating the facts. But irrespective of how I meant to sound, my conscience ate away at me immediately.

"There you go again; bottling up how you feel and taking it out on Virgil.

Mother glared at me for a few moments before taking the hat off Alan's head and smoothing down his blonde curls. The other little faces around the table grew sad. The lump rose up into my throat at the sight of them and the pain in my gut returned. But I didn't relent. Mother might have wanted to find something to celebrate on the twelfth of March but I most certainly didn't.

After breakfast I took Scott, Virgil and John with me to the cemetery. The four of us stood beside Lucy's grave under a grey and threatening sky.

Twelve months on, I still found it hard to hide my devastation whenever I came to this cold and lonely place.

"Hey baby girl how's things? …" I began silently lowering my eyes to look at the unmarked grave. "I can't believe it's been a whole year now since you left me."

Then my confession started; a noiseless admission of my inadequacies over the past twelve months.

"I don't think you'd be too pleased with me at the moment Luce." I confided. "I haven't been doin' too good without you I'm afraid...still strugglin' to make ends meet...not copin' with the kids…even broke down and ended up in hospital during the summer."

I felt my eyes cloud.

"But I've been lucky baby. Momma's got me back on track again and since she has I've been tryin' real hard to raise the kids right. Honest …"

I could picture Lucy if she would have been in a position to say something. I'd be on the back foot for sure.

But almost as if it was a sign I felt warmth and reassurance as a little boy slipped his hand into mine. I looked down at the chestnut head, big brown eyes and impish Evans face.

It was Virgil.

I squeezed his hand gratefully and tried to smile at him.

"Thanks Luce." I acknowledged turning my attention back to the grave. "You always seem to know when I'm needin' your support."

After a little while longer I bent down and almost with apology laid a small, very ordinary bunch of flowers on the grass.

"I know these aren't much but it was the best I could do this year Luce." I swallowed looking at the humble bouquet.

My remorse grew. She had given her life for me and this was all I could manage to scrape up to give her in return.

"But next year I'll afford somethin' better baby…I promise... roses…a hundred beautiful red roses just like the ones you used to love. And a gravestone with your name and everything about you in gold ..."

I stopped myself. I didn't want to think about the lack of money and how hard things were. The lump in my throat was big enough as it was.

I stood up abruptly, turned away from the grave and began to walk briskly towards the cemetery gates.

"Hurry on boys. It's time we were getting home." I muttered motioning them to walk in front of me. "Grandma will be expecting us and Daddy has work he needs to do."

Work ... the magical answer to everything.

As soon as we got back to the house I immediately went into my Office and closed the door. I picked up the telephone and made calls. I reviewed contracts and set production targets. I made more calls. I pulled out my designs and worked on them furiously. I only lifted my head once.

It was when I heard my little boys singing happy birthday to their baby brother at supper time. Their sweet innocent voices affected me so deeply the tears came from nowhere. I put down my pencil, swallowed hard and looked out the window at the darkening sky. This time one year ago...

I wiped my face with the back of my hand and returned to my designs. I didn't want to think about what happened one year ago.

Work ... the only thing that could ease the pain.

The day came when even burying myself in work wasn't enough to ease it. It was the day Alan walked to me. The pain when Alan plucked up the courage to stop holding onto the furniture and take his first unsteady steps was unbearable.

You see Mother and I had made a pact when I was at my lowest and it was one I knew she expected me to honour. We had both agreed on the day Alan walked, I would take the final step in saying goodbye to Lucy and dispose of her belongings. Mother warned me it would mean everything. I've never understood the logic behind it, but according to Mother getting rid of a deceased person's belongings was an important step in the healing process. She made me promise I would do it when Alan walked.

And now ... Alan had walked.

Mother immediately produced the twenty large cartons she had been storing in the attic for over twelve months.

"This has to be done Jefferson." she directed as I stood facing her with my head down refusing to co-operate. "I know it and you know it."

"I'll even do it for you if you like." she offered.

"No you won't thank you Mother." I murmured unhappily moving towards the stairs and snatching up two of the cartons. "I can do it by myself."

I might have thought I could handle it but as it turned out nothing could have been further from the truth. Clearing out Lucy's closet turned out to be one of the hardest, most heart wrenching things I've ever experienced.

Everything she owned held its own special memory for me, even down to her individual items of clothing... that fabulous low cut dress she wore the night we conceived John ... her favourite blue pullover ... her beautiful wedding dress...

I stared at the wedding dress, closed my eyes and recalled every detail of how she looked in it ... how breathless I had been when I saw her ... how happy the two of us had been ... Mr and Mrs Jefferson Grant Tracy ... a marriage we thought would last forever.

Into another box went her personal items ... her pretty feminine underwear... the negligee she had worn for me on our wedding night. Memories of our love-making surfaced... the ache of anticipation, the depth of our passion, the ecstasy of it ... the feeling of holding her body in my arms when it was over. I hadn't had any of those sensations in well over a year.

I closed the box and wiped my face.

And I hadn't even wanted them.

Another box ... the crazy hats and brightly coloured scarves she always managed to find ... the little pink dresses for the baby girl I never managed to give her ... her shoes ... her perfume ... her books... her whole life ...

The tears poured down my face as all of it was thrown into the boxes, one thing after another.

And then the tug on my sleeve and the tearful blue eyes of Johnny.

"No Daddy!!!!" he pleaded, distress written all over his face.

John was still struggling to come to terms with the fact that his mother wasn't coming back to him and at four and half the sight of me throwing out the only visible memories he had left to hold on to was far too much. I bit my lip and told him to go outside and play with his brothers.

But he wouldn't do what I wanted. He may have been quiet and unassuming but he was every bit as stubborn if not more stubborn than his Mother. He stood in front of me crying his heart out and begging me to stop. I turned away, crying hopelessly myself and continued. What I was doing had to be done. Why couldn't the kid just let me do it?

"No Daddy!!!" he screamed again and began to pull things back out of the boxes.

I swear I would have lost control of myself and caned the kid except for a steady voice sounding at the door.

"Johnny. That's enough now."

Thank God for my Mother.

She called John to come to her and set about trying to explain. She told him it was her idea to get rid of his Mother's things, not mine. She said I needed to do it so my heart could get better.

"And we both want Daddy's heart to get better don't we Johnny?" she soothed holding both his hands in hers. When he nodded his head sadly Mother asked him to be a good boy for her and leave me alone to finish the job.

John obeyed.

The whole experience completely cut me up and after I placed the cartons outside to be collected the harsh realisation finally hit me.

"She's gone momma." I sobbed breaking down on the porch and stooping over the railing. "This time I know she's really gone."

Mother called me into the house and held me in her arms for a very long time.

"Come on sweetie. It's time to stop crying after Lucy now. "she soothed rocking me like a child."Things are going to get a whole lot better for you soon. You'll see."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Stage 7 - The Billionaire

Things eventually did get better in my life but I'm sorry to say initially they only got better with the Business. Whilst Tracy Enterprises clawed its way back from the brink to superiority as an Aerospace Company again, I continued to struggle on as a single Father... running the routine in the house like a military operation ... working ridiculous hours ... demanding my little boys act like men.

…And still steadfastly refusing to talk to them about Lucy.

"You can't blame a six year old for asking the question." Mother argued with me one night in the middle of the dining room. "Any more than you can blame Scott for answering it."

I swung around and eyed her furiously. I'd been in New York on business for nearly a full week and I hadn't appreciated coming home to be questioned by Gordon at the Dinner table as to whether what Scott had told him about his Mother dying was true.

"Scott's thirteen and he knows what the rules are around here." I flashed reaching for my belt. "And let me say right now he's about to find out rules are not meant to be broken."

Mother immediately stepped in front of me creating a human barrier between me and the staircase.

"And did you stop to think WHY he might have broken your ridiculous rules?" Mother fired back. "Gordon's no longer a baby Jeff. He's at school and he's observant. Why wouldn't he ask why his family isn't like everyone else's?"

"Our family IS like everyone else's Mother." I snarled.

"We aren't when it comes to our family situation and you know it. Young Gordon worked it out the very first day he set foot in elementary school. Of course he's going to ask questions about why he doesn't have a Mother when all of his friends do."

"Well it wasn't up to his brother to answer his questions." I stressed. "He should have told Gordon to come to me."

"YOU weren't here for the child to ask." she stressed back.

"That's no excuse for Scott breaking my rules." I snapped pushing past her and striding towards the stairs. "Lord knows what the hell he's told Gordon about Lucille."

Mother followed me in real anger.

"Scott only would have told him the truth Jefferson and so help me God if you go up those stairs and punish that boy of yours for simply speakin' the truth to his little brother I swear I'll wipe my hands of you as a Daddy."

Her voice was almost a growl of demand and I knew better than to ignore it. Mother rarely interfered with me disciplining the boys but she was certainly interfering now.

I swung back again only to meet her angry flashing eyes.

"Scott's a good boy." she said lowering her voice and trying to calm down. "He doesn't complain or give you trouble. I can't even recall the last time he even asked you for anything. He's always putting his brothers first and himself last and I'm not going to stand by and watch you march up those stairs and cane that child for nothing."

I stood there for a few minutes breathing deeply and trying to calm myself down too. I'd been dreading the moment when I'd have to inform the youngest two children about what happened to their Mother and hadn't been prepared for the fact they might find out before I got around to telling them.

No real harm had been done. I guessed I was over-reacting a bit.

My hand left my belt and I started to feel foolish.

"All right if it makes you happy Mother I'll just talk to him." I murmured before sighing in resignation. "And then I'll have to go and explain things properly to the little ones."

"You should be explaining things properly to all of them." came her disgruntled response. "Honestly Jeff you work yourself to death to provide everything for those children but you can't even provide them with the very basic thing they want."

"And what's that Mother?" I scoffed.

"Answers." she replied. "Why don't you answer their questions about their Mother and stop trying to run away from them. You might find once you do you'll be able to sit back and enjoy your children."

