Author's Note –This makes me kind of sad but eventually the Tales must end. And what better way to have them end than with a gift … the gift of something special... mcj

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

TALES OF A GRANDMOTHER – THE EPILOGUE

"The Gift of Something Special"

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

What an absolutely wonderful party and what a fabulous time I've had celebrating my seventy five years of life with my son Jeff and my five precious Grandsons.

Tonight has stirred up so many memories for all of us and those memories, whilst sometimes sad and difficult to dwell on, are all very very special. But as I said in the beginning, there's nothing ordinary about the Tracy family and they've always been something special.

There are many more stories I could tell you about Jeff and how he raised his boys but for now I think you have heard more than enough to know how we got to be such a loving, close-knit family. Besides that, my motto has always been "the less said the better" and let me tell you there are quite a few things about this family which are better left unsaid.

And so with Dinner now over and the celebrations coming to a close, I gratefully accept the glass of cognac Kyrano has handed me and allow him to escort me back into the lounge room on the security of his firm, outstretched arm.

"Won't you please be seated over here Mrs Tracy?" he requests in his warm and gracious Malaysian tone. "I understand from Mr. Tracy that he has a special surprise he wishes to give you."

I try not to frown when he utters those words but it's rather hard to retain my composure when I remember why. Those are exactly the same words Jeff used on my sixty-third birthday before he sat me on the couch in New York and introduced me to Kyrano ; his last little "surprise."

"Happy birthday Mom. You can finally retire."

I still feel the blood rush to my cheeks at the memory of those words and twelve years later I'm still recovering from the "surprise" too.

I refuse to allow the thought sour my mood and smile politely at Kyrano, seat myself in my favourite armchair and prepare to be "surprised" again. But as I sip my cognac and marvel at its rich, flavoursome body, I notice Jeff is conspicuous by his absence.

So it is my Grandsons who surround me, each of them holding out their own "surprises" and asking me to open theirs first. I look around at the five of them as they compete for my attention and find it hard to stifle an amused smile. They may be ice-cool and fearless in the face of danger but when it comes down to anything to do with their Grandma they become nothing more than five, rowdy little boys.

And I love them.

But then I have to admit it's hard to love any of them at the moment. All of them are arguing loudly and once they start, each of them as stubborn and self-willed as the other, it's hell and high water in the Tracy household.

"I'm the eldest. It's only right I should go first."

"Since when?"

"Since I took my first breath three years in front of you."

"Age has nothing to do with it. What ever happened to democracy?"

"The eldest goes first . That's democracy where I come from."

"And what planet is that?"

"Look I'm giving Grandma my present first and that's all there is to it."

"How come you're making all the rules?"

"I will be making all the rules when Dad goes to New York."

"Yeah well you're not makin' 'em now."

I begin to laugh and hold up my free hand begging them all to stop.

"Boy! Boys! Boys!" I interject. "That's enough! "

Then the voice of command sounds from the doorway.

"Yes it is thank you boys." Jeff rumbles in his deep, authoritative tone. "There's no contest here and I might add you shouldn't be subjecting your Grandmother to your petty arguments at eleven o'clock in the evening."

After glaring at each of my Grandsons in turn Jeff strides forward into the lounge room with a purpose and as he does so, issues his instructions with the same precision he issues instructions during a rescue mission.

"Right ... Scott ... I want you to take a back seat on this one." he stresses firmly. "Let John go first for a change."

His eyes then fix on Virgil, Gordon and Alan.

"And the rest of you just pipe down. You'll get your turn in a minute."

With that he comes and stands beside me, placing an affectionate arm about my shoulders. The room falls into a respectful silence as the boys all take their seats. Jeff Tracy has given his orders and everyone knows to obey.

John tries very unsuccessfully to hide the gleam of triumph on his face as he comes forward and presents me with his gift. For once in his life the middle child has taken precedence over everyone and he can hardly contain his delight.

"Thanks Dad." he beams and then leans forward to kiss me. "Happy birthday Grandma."

I smile at the handsome young man Lucille once called her little star man and picture her face as she held him in her arms as a newborn baby nearly twenty five years before. She had been so disappointed he wasn't the little girl she wanted. But I often think about how Lucille would be feeling if she was able to see her little starman now. I'm sure there would be no feelings of disappointment.

Only pride.

John Glenn Tracy with his discerning mind and astronomical achievements would have made any mother proud.

I move away from how life was in the past and turn my attention to the gift.

The small cylindrical casing within reveals a miniature astronomy charting. The chart is easily recognisable as John's own work... neat ... precise ... accurate. Wrapped inside the chart is a velvet box containing an elegant gold pin. The pin is a one of a kind piece hand decorated with two tiny crystal replicas of the evening star. It is absolutely exquisite and a shining example of his affluent and sophisticated taste.