I looked her up and down and said point blank I did enjoy my children. I loved to talk to Scott about aviation and listen to Virgil playing the piano. I relished the evenings I spent watching the stars with Johnny. I even managed to smile every now and then when the youngest two got themselves into trouble and I had to pretend to be mad at them.

I just didn't do any of it very often.

I was always working.

"You're running away that's what you're doing." Mother pointed out. "Running away because all five of your boys have Lucille in them and you can't deal with the fact that they do."

She was right.

All the boys reminded me of Lucy in their own unique and special ways; Scott and Alan with their curly hair, Virgil, her mirror image; John with her articulate ways and Gordon who absolutely exuded her mischief from the very centre of his soul.

Well I could run away and hide behind my work when it came to Lucy but I certainly couldn't run away from what was about to happen in this family next.

The day came when I began to notice my eldest son was no longer a little boy. The transition seemed to happen quite suddenly. One month Scott was his normal proportionate self, the next he was towering over his younger brothers looking like a giant with ridiculously long legs and a voice that crackled and broke like nothing I had ever heard.

I knew there was only one explanation for this swift chain of events.

I swallowed.

Impending manhood.

Mother confirmed the diagnosis by complaining she had taken the legs of Scott's trousers down three times in the past eight weeks and they still looked too short when he wore them. "Not only that, have you seen the size of his feet Jeff?" she queried in amazement. "He's going to be a force to be reckoned with when the rest of his body catches up to him that's all I'll say."

Mother was lucky. Her concern only stemmed from the material side of what was happening to my thirteen and a half year old son. My stomach churned with inner dread. I knew like Dad before me I would have to deal with the rest of it.

It was time to face the inevitable … the infamous Father/son "talk" ... the facts of life ... Jeff Tracy style.

It took me a week to work out in my head exactly what I was going to say to him. I remembered the talk I'd had with Dad on the tractor and I swore I didn't ever want to subject my sons to something like that.

Dad had been so clinical ... "this is why it's done son"; so forthright... "this is how it's done" and so matter of fact ..."and this is the consequence if you do it ."

I wanted to Scott to know more than that and feel comfortable asking me questions about his body and what was happening to it. Dad had declined to answer any of my questions and I'd never been happy about that. I told myself things were going to be different with my boys and I would be prepared to answer any question they wanted to ask me.

I guess, for the want of a better word I wanted to be a "hands on", "upbeat" Dad.

With this in mind I slipped out of my Office one afternoon and headed to the nearest drug store. Part of the lecture was going to be about how a man protected himself if he needed to, Lord knows I'd learnt my own lesson the hard way, and I had decided it would be easier for Scott to understand me if I actually showed him what I was talking about. Package in hand I made my way home at the end of the day resigned to fulfilling my Fatherly responsibilities.

That night was like a comedy of errors unfolding.

It began not long after I got home with Alan very kindly "opening" the package for me when I was in the shower. By the time I was finished in the bathroom he'd opened the box, carefully examined the contents and taken it downstairs to his Grandmother. As you can imagine Mother nearly had a heart attack, quickly impounded the box and declined to answer any of his questions. Nothing was said until after Dinner when I went to get up from the table to return to my work.

"I believe I have something which belongs to you Jeff." she said rising to her feet and heading in the direction of the kitchen. I followed her with interest but my interest quickly turned to embarrassment when she reached up on top of the refrigerator and produced the box.

My face went one hundred shades of red when I saw it.

"Don't ask me how but your youngest son found them." she said shoving it into my hand.

She took a deep breath before continuing.

"Now Jeff ... I know it's none of my business and to be honest with you I'm very glad you're ... well ... socialising again ... but I really don't think you should be leaving things like this lying around for your sons to see."

I looked at her. What did she mean socialising again? I never went anywhere unless it was on Company business. After a few minutes the realisation dawned and I reddened further. "Mom ... they're… they're not mine ..." I began completely flustered.

Mother held up her hand. "Jefferson ... you don't have to explain yourself to me ..." she continued. "Like I said ... in a lot of ways I'm glad for you."

Now how does a man of forty explain to his Mother that he hasn't had sex in five years and isn't actively looking to have it in the foreseeable future either? Answer - with a great deal of difficulty. Mother had been pestering me to start dating again for the past two years and just couldn't get her head around the fact that I didn't want to replace Lucy. The sight of a package like this must have really lifted her spirits. If I hadn't been so embarrassed at the situation I'd found myself in, I think I might have even laughed.

However I eventually talked her into believing the box was in the house purely for the purpose of teaching Scott to be responsible.

"Well if you want my opinion he's too young to be even thinking about being responsible let alone being exposed to those … those things." Mother sniffed. "The boy's only thirteen."

In the disapproving silence that followed I pointed out Scott needed to be educated in the things he needed to know and if Alan hadn't have been so inquisitive she wouldn't even know I was doing it. Before she could open her mouth to argue again I put the box in my jacket pocket, excused myself from the room and called Scott to leave his chores and come after me.

Scott looked worried and glanced towards his brothers.

"Am I in trouble for something Sir?" he asked in apprehension as he followed me up the staircase.

Trouble was a most appropriate word for the boy to use but he wasn't the one who ended up in it I'm afraid. It was me. I don't know why but I completely fell apart when I started.

I mean, there was nothing for me to be nervous about right? I was only telling Scott what he was about to go through as he grew into manhood and what his capabilities would be at the end of it. It was all a part of life … the way the family name would eventually be carried on…a normal, natural thing for a man and a woman to do.

Yeah well it sounded like there was nothing normal about it by the time I finished.

To put it bluntly, despite his best intentions to be an "upbeat," uninhibited Dad, Jeff Tracy froze and literally "forgot his lines". This left him to fall back on the only other lines he knew... the clumsy, non-sensical words of his Father. Almost as if I had no control over myself out of my mouth came Dad's clinical ... "this is why it's done son" ; his forthright... "this is how it's done" and his matter of fact ..."and this is the consequence if you do it ."

Scott sat there looking at me dumbfounded. I'd just made it sound like the worst possible experience any man could ever have with a woman.

"Do … do you understand where I'm going with this son?" I stammered looking him anxiously in the face.

"Umm... I think I do Dad." he squirmed.

I sighed with relief thinking things were going well. My plan to be "hands on" Dad was launched as I nervously produced the box.

"Do you know how to use one of these son?" I asked him.

"Yes Sir." Scott replied but at my look of astonishment he quickly did a double take. "Err… I mean no Sir."

"Well." I smiled tightly trying to pretend this whole thing wasn't bothering me. "Make up your mind."

"No Sir I don't." he assured me and cringed in the chair as I proceeded to shove one into his hand as well as open one of my own.

I don't know about Scott but boy was I glad to get out of there. I felt like I'd been run over by a bus by the end of it and I really needed a long, stiff drink to recover.

But as usual not even that went right in this rabble I called a household. As I headed down the stairs to pour myself the drink I was met with the perfect end to a perfect evening.

"Daddy you tell Alan he has to share them water bombs with me." demanded Gordon as he wrestled with Alan against the side of staircase.

My eyes riveted on my five year old son.

"Water bombs?" I frowned. "Where in the blazes did you get water bombs?"

Alan reddened and shoved his hands in his pockets.

I walked over to where the two of them stood and held out my hand towards him.

"Hand them over Alan." I demanded with an insistent snap of my fingers. "I've told you before you're not to have things like that in the house."

"Aww Daddy." he scowled rummaging about in his pocket. "I wasn't gonna throw 'em at no-one."

I suppose I don't need to describe the look on my face when Alan handed over not one, not two but three of the items I'd just spent the last hour talking to Scott about. He'd obviously removed them from the box before taking it down to Mother.

"You'd better not have any more of these stashed anywhere is that clear?" I warned in exasperation, deciding right there and then I needed more than just a glass of scotch to settle my jagged nerves.

"No Sir." he sulked glaring at Gordon. "That's all I got."

Much to Alan's unhappiness I confiscated the offending objects and before any of the others started asking questions, shoved them into my own pocket.

The first scotch didn't help at all and I quickly poured another.

Glass in hand I flopped down on the couch and swore I was never going to put myself through anything like that again.

Then I looked at the ten year old playing with his computer game on the other side of the room and sighed.

Until the next time.

Fortunately the next time was still a good way off and I suddenly felt very grateful to Lucy for making me wait three years before we'd had baby number two.

But at ten years of age Virgil was already giving me more than enough things to think about and I was trying very hard to put into practice Dad's advice from thirteen years before.

A good Father needed to be blind, deaf and dumb when the situation warranted it.

And with Virgil I had one hell of a situation.

Up until now I'd been too absorbed in the Business to worry too much about what the boys were getting up to while I was away. They were always neatly dressed for school when I ate breakfast with them in the mornings and they were always fast asleep in their rooms when I came home from work late in the evenings.

Mother never said anything when I asked her if there was anything I needed to know about their days. All she ever told me was what was coming next, who needed to be where, what for, what day and for how long. If I couldn't fit it into my schedule she arranged to do it herself.

But she wasn't prepared to let me go back on my word once I had promised any of them anything. I was expected to deliver and deliver in full. Nothing was more painfully obvious than one Friday evening when I staggered in from work completely exhausted and told her I was skipping dinner and going straight up to bed.

"Oh no you're not." she frowned. "You promised Johnny you'd watch the big lunar eclipse with him tonight remember? The child's been looking forward to it all week."

Of course I had completely forgotten I'd promised and I immediately began to rattle off a hundred different excuses as to why I had to let him down. But resistance was pointless. I'd promised and Mother would see me keep my promise.

You see my Mother possessed another secret weapon to get her point across back then and that weapon was even more deadly than her straight-talking, matter-of- fact, down the line approach.

Her sweet grandmotherly voice.

"Now let me see dear…" she began in the sickly sweet tone, something I might add didn't suit her. "…how did that phrase of yours go again …you know Jeff … the one you tell your sons they should live by every day of their lives?"

I eyed her with disdain. I swear the woman should have been in the military and commissioned as Officer in charge of strategic war manoeuvres. She'd cornered me with my own words again and in such a comprehensive way I had no option but to fulfil what I'd promised.

"You know what the phrase is as much as I do Mother. "I growled light-heartedly. "A Tracy always keeps a promise."

She gave me a good-natured smile.

"Ah yes. That's it…fine advice Jeff…mighty fine."

It was hard not to be amused at such obvious manipulation.

"OK you win Mother." I laughed holding both hands up in the air. "Before you say anything else I'll admit I should be expected to keep my promises too."

"I knew you'd be thinking that dear." she acknowledged. "I'll go and heat your dinner and tell Johnny you're home."

I suppose you're wondering what this sequence of events has to do with the situation I found myself in with Virgil. Well it had everything to do with it. You see I'd also promised John he could view the lunar eclipse through a telescope and my old telescope was stored somewhere upstairs in the attic.

I toyed with not bothering to find it but one look at General Josie was enough to make anyone bother.

I hated the attic and I didn't go up there very often. It was pokey and stuffy and a man my height practically had to crawl on his hands and knees to find his way around. However if you wanted to find anything you hadn't used in over a year, the attic was the place you had to look. So there I was at eleven thirty in the evening; dead tried, feeling my way around under an old light bulb and looking for my telescope.

My eyes passed over box after box of old engineering textbooks, ream upon ream of notes I'd made during my time in the Space Programme and much of Mother's old memorabilia from the farmhouse. I eventually located the telescope but as usual it was stored in most inaccessible place possible. As I climbed over boxes and slowly inched my way towards it, I also saw something else. The old sideboard of Dad's had been moved and something had been jammed behind it; something I had never noticed before.

In response to my inquisitiveness I found a pillowcase full of sketches, dozens of them, each one carefully folded and placed in its own protective envelope. All of the sketches had Titles, some written in unsteady first Grade writing, others in perfect copybook hand. I knew only one of my children currently possessed handwriting of that quality.

Virgil.

The Titles of the sketches were simple and expressive, reflecting in only a few simple words the depth and magnitude of his feelings. Looking through the pages I could only sit in silent awe at how this child had been single-handedly dealing with his grief for over five years.

"Mommy and me"

Written in First Grade scrawl

It was a drawing of young woman holding the hand of a little boy; both with chestnut hair, brown eyes and great big smiles on their faces. The faces weren't the usual first grade standard. They had detail - detail I easily recognised. It was clearly Lucy and Virgil.

"Heaven."

More first grade scrawl and a picture of an unmarked grave shadowed against an eerie sky of grey. Virgil had been told Lucy was in heaven. I guessed he thought heaven was the graveyard.

"A Present from Daddy"

Written in second grade hand

A sketch of enormous depth showing Lucy's grave on her second anniversary. After a year of careful management and extremely hard work the Company was back on top again and I had been able to live up to the promises I'd made to her the previous year. The most expensive gravestone had been erected. A hundred red roses lay against it. The detail he had reproduced in the sketch was amazing, from the metallic gold lettering right down to the petals on the roses.

I opened one last envelope.

"Daddy "

Written as little as three months before.

The sketch was of me on my last birthday. The likeness, which he set in front of an abstract birthday cake with forty candles, was unbelievable. Virgil captured my sad far-away look like a master. The artistry was brilliant.

With the portrait was a verse.

"Today is Daddy's birthday and I wish that he would smile.

But God won't give him Mommy back not even for a while.

I prayed all day for her to come but in answer to my prayer

God still kept Mommy in heaven.

I guess he needs her there."

"Jefferson are you all right up there?" called Mother.

"Uh yeah ..." I managed to croak, completely overcome with emotion. "I'll be down in a minute Mom."

I read the verse again and looked at the sketches in my hand. I didn't know what the heck to do about them. He was such a talented child and the sketches were wonderful but I didn't like the idea he was being secretive about them.

All of a sudden from out of nowhere came the words of my Father.

"See what you need to see Jefferson and forget the rest."

As I pondered on those words my own instincts as a Father supported the argument. The boy was only ten and I wouldn't talk to him about his Mother. His unusual expression of his feelings wasn't hurting anyone and more than likely as time healed him he'd come right on out and show the sketches to me.

After a long and thoughtful deliberation I decided to put the sketches back behind the sideboard. As far as I was concerned I had seen nothing.

Sadly I've continued to see nothing for twenty one years and hundreds of canvasses later. Virgil's hopes, fears and anguishes still lie behind my Father's old sideboard.

And the pain he felt when he lost his Mother.

And ... errr..... one or two inappropriate reproductions of an old girl-friend I wish I hadn't seen.

"See what you need to see and forget the rest."

Lord I did a lot of that over the years that followed. A man could list a thousand instances.

I "never saw" Mother frown when I called Virgil upstairs on his thirteenth birthday to receive his "talk about life". I "never saw" Scott roll his eyes as he watched his younger brother follow me up the stairs. And of course I "NEVER SAW" the two of them outside on the porch later that evening doing a dreadful rendition of "Dad's demonstration" and laughing their heads off.

I smiled to myself from the shadows as I watched them. They didn't know I was there. I guess they forgot dear old Dad had gone out for a walk. Some of the things they were saying and doing were terrible but I wasn't about to interfere with their fun. Boys would be boys I supposed and at least I'd gotten the message across.

It was also around this time I learnt lesson number two.

"A good Father needs to be deaf when the situation warrants it."

Boy oh boy has Jefferson Tracy needed to be deaf at times.

Scott was a terrific kid. He was sixteen now, tall and handsome with a wealth of dark hair and the most dazzling dark blue eyes. He was extremely popular at school, especially with the girls, and after seeing some of the more err… well-rounded ones he brought home, both Mother and myself began to worry he might have started to think about putting "Jeff Tracy's talk about life" into practice.

Mother watched him like a hawk.

But no matter what he might or might not be planning, Scott was a first and fore mostly a Father figure. He loved his little brothers deeply and was fiercely protective of them. The four younger boys looked up to Scott and much to my disappointment at times, preferred to confide in him when they had a problem.

I guess I shouldn't say I was disappointed. The younger ones had no option but to turn to Scott.

I was really working myself to death with the Company now. I was in New York more often than I was in Boston and I regularly travelled overseas. I enjoyed the work and it had made me very wealthy but the down side to it all was I rarely saw the boys. Lately it had really started to bother me. Every time I was home one of them seemed to have changed or grown taller and it was fast becoming obvious my little boys were growing up and had reached an age where they needed their Father around for guidance

Scott took it on himself to fill my shoes and he certainly filled them admirably. Mother never had to worry about the boys coming home from school. Scott made sure they did. She never had to nag anyone about homework. Scott made sure it was done. She never had to referee arguments. Scott took care of that too.

I had to admit I was grateful to the generous, kind hearted boy for everything he did, but the role he was fulfilling filled me with regret. At sixteen he was far too young to be burdened with so much responsibility. Mother didn't give me much support either when I tried to share my concerns.

"What do you expect Jeff? The boy was changing diapers at the age of nine." was the response. "His whole life has been about responsibility."

But whilst I was worried about my eldest son being overly responsible, my current concern was the unruly behaviour of the youngest two.

Gordon, aged eight and Alan, aged seven were a real hand full at the moment and the pair of them were in trouble with me so often I had begun to wonder how they had survived to make it this far. From the moment they woke up in the morning until the moment their heads hit the pillow they were up to mischief.

Gordon was fun-loving and adventurous. Alan was bad-tempered and wild. Together they made one heck of a dangerous combination and when you added me, the workaholic Father who didn't tolerate any nonsense, I'm sure you can imagine the fireworks. Mother called my bedroom the revolving door and she wasn't far off the mark with that observation. I was spending nearly all my free time either reasoning with them or disciplining them. It was driving me crazy.

"If I have to tell either of you just one more time to behave yourself I swear you won't be able to sit down for a week." I rumbled eyeing them up and down.

"I mean it!!!" I added a few moments later.

Naturally the wild one wanted to argue.

"But Daaaddy …" he started.

"Don't you even THINK about speaking Alan." I thundered dangerously. "You two might think it was funny dyeing Mrs Rogers' cat orange but I most certainly do NOT."

I looked at the red-head and waited for the desired response.

"Sorry Sir." came the "repentant" reply.

Then I looked expectantly at the blonde. He kicked at the carpeting and said nothing.

"ANSWER ME ALAN !!!" I roared in frustration.

"You said not to speak Daddy." he pouted. "I was only doin' what you told me."

I rolled my eyes at him and then glared. Once of these days...

The lecture finished with the usual gruff commands. They were to take themselves next door immediately, apologise to Mrs Rogers our long suffering neighbour and offer to pay for the cat to be professionally shampooed. I said I didn't care if the cat didn't get hurt or they thought being orange gave it charisma. I didn't care if it was only meant to be a joke either. It was wild, unruly behaviour, it wasn't funny and I wasn't tolerating it.

The next afternoon I decided pack up my desk and finish at the Office early. I had a lot of things on my mind and I was finding it difficult to concentrate. For one thing the continued discipline problem was really starting to get me down. I was tired of doing nothing but bawl out my boys. They were good kids at heart and their pranks were generally harmless but I just couldn't ignore them and allow them to run wild. Each new prank was more intricate and more extreme than the last and it worried me what dreadful thing they might get up to next.

It's hard to design and focus on business when you're preoccupied with family matters and the boys had not been the only matters on my mind. I'd also been mulling over the direction I wanted my life to head. At forty two I was once again unsettled and very very unhappy.

Mother's face was a mirror of frozen shock when she saw me walk through the door with a bottle of her favourite wine in my hand for dinner. I hadn't come home early in nearly seven years.

"Jeff!!! What a lovely surprise!!!" she exclaimed as I put down my briefcase, handed her the wine and kissed her on the cheek. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Enough of the sarcasm Mom. " I replied picking up the mail and thumbing through it. "You're always telling me I'm never home."

She smiled at me.

"Well it's nice to see you here anyway. The boys will be delighted to have the chance to spend some time with you."

I smiled absently and opened all the new accounts. It had been a long time since I'd thrown a baseball.

The house was deathly quiet and silence of any kind was very unusual. It was normally like down town Manhattan when the boys were home. I glanced up at the clock as I took off my suit coat and seated myself at the bench. It was nearly six o'clock.

"Where is everyone anyway?" I enquired leaning forward to steal a taste of the chocolate fudge cake she was mixing.

After receiving a slap on the fingers and a reminder to watch my manners, Mother reported the individual whereabouts of each child. Alan and Gordon were outside in the garden somewhere, Virgil and John were still at the library and Scott had called to say he was on his way home from football practice.

I nodded absently and looked around the room. After a few moments I glanced at my Mother and quickly looked away again. Mother put down her spoon, took her apron off and came to sit beside me.

She leaned forward deliberately and fixed her eyes on mine.

"All right. Out with it then." she said.

"What?" I enquired, opening my eyes wide and pretending to be surprised.

"You know what Jeff."

I shook my head in amazement. She was as perceptive as Lucy when it came to the hidden agenda.

"Yeah… well ...I… err… do have a couple of things on my mind I'd like to run past you Mom. "I fidgeted nervously.

"Now why doesn't that surprise me?" was the comment followed by an arch of the eyebrows. "I know you don't come home early for nothing."

I gave her a sheepish grin before I continued. I wasn't aware I was so predictable.

"Well Mom it all kind of started when I was reading the financial pages of the New York Times this morning." I began. "Tracy Enterprises is now considered to be one of the top twenty companies in the world."

I paused as much for effect as anything else but I don't think I needed to bother. Mother didn't seem overly impressed with the achievement.

"And so it should be Jeff. You've worked yourself into the ground for nearly eight years to get it there." she replied.

Her indifferent attitude to the success of the Company wasn't making what I wanted to say any easier.

"Yeah I have worked hard." I acknowledged. "But reading about it kind of drove a few things home. I've managed to get the Company right back up there again, but I've spent far too much time away from the boys in order to do it. I guess that's why I'm having so much trouble with Gordon and Alan at the moment."

"Oh Jeff you worry too much. Their pranks are harmless most of the time." she scoffed but then her mood changed and she became pensive. "But I do agree they only get into mischief because you're never home to distract them with something else."

The thought came to my mind once more; it had been a long time since I'd thrown a baseball. I guessed you couldn't play baseball with your kids when you came home after midnight every night seven days a week, that is, if you even bothered to come home at all. I rubbed the back of my neck with guilt counting the number of nights I'd spent this month sleeping in the makeshift bed in my Boston Office.

"I know Mom and that's why I've decided to do something about it."

Taking a deep breath, I looked her straight in the eye and broke the news.

"I've made a decision Momma. I've decided to relocate my Offices to New York and when I do the family is moving there too."

Her face fell to the floor and I swear she didn't breathe for at least sixty seconds. Move to New York was the last thing she expected me to do. I began to worry at her total lack of response and as I always did when I knew she wouldn't approve of something, I blindly began to justify myself.

"Momma let's face it; I already spend most of my time in New York and I'll get to see much more of the boys if we move there. You said yourself I need to spend more time with them and the discipline problem proves it."

The look on her face told me it was wise not to say anything further. Mother had already undergone one complete relocation. She was settled in Boston now and I knew she didn't like New York. I was also mindful she was in her sixties and had become very set in her ways. She hated change. I looked at her and waited for the argument. To my surprise an argument didn't eventuate. All she did was look at me with that worried expression she gets.

"Leaving Boston won't be easy for you Jefferson." she commented quietly.

"What do you mean by that?" I frowned. "Moving is inconvenient Mother but it's certainly not difficult."

Her eyes were steady.

"You'll have to leave Lucy behind."

My own face fell. It had been seven and a half years now and the searing pain I felt whenever her name was mentioned still cut me right to the bone.

"I know." I murmured looking away.

Mother waited for a few moments before reaching forward to take my hand.

"Jeff, after seven years I'm sure she would understand it's time for you to go."

I miserably contemplated the words. I still loved Lucy with all my heart. I didn't want to leave her but I knew I had to.

"Oh sweetie … "Mother sighed at my sad and unhappy face. "How much longer are you going to keep doing this to yourself?"

"What?" I shrugged only half listening.

"Blame yourself for what happened to your little girl."

My stomach began to hurt. No matter how many years rolled by I would never forgive myself for what happened to Lucy Evans. Every time I looked at Alan, the child who should never have been, I remembered all the blood and blamed myself.

"I don't know ma'am." I responded looking everywhere but at her.

I never realised how much noise a ticking clock could make until I sat at that bench with Mother squeezing my hand.

"Jeff …honey ... you don't have to keep punishing yourself for what happened to Lucy. It wasn't your fault." she stated gently but very, very firmly. "You deserve more out of life than this dreadfully lonely existence."

The clock continued to tick and I didn't say anything. She knew I wasn't going to listen to her. She had been trying to get me to listen for seven years. But as always she patted me on the back with her free hand and tried to brighten things up.

"Anyway I think moving to New York is a fine idea and will definitely be a move in the right direction for this family. It's going to be the start of a whole new life for you Jeff and who knows who you might meet along the way. After all…" she paused and winked. "New York is where my Momma and Daddy met. "

Much to my horror I felt my eyes begin to burn. There she was again, suggesting in her round about way I needed to find someone else … fall in love again … remarry. I knew she meant well but I absolutely hated the innuendo. My defences rose immediately.

"I'm not moving to New York to improve my love life ma'am." I snapped, snatching my hand away and rising to my feet. "I'm moving to accommodate my children."

Mother paled at my agitated expression.

"Sweetie... I only meant …" she called after me as I stalked angrily out of the kitchen and headed for the garden. I didn't turn around. I didn't care what she meant. I still loved Lucy and I wasn't leaving Boston because I wanted to look for someone to replace her.

The evening was warm and the sun was beginning to set over the city I had called home for over ten years. The garden was beautiful but despite the relaxing environment of flowers and intricate fountains which beckoned, I stood in the doorway and glanced about unhappily.

There was the neighbour's cat …poor trusting thing ... still orange … sitting under a tree. It was watching me carefully. I walked over and bent down to stroke it. Running my hand through the soft fur was comforting and it allowed me to dwell freely on my thoughts. I didn't move for ages. After a while I felt the tinge of a smile steal across my face. Gordon was right. Being orange did give the cat a lot more charisma. It was a really ugly cat otherwise.

"Oh Luce listen to me. Now he's got me thinkin' like you too." I thought to myself reminiscing about the day we made our fourth son in amongst the hay-bales. "You were just so mischievous that day baby. Nothing but downright mischievous."

My smile was sad but memories of her teasing me about other men and how childishly I had reacted made me feel so much better. Eventually I rose to my feet and wandered about with my hands in my pockets trying to get my head together.

As night started to fall I had fully convinced myself my decision to move was right. Lucy may not be able to come with me but she would still be there. No matter where I went or whatever I did I knew she would still be there. I only had to look at my sons to see her.

My attention and melancholy mood were soon diverted by a loud ruckus at the back of the garden. The ruckus was followed by a voice of fury. I startled and looked in the direction of the noise. It appeared to be coming from behind the huge pile of firewood stacked neatly near the fence.

"Are you pair CRAZY????"

The voice was easily recognisable. It was the only other fully broken voice in the Tracy household. I frowned and moved without a sound in the direction of the firewood. Scott must have come in from football practice the back way and in doing so had unwittingly stumbled on something which made him mighty unhappy.

"I can't believe how stupid you are." he stormed. "Do you know what'll happen to you if Dad finds out?"

My ears pricked up and I edged my way out of view. If Dad finds out what?

"He won't find out." said one voice.

"Yeah Scott who's gonna tell him huh?" said the other.

"You wanna know who's gonna tell him you little smart ass?" Scott thundered. "ME that's who."

I instantly reddened with frustration. It figured. Gordon and Alan were at it again. I went to open my mouth to bellow but my instincts told me to hold my tongue and listen. I had an inkling I was about to hear something more.

Well I heard something more all right…more than any self-respecting Father needed to hear when he was debating whether he should move his family so he could keep an eye on them.

"Oh no you won't." challenged Alan. "If you do I'll tell Dad you were in the bathroom with that girl last week."

My eyes widened.

Bathroom????

Girl?????

What girl?????????

"Don't you threaten me Alan." came the growl of warning. "I'll bust both your asses from here to the Mexican Border if you even think about it."

"Well we will if you tell Dad about us." Gordon warned in return.

"Yeah Scott."

"For your information Adelaide and I weren't doing anything in the bathroom."

"Oh yes you were." shot Gordon. "You had the door locked."

"It doesn't mean we were doing anything."

"Yes it does. I HEARD you."

"That's got nothing to do with this. You guys shouldn't be smoking. You're not even old enough to be out of diapers."

"We ARE old enough."

"Both of us!!!"

My eyes got bigger still.

Girls behind locked doors?????????

Smoking??????????

"Anyway Scott you used to smoke." accused Alan.

"That was different." was the flat response.

"How was it different?" argued Gordon.

"I was fifteen and in High school." Scott snarled. "And besides I stopped doing it after a couple of weeks because I realised it was dumb."

"That's not what Virgil said."

"He said you stopped because you got busted."

"Virgil's wrong. I did NOT get busted."

"Yes you did."

"NO I did not. Like I said I stopped smoking because it was a dumb and expensive thing to do."

"You only stopped smoking Scott because Grandma made you smoke a whole packet straight."

"Yeah and after the last one you threw up everywhere."

I didn't think my eyes could get much bigger.

Mother KNEW and she did WHAT?

I was too stunned to move which was probably just as well. Everything inside me screamed out to haul all three of those boys upstairs for a long overdue date with my belt.

Then one by one Scott came out with the Fatherly strategies which would make any man proud.

The voice of reason.

"Look you guys I'm tellin' you straight. If you keep smoking someone's gonna find out about it and if it's Dad you know what's gonna happen to you."

No luck.

Then the voice of concern.

"Come on. Surely you don't want to get it from him again do you? Dad's belt really hurts."

Still no luck.

And then the voice of authority coupled with a big brotherly slamming of both of them into the wood pile.

"Smoking is bad for you and if I ever catch either of you doing it again I'll personally knock your both your Goddamn lights out. Is that clear?"

I was completely astounded. All I could see was the outline of Scott's six foot frame grasping Alan's collar in one hand and Gordon's collar in the other.

Wood lay strewn everywhere.

I think the two of them were completely shocked as it took more than a few minutes before they gave a timid reply.

"I won't do it again Scott."

"Me either Scott. Please let go of me Sir."

I swear at that moment Dad's words were the only things between me and those boys. I didn't advocate any of this sort of behaviour and I couldn't believe it was happening right underneath my nose.

"Hear what you need to hear Jefferson and forget the rest"

I stood there ready to charge forward and assert my authority. Scott shouldn't have been smoking and I was about to tell him so too.

And then came the voice in my head.

"After being forced to smoke a packet straight do you really think he'll ever smoke again?"

A few minutes thought.

OK but Alan and Gordon were far too young to get away with doing it.

Then the voice continued.

"After being slammed head first like that into a wood pile do you think either of them will be doing anything to displease their big brother?"

A few more minutes thought.

Probably not but the part about the girl in the bathroom really had me teetering on the edge.

And then the voice really let me have it.

"How old were you when you took Mary-Jane Riley out behind the church to "look at the view"? Sixteen wasn't it? "

"Nothing happened I tell you." I informed the heavens deliberately.

"Then hear what you need to hear son and forget the rest."

"Yeah right." I mumbled after more recollection and soul-searching about my evening with Mary-Jane Riley. Nothing had happened as we fumbled about in the darkness even though I would have liked it to. Mom, as usual, had interrupted things by calling me out from behind the church and demanding it was time to go home. I still remembered the raised voices of Mom and Dad in their bedroom after the silent journey home.

"You do something about him Grant. He's playing with fire as far as I'm concerned." Mother had demanded.

And Dad's gruff voice in return.

"Oh Josephine for goodness sake lay off the boy. He said nothing happened and I believe him. You gotta understand boys will be boys."

I turned on my heel to head back inside. If only Scott Carpenter Tracy knew how lucky he was. Memories of my earlier life had saved him. Memories and my Father's advice.

Mmmm....

You know in hindsight I still think I got that one wrong. I really should have broached the subject of that young lady with my eldest son. But even though I didn't I still ended up making my point.

"What are you doing Dad?" Scott stopped to ask me the next day as I knelt outside the bathroom door with a screwdriver in my mouth.

I looked up at him. "Taking the lock off the door." was my muffled response. "You don't have a problem with me doing that do you son?"

I laughed inwardly as I watched him redden.

"Umm …no Sir." he replied and hurriedly went on his way.

"Hear what you need to hear and forget the rest."

Ah yes my Father was a very wise man.

I accidentally got to hear so many things as my boys grew into manhood and those words of advice guided me to make the right decisions over and over again. They helped me to hold my tongue when I overheard things a Father shouldn't... the whispered words of wonder as my little boys changed into men … the secret confidences of experiencing first love…and ... as I walked past Scott's room on my way in from the office late one night, what had happened to a certain young Tracy son when his doting old Grandmother found out about it.

I didn't make a habit of eavesdropping on my son's private conversations and on that particular evening all I intended to do was put my head inside the door and say I was home. But once I heard the opening sentence of this conversation my feet literally froze to the floor.

"You dumb ass. Where were the two of you when she caught you?"

"We were in the parking lot."

"The parking lot? Not very original Virg."

"Well where else was I supposed to go?"

"Certainly not the parking lot when you know Grandma's coming to pick you up."

"Grandma wasn't supposed to come get me. Dad was."

"Yeah and like that makes a difference!"

"I honestly didn't see her Scott."

"How could you NOT see Grandma?"

"I was kinda busy OK?"

"Didn't you look around before you got in the car?"

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"No. I didn't look around."

"You know Virg for a brother of mine you're not very bright."

"OK so I didn't look. We can't all be like you Scott."

"So?"

"So what?"

"So what did Grandma do?"

"Oh man. You don't wanna know."

"Bad huh?"

"You don't know the half of it. Do you know she can yell for an hour straight without takin' a breath."

"Gee. She must have been real mad."

"I'm tellin' you. She's sure cured me. I'm never touchin' a girl again!"

"Admirable resolution Virg but not very real."

"Real? You didn't cop Grandma all the way home. Now if you want real ...that's real. "

"That's what you get for being such a dumb ass."

"Will you stop calling me a dumb ass!

"Any other suggestions?"

"Scott if Grandma tells Dad about this I'm dead. You know what he's like about us respectin' women. I'll get it from him so bad."

"Wish I could help you out little brother but you will do these things in parking lots."

"Thanks for the sympathy."

"You're welcome. Any time."

"What do you think I should do?"

"About what?"

"About Grandma."

"You'll just have to keep on the good side of her I guess. You know ... offer to do extra chores and stuff. "

"Guess so."

"Knowing Grandma you'll be doing extra chores for the rest of your tragic life."

"I'd rather do that than have Dad find out."

I shook my head in the dark corridor and turned to walk away. There's a certain feeling of sadness a Father feels in his heart when his son grows up in the physical sense. Scott was in College and I didn't expect him to be innocent but Virgil ... Virgil was different. To me he would always be the frightened little five year old who wanted his Mommy to come back from heaven.

I went down the hall to my room feeling more disappointed in Mother than angry at Virgil. I had just spent half an hour talking to her downstairs and she hadn't said a thing about it. I guessed she felt the situation was under control. I still think she was wrong. I never broached the subject with her but I believe I should have been the one to offer Virgil guidance about the girl in the car not her. Making love to a woman was not something I wanted Mother to cure my sons of. I wanted them to understand and appreciate it was precious act and not something to be taken lightly.

Mmmm.

But it was still most amusing watching Virgil do all the extra chores.

"A Father needs to play dumb when the situation warrants it."

Dad's final words of wisdom.

I am actually quite averse to the term dumb. I think when my boys reach Fatherhood my advice to them will be worded differently. Rather than "dumb" I believe a good Father should never play his hand until the situation warrants it.

I've given you many instances of where I haven't played my hand yet, the ditching of the jet, the talking to the stars, the love tryst, the secret romance.... In many of these instances I'll probably never put my cards on the table but while I hold them in my hand my sons will always wonder. It's funny.

I really don't mind if the boys think dumb old Dad is not quite up with what's going on in their lives.

They can think whatever they want. Believe me dumb old Dad is.

But I also have a confession to make.

Jeff Tracy can also be extremely "dumb" too. Dumb as in the true meaning of the word. Dumb as in looking in the mirror in disbelief wondering how I could have possibly done something so brainless.

I have only ever done two really dumb things in my life and both of them left me reeling at the depth of my own stupidity.

The first was believing my Mother would love the "special surprise" I arranged in conjunction with her sixty third birthday and the second ... well…

Maybe I should just stick to telling you about the first.

The family had long since relocated to New York and moved into a spacious new home an hour's drive from my Offices. The house was state of the art with every possible modern convenience known to man and was so huge a person could walk around in there for nearly fifteen minutes and not see a solitary soul.

Mother couldn't believe the advanced technology built into the house and she was having a very hard time coming to grips with it all. The appliances in the kitchen sent her into a total spin, she became completely frazzled if she had to use the cleaning system and I couldn't believe the number of times she locked herself in the bathroom.

"You're getting too old Mom!" I joked showing her the sequence of commands to operate the inbuilt cleaning system for the tenth time in nearly as many days.

"I am NOT getting old thank you very much!" she sniffed indignantly. "You just watch yourself and have some respect for your elders. I'll get the hang of this."

We both grimaced as she proceeded to punch in the wrong commands ... again… and dust flew everywhere... again.

"Errr... eventually." she said tightly.

I laughed at her and hugged a very big secret to my chest. Tomorrow was Mother's sixty-third birthday and as far as I was concerned she would never have to worry about any of this again. I had arranged a special surprise for her, one I thought she would love.

Surprise … yeah …that was a good word for it. A surprise is something you don't expect and it was pretty obvious when I gave it to her that she wasn't expecting it. I have never forgotten the look on my Mother's face when I introduced her to her "surprise."

"Mom …" I began motioning the slightly built Malaysian man with the gentle smile forward to meet her. "I'd like you to meet my friend Mr. Kyrano. He's just moved to the States from Paris."

Mother smiled politely from the couch and reached out her hand and shook his.

"Mornin' Mr. Kyrano. It's very nice to meet you." she said amiably.

"I am most honoured to make your acquaintance also Mrs. Tracy." Kyrano replied with a bow of his head.

One by one I called forward and introduced my five sons.

"Scott's my eldest. He's heading back to College tomorrow." I explained. "… and young Virgil here is in High School. John over there is thirteen, Gordon's ten and Alan … Alan pay attention while I'm speaking please… Alan's nine."

So far so good. Everyone was nodding their heads and smiling.

I made the most of the congenial atmosphere to tell Mother a bit about Kyrano. I had met him about eighteen months before when I was dining alone in Paris. He was working as the head chef at the Paris Hilton and the two of us had struck up a conversation at the end of evening when he came to close down the dining room. I found him to be a very interesting man and I invited him downstairs to the bar to share a drink with me. We spoke for hours. I had been captivated by Kyrano's story of his past life, how he left Malaysia after losing his inheritance, the treachery of his half brother, his love of botany, his life in England, and the reasons he had left England to work in Paris.

That had led into a discussion about family. We found we had very much in common not only in values but in circumstances. Both of us were single Fathers. Both of us had lost our wives in sad circumstances. Both of us were struggling trying to combine the pressures of work and parenthood. Both of us loved our children dearly and wished we had more time to spend with them.

"Kyrano has a daughter Mom." I continued, happy to go on with the story. "She's around the same age as Gordon."

"That a fact Mr Kyrano?" Mother said warmly. "The Tracy family hasn't produced any daughters for well over fifty years. Just can't breed 'em I afraid. I wouldn't have minded raisin' a daughter myself but oh well … you love what you get don't you?"

"Indeed Mrs. Tracy." Kyrano agreed. "Children are a most precious gift."

"Would you like to meet her Mom?" I enquired moving across the room towards the hallway.

"Well of course I would." she frowned. "Don't tell me you've made the poor little girl wait outside."

"She's very shy Mom." I replied. "But I think I can convince her to come in."

I returned around five minutes later holding the hand of a very thin, very tiny little girl with long black hair and big brown eyes. Her hand was literally trembling in mine as we entered the sitting room and when she saw the boys, it shook harder.

"Mother. This is Tin-Tin." I announced leading her in. "Tin-Tin this is my Mother Mrs. Tracy."

"Hello Mrs Tracy." she squeaked in a small, frightened voice.

"My … you are a pretty little thing." Mother commented taking both of Tin-Tin's delicate hands in hers. "I'm very pleased to know you my dear."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Alan and Gordon rolling their eyes at each other. We'd already had a discussion about Tin-Tin and they didn't want a thing to do with her. I cast them a warning glance to behave themselves.

"I'm errr… going to be paying for Tin-Tin's education from now on Mom." I said carefully, easing my way through the situation. "She's an extremely intelligent little girl and Kyrano needs my help to make sure she attends a decent school."

Mother raised her eyebrows and looked at me with surprise.

"Well that's very generous of you dear."

"Not really Mom … It's ...errr .... going to be a kind of a trade off actually."

"Trade-off? Trade-off for what?" she enquired.

I found myself automatically loosening my collar. Despite the house being fully air-conditioned it was becoming pretty darned hot in here.

"Well …ummm...Mom … I've invited Kyrano to America to come and work for me … and from today ... ummm ... he'll be taking over from you."

I held my breath but still managed to add. "Happy Birthday Mom. You can finally retire."

There was dead silence.

Now I have to give my sons credit. They've got a mighty good feel for when to pull out of a dangerous situation when they recognise one and I'm sure they learnt all of their skills in the sitting room on Mother's sixty third birthday. I've never seen a room empty so fast in my whole life, except perhaps tonight when we thought the kitchen was on fire.

"Excuse me Dad, I gotta go finish packing for college." said Scott.

"Umm and I think I'm supposed to be washing the car." said Virgil.

"I need to pack up my telescope." said Johnny.

"We gotta do our homework." said Gordon grabbing Alan by the arm.

"No we don't." argued Alan still with his eyes transfixed on Tin-Tin.

"Well you can help me with the car." Virgil panicked grabbing Alan's other arm and hauling him out the door.

Mother didn't even watch them go. Her face was a mask of complete anger and you didn't need an awful lot of intelligence to work out an explosion was imminent. I took two steps back as her face went white and her hands clenched. Here I was thinking she'd be grateful for the chance to relax and put her feet up and instead I was about to get the biggest verbal caning of my life.

Luckily she held herself together until after I'd shown Kyrano to his suite of rooms at the other end of the house. But the moment I returned to the sitting room she jumped out of her chair with the agility of a ten year old and cornered me with her hands on her hips and her blood pressure about to hit the top of the Richter scale.

"UPSTAIRS JEFFERSON!" she barked. "NOW!!!!!!!"

Now I'd been on this earth for almost forty five years and in my opinion I was getting a little too old to be treated like a child. I wasn't about to be ordered to my room by my Mother let alone cop a tongue lashing for simply wanting to give her the chance to have her old life back again. I told her so too. The way I figured it having Kyrano in the house would leave her free to come and go as she pleased and wouldn't she like that? No more shopping, no more laundry, no more cooking, and … I tried not to look grateful … no more fooling around with the new appliances.

But Mother didn't see it like I did. All she saw was I thought she was past her use by date and she wasn't capable of doing anything anymore.

"That's ridiculous Mom!" I argued. "Of course I know you're still capable. I just think you should be enjoying your life now that's all."

"What? Before I keel over and turn my toes up is that what you're saying?" she flashed.

"No. That's not what I'm saying ...and if you don't calm yourself down a bit you will keel over and turn your toes up."

"That man is not coming into my kitchen." she said adamantly. "I mean it."

You have no idea how long she carried on about Kyrano and even now I still bear the brunt of it at times. The Kyrano's have been with us twelve years in the fall and Mother still thinks she owns the kitchen. Luckily she's calmed down enough over the years to allow Kyrano to "help."

But most of all Mother really took to the shy little girl with the long black hair and big brown eyes. As she had said to Kyrano, she'd always wanted to raise a daughter of her own and Tin-Tin fitted the bill perfectly. She was in her element as Tin-Tin grew, spoiling her to death, offering advice and giving the little girl someone to confide in as she grew into womanhood. I didn't have a problem with that and in fact I welcomed it.

Until she came up with her current crazy scheme.

"They just fit don't you think Jeff?" she asked me one afternoon as Alan and Tin-Tin sat together arguing in front of the television.

I was reading the newspaper and trying to console myself with a glass of scotch after seeing Johnny off to College and I wasn't expecting to hear something like that.

"What do you mean fit?" I frowned looking at my gangly fourteen year old wild child and the pretty fifteen year old beside him.

"I don't know how to describe it dear. They just look right together." she said enthusiastically. "You know. Like you and Lucille always looked."

"They do nothing but argue with each other Mother." was my firm observation. "Forget it."

But you couldn't dissuade Mother. She had it in her head years ago my youngest son and Miss Tin-Tin Kyrano would one day be a couple.

I look down to the end of the table and try very hard not to admit she was right. These days Alan and Tin-Tin do seem to fit; and even though they still argue, they are very much a couple.

But then of course dear old Dad is too "dumb" to know about it.

I suppose now that I've got this far I may as well come clean and tell you about the other really dumb thing I've done.

This time I did it as a Father and it was past dumb. It was dumber than dumb.

This was without doubt the stupidest thing Jeff Tracy, the man, ever did in his life.

And what was it?

It was to give or should I say attempt to give Jeff Tracy's infamous "talk about life" to my two youngest sons…at the same time.

Dear God I'll never get over that night if I live to be a hundred. If any of you reading this are Fathers or intending to become Fathers in the next fifty years take Jeff Tracy's advice on board right now. NEVER ... I repeat ... NEVER explain the facts of life to two boys at the same time. Your life's not worth it. I mean what I'm saying. Jump into a river full of hungry alligators, jump out of plane without a parachute, drive a fast car with no brakes... believe me you'll still come out of it in better shape.

I suppose you're wondering how I could possibly have got my talk about life wrong again. Well I did and the reason I did was because I was too damned confident in myself. After my first clumsy attempt with Scott I was much more relaxed when I spoke to Virgil and with Johnny it was almost easy. John even asked me a couple of questions which I managed to answer. I was convinced I had it down to a fine art now. I didn't see there was a problem with telling the last two together.

But not those two.

What a huge mistake...

As I think I said to you earlier these two boys were a mighty dangerous combination. Gordon was fun-loving and adventurous. Alan was bad tempered and wild. After watching three older brothers change into young men before them they knew exactly what was going to happen to them over the next few years even though neither of them let on.

And unbeknown to me they also knew exactly what Dad was going to tell them about it ... and then do.

I love those boys dearly and most things they do make me chuckle but I have never forgiven them for what they did to me that day. I have never been more embarrassed in my life.

Of course it all began in the usual way. Gordon had been expecting me to call him upstairs ever since he'd turned thirteen and it came as no surprise when I asked him to remain behind at the table after dinner for the talk. Alan on the other hand wasn't expecting it at all but he more than happily stayed when I told him this was intended for his ears too.

And then I began.

I was floored. I've seen some good acts in my time but my two boys take the Oscar for an outstanding performance. I've never seen two kids act so uninformed about anything. The worst part was I believed them. They gave me the most surprised looks when I cleared my throat and asked them if they knew anything about how their bodies would change in the next few years.

"No Sir." said one.

"No Sir." said the other.

I actually felt sorry for them at that point. I decided they must have been too busy playing pranks to observe their brothers changing right in front of their eyes. As a result I systematically went through everything like a military drill even to the point of using my middle finger to list the changes. If I hadn't have been so preoccupied with not missing anything I would have seen the two of them grinning at each other each time I touched my finger. I asked them if they had any questions. Naturally they did.

"So Dad." came the query. "When all the growing's done does everyone end up the same?"

"What do you mean the same Gordon?" I frowned.

"Well Sir ... it's sort of like your middle finger isn't it? Yours is longer than mine at the moment. When I stop growing will our fingers be the same length?"

I'm so stupid. I thought he was making reference to the size of our hands. When I openly replied finger length varied mainly due to diet and bone structure they both burst into laughter and eagerly compared their middle fingers.

"Mine's longer than yours." shrieked Alan.

"It's all in the bone structure Al." laughed Gordon.

I quickly put the lecture back on track. Those two tended to amuse themselves over the most menial matters sometimes. I carefully moved on to the subject of girls. This time I asked them how much they knew about sex.

"Not much Sir." said one seriously.

"Nothing Sir." said the other very seriously.

Do you know how hard it is to talk about the sexual act from scratch? It's not easy particularly when I felt I had to cover things from a woman's perspective too. But once again I systematically went through each and every step, inviting questions and trying to answer them... well most of them.

"How does it feel Dad?" asked Alan his dazzling blue eyes full of merriment.

Now there's a limit to what sort of education you give your sons and I felt I had reached the limit. I wasn't about to share that sort of information with a twelve year old.

"Let's just say it's one of life's better experiences Alan." I said tightly. "And you won't have to worry about it for a good while yet. Which…errr… leads me into the next thing we need to discuss."

Yes, it was time for the demonstration. The demonstration was preceded by a huge lecture about the importance of responsibility in a relationship and how steps needed to be taken to stop any unwanted outcomes. Please believe me when I say it wasn't easy for me to look into the faces of my own two "mistakes" and make a statement like that.

"Were either of us mistakes Dad?" Gordon asked with interest.

"You don't think somethin' like you was planned do you?" scoffed Alan shoving him sideways.

"And somethin' like you was?" flashed Gordon shoving him back.

I didn't reply to that one. If only they both knew. Instead I told them to stop fooling around and asked if either of them had ever seen the object I held in my hand.

"It's a water bomb." said one with a grin.

"Yeah a real BIG water bomb." said the other with a bigger grin.

"No you might think it's a water bomb boys but that's not actually what it is." I replied patiently still believing they didn't understand.

Oh boy. Then I had to try and make them understand. Back to the beginning I went as we discussed what it was, the use and the timing. It was a pity I failed to notice them idly wagging their middle fingers at each other the whole way through.

"Do they come in different sizes Dad?" asked Gordon for once asking a sensible question.

"Yeah like I need a large and he needs a small." Alan grinned waving his middle finger madly in the air.

It was only then I finally got it. I panicked and began to redden. Dear God... what had I been saying about bone structure?

Then it was open question time. That really finished me off. I could take the questions about themselves but I backed right off when Tin-Tin's private business became the subject. I nearly died of embarrassment when Alan revealed what he knew and I think I'm still recovering from the fact that he knew it.

Let me say this right now. My youngest sons are past mischievous when they are together. They are bad ... really bad and after enduring the "Talk about Life" I came to the conclusion dyeing a cat orange was definitely not the worst thing they were capable of.

And I have never mentioned bone structure since.

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Stage 8 - The Founder of International Rescue

It's hard to say when the idea of forming International Rescue first entered my head. There were a lot of contributing factors behind it. I suppose if I really wanted to pinpoint the time in my life when the idea came to me, I think it was the day I met a young Engineer who came to my Office in New York looking for a job.

I was watching a newscast at the time. A massive fire had broken out in a multi-story building and hundreds of people were trapped on the higher floors. I shook my head at the lack of direction the rescue authorities seemed to have. The objective I would have thought was to get the people out quickly. These guys seemed more obsessed with putting out the fire.

My attention was diverted from the screen to the door as my Secretary knocked and showed the young Engineer in. I invited him to sit down and, as I always did when I interviewed new staff, sat on the end of my desk ready for an informal but nevertheless in-depth interview.

He was very young, around John's age I figured ... around twenty two ... very slightly built ... wearing a pair of bifocals at least two inches thick.

He was nervous.

He stuttered.

And his name was Hiram Hackenbacker.

I remember trying to hold myself together when he introduced himself as immediately to my mind came memories of Dad's face when I told him Lucy and I were naming our baby Virgil.

"What sort of name is that for a Tracy baby?" he'd said in complete disbelief. "Why aren't you giving him a name that's more suitable?" Let me say I was thinking exactly the same thing when I shook the hand of the stuttering Mr Hiram Hackenbacker.

It was an interesting meeting; a young, shy Engineer only a few years out of College facing an Engineer who had taken a rocket ship to the moon and pretty well done it all.

"So Mr Hackenbacker. May I call you Hiram?" I began pleasantly.

"Y...Y...Yes M...M...Mr T...T...Tracy but m...m...my friends call m...m...me Br..Br...Brains" he replied.

"Poor man." I thought to myself. "Stuttering can be such an affliction. I'll have to see what I can do to help him with that. "

"I see." I said. "Well err... Brains it is. Now I'll be direct with you Brains because I'm busy and I'm a businessman. I've gone over your credentials and they are excellent. Valedictorian of your College. Already in receipt of your Masters. Writing a thesis for your Doctorate at the moment. So why does someone as gifted as you want to come and work for a man like me?"

"You ex...ex...excel in t...t...t...t... technology S...S...Sir." he replied fixing the bifocals on me.

I folded my arms and nodded my head. I liked this guy. He was young but he was very astute.

"Thank you." I responded. "I've always believed embracing new technology is the key to financial success in any business."

Brains didn't reply. His eyes were fixed on the newscast.

"They... they...they h...h...h..ave all the wr...wr...wr... wrong e...e...equipment." he commented quietly.

"Oh?" I enquired with interest. "What makes you say that?"

His answers amazed me. In those few minutes he had completely assessed the way the fire-fighting equipment was designed, what was wrong with it and what was needed to make it more efficient. My interest in Mr Hiram Hackenbacker intensified. He wasn't just astute. He was damned brilliant.

Within an hour I had appointed him to offside me in the New York Office. This boy had a bright future and I never hesitated to grab expertise like his no matter where it came from.

Within a month of working with him, I had the vision of International Rescue.

I suppose the rest of how International Rescue came to be is not that interesting. Brains and I worked many hours over the next few years designing what would one day become the basis of the Thunderbird machines. My time was pretty much my own now with the boys all gone.

Scott was following in my footsteps in the Air Force, Virgil was flying aircraft in Denver, Johnny had started work for NASA, Gordon was making a name for himself in WASP and Alan was in his first year in College. Tin-Tin had also left New York to study for a double degree at Oxford in England.

The big house in New York was a very lonely place at times and I was grateful Kyrano and Mother had managed to establish some sort of friendship over the years which enabled them to cope with the emptiness. Kyrano missed Tin-Tin terribly and like me, threw himself into his work trying not to think about it. My diary was so precise it was amazing and the house was so spotless it was abnormal.

But then the holidays and special occasions would fall due and all the boys would come home. Within an hour of their arrival the house was in an uproar again, laughter filled the air and it was like none of them had ever gone.

And it was now Christmas Eve and they were all here.

I overlooked the happy scene with pride.

My five little boys.

My five young men.

Scott now stood tall and proud wearing his Air Force uniform. He was so strong, so handsome, so confident. At twenty-seven he was me all over again.

Virgil laughed and joked beside him. He was tall and strong but he also exuded a certain gentleness only Lucy had possessed. At twenty-four he was a fine young man.

John looked about dreamily and took everything in. He was extremely good-looking with his blonde hair and baby blue eyes but at twenty-two he was still John. Quiet, alluring and unassuming.

Gordon had come home casually dressed. He never wore his WASP uniform in front of me because he knew I didn't approve of his career choice. But his honey brown eyes still sparkled with Lucy's mischief as he grinned away at his brothers. He would soon reach his twentieth birthday.

Alan swaggered around as he always did, still very much the baby and still very much wanting to be treated otherwise. He was eighteen years old with the same blonde good looks as John but with the most dazzling blue eyes and an arrogance which reminded me so much of my Father. Mmmm… it was a pity he wasn't excelling in College as much as he was excelling on the nearby race-track.

"What do you think Luce?" I remember thinking to myself. "I ended up doing a pretty good job for you after all huh?"

I looked over at Mother who was standing in the middle of them. They were all taller than her now but she still commanded the same attention and respect she always did. I smiled at her and she smiled at me. I'm sure she was thinking the same thing.

That Christmas, two years before International Rescue officially began was a Christmas to remember.

I invited Brains over for Dinner so he could finally meet the family. Brains fitted right in with the boys although much to their hilarity they all found themselves stuttering after talking to him for a few hours. Mother said it was all the alcohol they were consuming and berated them to start behaving themselves.

"Y...Y...Y..Y...yes ma'am." came the chorus of six rather inebriated young men.

"Jeff!!!!" she appealed to me. "This is most inappropriate. That poor young man can't help it."

"Ma'am. All I can say is I see what I need to see and I hear what I need to hear." I grinned. "and at the moment that's n...n...nothing."

"You're as bad as the rest of them Jeff Tracy." she frowned as the howls of laughter increased. "It's a damned disgrace."

But there was a serious side to the proceedings too and after most of them had errr.... slept it off a few hours later, I broke the news of the "Christmas present" I had given myself a couple of weeks before.

"You brought yourself what Dad?" asked Scott in amazement, his dark blue eyes like saucers.

"You got it Scott. I've picked myself up an uninhabited island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean."

"Dear Lord." I heard Mother whisper. "Now he's going eccentric too."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"No Mom" I assured her. "Contrary to what you think I'm not going crazy. I've just decided it's time for Jeff Tracy to slow down a bit and move out of the rat race."

"But Dad ..." Scott continued. "Who's going to run Tracy Enterprises if you decide to hole yourself up on a tropical island?"

I began to explain things in more detail. Tracy Enterprises was a massive corporation and I could still run it very successfully from anywhere in the world I chose. I didn't need to be in New York anymore, pushing a pen night and day and driving myself into an early grave.

"And besides." I added quietly mentioning her in their presence for the very first time. "I've always wanted to prove something to your Mother."

The room fell silent more with shock than anything else. The boys looked at each other nervously. None of them were brave enough to speak. But Mother, who was almost as shocked as they were, spoke for them.

"What is it you wanted to prove to her Jeff?" she asked.

"Oh ... it's nothing really; just something which started as a silly little joke between us when we were dating." I shrugged." But one day I'd always hoped I'd be able to prove to her I could do it."

The whole room looked at me expectantly.

I shrank.

I really felt foolish now.

"Well for what's worth, I once told your Mother I'd end up being a billionaire one day and when I was I'd be able to afford to take her to live with me on a tropical island."

I immediately changed the subject.

"Anyway ...that was a long, long time ago and it doesn't matter to anyone but me. What I wanted to tell you all is I'm having a new house built out there during the year and once the house is ready, we'll be leaving New York for good. Brains will be coming out there with us. I'll be arranging for us to commute when necessary."

With that I left the room. I'd broken the news and now as I always did when Lucy was on my mind, I needed to be alone.

"I tell you - from Kansas to Houston to Florida to Houston to Boston to New York to God knows where!!! Your Father is NEVER happy." I heard my Mother exclaim. "You watch out Kyrano. He'll have us headed for Siberia next!!!!"

I pretended I didn't hear her but she was right about me not being happy. I hadn't been really happy for a very long time. Ever since I'd lost her.

And I needed her quiet, thoughtful advice right now.

International Rescue was the greatest project of my life and as with everything major in my life I wanted her to be a part of it. I didn't know if investing billions of dollars to make the world a safer place was the right thing for me to do or not. Only she had ever had that sort of judgement and she wasn't with me any more.

"Just do it Jeff." she had said to me when I wanted to found the Business.

Now I really wanted to hear her say the same thing about International Rescue.

And whilst I thought it was impossible, Lucille Evans made very very sure she told me......

One year later I was standing overlooking the bluest, most beautiful Ocean I had ever seen from the balcony of our brand new villa. I'd just finished an hour long video conference with New York and was taking the opportunity to relax and congratulate myself on a job well done. Things had gone very well and I'd tied up another large contract. I loved my new lifestyle. I was still doing the things I enjoyed but now I did them without the business suit, without the stress, and without the smog.

All we had at the moment was paradise.

Until Kyrano informed me I had a call.

"I'll take it out here thank you." I replied reaching forward to touch the screen and taking a sip of my drink.

A military man with grim features met my eyes. It was the last thing I was expecting.

I'd only ever received one other call like his call; Valentine's Day, the year my fourth son entered the world. All the blood drained out of my face as I listened. There had been a Hydrofoil accident near the base a few hours ago. Five of those on board were confirmed dead. The other two were listed as critical. They were Gordon ... and his young girl-friend Jezzica.

"H... how ... how bad is it?" I breathed not even realising I'd dropped my glass and shattered it.

"Well Mr. Tracy I don't know too much only that their injuries are very serious. I urge you to come immediately."

"Oh my God." I breathed and sat there uselessly. I couldn't seem to get my legs to move.

"Jeff?" enquired Mother who had come to investigate the sound of breaking glass. "Jeff is there something wrong?"

"Dear God NO!" I suddenly yelled loudly clenching my fists against my temples and beginning to sob.

"Oh Lord …Honey .... honey what's happened?" she panicked, grasping my arms and trying to get me to look at her.

I rose to my feet and staggered blindly into the house. Not my son. I couldn't be about to lose my son.

Mother followed me in sheer panic.

"For God's sake Jeff turn around this minute and tell me!!!" Mother nearly screamed.

"Momma it's…it's Gordon." I sobbed fumbling through my desk and trying to find my pilot's licence.

Her face paled and I saw her clutch the side of the table to support herself.

"What's wrong with Gordon?" she whispered in terror.

When I told her the news she nearly collapsed. Kyrano came forward to support her. Gordon and Jezzica had only been over here last week and Mother had just commented over breakfast what a wonderful future they were going to have together. I hadn't said anything. I was too busy being sore at them for "sleeping" in my bed.

And now ...

"I gotta get myself over there Momma." I blubbered making my way to the elevator. "They said he's not gonna make it."

With that I left Tracy Island in my private jet and in a complete haze of grief somehow flew myself to the Marine Hospital. It took me six hours to get there and it was six hours of pure torment. I radioed the Air Force Base in Nevada and asked for a message to be given to Scott. Scott was on manoeuvres with Red Flag but the Commander said he would contact him immediately. When Scott radioed back he was still in the air himself and his voice was barely a whisper.

"Father I've just been informed. Are you all right Sir?" he asked me frantically.

How do you answer a question like that? An afternoon in Kansas, walking hand in hand with a beautiful chestnut haired girl. An afternoon in Kansas making love to her behind the hay bales in a barn. Gordie had been the result of that afternoon. My precious little premature baby. My barn baby. A baby boy full of fun, full of mischief and full of life.

Just like she had been.

And she had been taken away from me.

Now he was going to be taken away from me too.

"Son I need you to contact your brothers as soon as you land." I managed to reply. "Tell them they have to come."

When I arrived at the hospital Gordon's condition had worsened. He was now listed as "dangerously ill." Jezzica Parker had died.

I was immediately taken to his bedside. The boy was a mess. His skull was fractured and his whole body was broken. He was on a respirator. His lungs had collapsed. His whole body was blue. The surgeons couldn't operate. They said he'd die on the table.

"He's doing as well as can be expected." the Doctor said. "There's every reason to be hopeful."

I almost allowed myself a bitter laugh at the irony of that statement. He wasn't even game enough to look me in the face.These Doctors amazed me. They spun that useless line past everyone.

"Look Captain just cut the crap." I snapped in a voice totally out of character. "Tell me the truth about my son damn you. I'm not some blasted fool you can fob off. I'm Jeff Tracy and I was in the military while you were still in diapers. Do you understand me?"

The young Doctor lowered his head. He was obviously not experienced in a tragedy of this magnitude and he was completely traumatised after breaking the news to the parents of young Jezzica Parker.

"Mr. Tracy. I'm sorry Sir. There's umm… very little hope from where I see it." he murmured. "The Lieutenant has suffered severe internal injuries and there's an awful lot of bleeding. Most people don't come out of that I'm afraid."

My eyes shone and I looked blankly around the darkened room. "Thank you." I swallowed trying not to think about Lucy. "At least I know what I'm dealing with now."

I slowly pulled a chair next to Gordon's bedside and took my cell phone out of my pocket. I certainly knew what I was dealing with because I'd been forced to deal with it before. I looked blankly at the phone. I didn't want to do this to her but I knew I had to call.

It was almost like déjà vu to the night I lost Lucy.

"Momma…" I swallowed trying not to cry. "I'm sending a plane for you immediately. I'm afraid it's Gordon's time."

Gordon's Time… I spat looking angrily around the room. How could it possibly be time for a twenty year old boy? At twenty I'd had all the time in the world. Time to live … time to achieve … time to laugh …time to love…hell I'd even had time to spend one more year rotting on that goddamn farm.

From the hall next to me I heard the muffled sobs of Jezzica's mother.

"She's was still a baby …" she cried desolately. "She hadn't even lived yet."

My heart cried out with her too as I listened. My Gordon was still a baby too …

The minutes and my suffering fell into hours. The respirator rose and fell. Gordon became bluer. The staff came and went.

"Why me?" I demanded of the heavens. "What have I ever done to you to deserve this? First you took my Daddy ... then you took my wife ... now you think you can just walk right in here and take my son away from me too."

"Gordon." I whispered focussing all my inner strength on him and holding his shattered hand in mine. "Please son. You have to fight. I know you can do it. I watched you fight for mommy and me when you were no bigger than the size of my hand. Please baby boy. You can't die. It'll kill me if I lose you too."

I don't know how long I sat there pleading with my son to pull through but eventually the others arrived and surrounded his bedside. Scott came still dressed in his Flight suit. He landed the Red Flag jet on the roof of the hospital. Virgil was with him. John came in a few hours later, pale and devastated. Alan, his favourite brother, arrived last of all.

Alan took one look at him and collapsed with grief. Scott, Virgil and John looked on stony faced. They had all been down this road before.

And then came Mother.

My heart wrenched to see her looking so old and frail. I swore she'd aged thirty years in the one day. But as always she thought nothing of herself and immediately tried to support me.

"He'll make it Jeff." she swallowed wrapping her arms around my shoulders and kissing the top of my lowered head. "You'll see sweetie. He's a Tracy son."

It was then he went into cardiac arrest.

And we all broke down knowing this was the end.

"Lucy." I sobbed in silence as the Doctors worked to resuscitate him. "If you ever loved me at all please don't let them take him. My little boys are all I have since I lost you. "

Mother simply prayed, eyes closed, tears running down her cheeks.

You know, I still don't know which of the two of us saved him; Mother with her prayers to a God I didn't believe in or my silent plea to Lucille Amanda Evans. Something inside me still says it was Lucy. But whether it was God, the Tracy tenacity for life or the intervention of the dead, Gordon Cooper Tracy survived and he survived to give me a message which changed not only my life but the lives of all my sons forever.

It came nearly two months later, not long after Gordon had woken from the coma.

"I know this probably sounds stupid Dad but Mom gave me this funny message when I was over there." Gordon rasped shyly. "She said I wasn't allowed to change the words because otherwise you wouldn't know what it meant."

I looked at the poor broken young man whose side I had rarely left for nearly two months. He had lost everything. Whilst he'd been fighting for his life he'd been discharged from WASP and blamed for the accident. I'd had to tell him he'd lost his beloved Jezzica. And at the moment we didn't know whether he'd be able to walk again either.

I didn't like discussing Lucy with anybody and I had been very upset when he told everyone he had "spoken" to his Mother when he was in cardiac arrest. But I was sure I could humour him for a few minutes about his imaginary conversation. I was willing to do anything to make the boy feel better.

"So what did she say to you son?" I asked pretending I believed him.

His honey eyes became thoughtful and seemed to change colour at that moment. Suddenly they looked like the bottomless velvet brown pools I had once gazed at with so much love and devotion all those years ago.

"Dad ... The message is "just do it" because you know it will make you happy." he told me.

Then he shrugged his bandaged shoulders. "Whatever that means Sir."

"What a strange message." Mother mused in the chair beside me. "But I have to admit it's the sort of thing Lucille would say." She looked over at me. "Does it mean anything to you Jeff?"

I simply looked at Gordon and then Mother in amazement and for a while I couldn't find the words to speak.

Did it mean anything?

If only they realised it meant EVERYTHING!!!!

She had given me her approval.

She wanted me to do it.

She too felt the world needed International Rescue.

If she approved of it, I knew it had to be right.

I rose from my chair and walked to the window to look at the evening star as it shone brightly in the darkened heavens.

Lucille Amanda Evans. My light, my star, my everything.

A beautiful young woman I met by chance in a crowded room in London all those years ago.

Suddenly I seemed to understand it all. Why things had happened the way they did.

I had been destined to meet Lucille Evans as a young Astronaut. I had been destined to fall in love with her and bring her to America. I had been destined to be the Father of her five sons. I had been destined to struggle alone and raise them to be the fine young men they were. I was destined to become the man I was today because my life had been touched by the special magic of Lucille Evans.

"Just do it."

Those words and the last words she ever said to me echoed through my head as I gazed with longing at the evening star.

"Only ever you …"

There would only ever be her too.

"You know I believe I'm going to do for you Luce." I whispered as the tears welled in my eyes. "You just sit back up there and watch me."

And the rest, as you know my friends, is history.

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I hope you enjoyed the read and Merry Christmas to you all. I head off for a bit of a break from writing now but when I return, the final instalment of "Tales of a Grandmother:" will be posted.

TALES OF A GRANDMOTHER - THE EPILOGUE - A GIFT OF SOMETHING SPECIAL.

Have a safe holiday season with those you love. Remember - never take life for granted... mcj

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