"Oh honey." I hear myself whisper. "It's just lovely."

He smiles absently at the compliment and eagerly leans forward to explain the chart.

"There have only been two times in eighty years when the evening star has risen higher than it's projected position in the sky Grandma. The first was the day and year you were born and the second was the day and year Mom died. Funny huh? Despite five years of research I still can't offer an explanation for either."

I look at him with love and remember the sad, frightened little boy whose only solace was to look up into the night sky and talk to the evening star.

"Mommy is the brightest star in the sky and while she's there she will never ever die."

John if only she hadn't.

If only she was here to see you now.

Virgil's voice suddenly fills the void.

"Grandma. Would it be all right to open mine next?"

I nod my head at the gentle, expressive face which so reflects all that once was and still is Lucille Evans. Big brown eyes, chestnut hair and an impish Evans face. You are such a gift to your Father Virgil and I am so glad he finally understands that now.

"I would love to open your gift next my darling." I smile tenderly.

He smiles at me in return just as beautifully as his Mother once smiled at his Father. He reaches to his left to hand me a large flat package carefully wrapped in signature brown paper. I don't need to guess what's inside. But as I remove the paper my eyes fill and my face falls, not in disappointment but in a complete and utter sweep of emotion which floods through my body and totally overwhelms me.

This isn't just another one of his paintings.

This painting is a masterpiece.

A pretty young woman with long brown hair and big blue eyes sitting on the steps of a farmhouse surrounded by the flat, yellow carpet of a Kansas wheat field. Holding the hand of the young woman is a tall, handsome young man wearing an old tattered hat, a pair of ragged denim overalls and a great big smile.

"Oh my." I breathe, my heart throbbing with a sentiment I haven't felt for a very long time. "I'd forgotten just how handsome your Grandfather really used to be."

My eyes overflow and I am forced to reach for my handkerchief. It's been a long time since I have allowed myself to remember the special love I once had for Grant Daniel Tracy. His body seems to reach out to me from the beauty of the canvas reminding me of just how wonderful our love was ...the yearning ... the touch... the intimacy .He always made me feel like I was the most beautiful woman in the world when I was in his arms and no matter how old I am or how old I become, I will never forget how it felt.

My heart begins to ache.

If only I could feel the gentle touch of his hand ...

If only I could see him smile at me ...

Or hear his voice ...

Or have him brush his lips against mine ...

I lower my head and wipe my eyes. Jeff's hand gently squeezes my shoulder. He knows how much I loved his Father.

"It's just wonderful son." he comments proudly. "Did you copy it from a photograph?"

Virgil shakes his head.

"No Sir. I just painted it from the things Grandma told me when I was growing up. She used to tell me about the farm and about Grandpa and I guess I kind of guessed the rest. "

My eyes continue to gaze at the handsome, sun-tanned face and those beautiful dark blue eyes I had adored.

I had loved that tattered old hat.

I had loved those ugly denim overalls.

I had loved him.

I would always love him.

"I'll hang it for you in the morning Grandma. " Virgil promises, dragging me from my thoughts and leaning forward to kiss me on the cheek. "Happy birthday."

My eyes shine as I squeeze his suntanned hand with mine. You dear, sweet, wonderful boy. Thank God for the gift of your Mother's talents Virgil and long may they give us all joy.

Oh dear.

With all the emotion of the moment I've only just realised it's Gordon's turn next.

I immediately brace myself for what I know is inevitably to follow. I know I shouldn't say this because he's my Grandson but nothing makes me more nervous than the sight of that boy's mischievous grin and thoughts of his dreadfully warped sense of humour.

Nothing.

"Now Gordon this isn't going to explode or make my hands turn blue is it?" I ask firmly, taking the long rectangular box from his hands and giving him a warning glare.

The child with the heart and soul of Lucille Evans looks at me with his honey-brown eyes and feigns to be hurt.

"Of course not ma'am." he replies indignantly. "What sort of Grandson do you think I am?"

Scott rolls his eyes.

"We all know what sort of Grandson you are little brother. Why do you think Grandma's asking?"

Gordon reddens and folds his arms defensively. "Geez, one or two little jokes and a guy's branded for life."

"One or two?" sounds Jeff's gruff voice followed by his deep, melodious laughter. "I think you need to learn to count boy if that's all you think you've been up to."

"Dad!" he frowns. "You're supposed to back me up."

"I haven't backed you up since the day you dyed that cat orange!" Jeff chuckles. "And I'm not about to make the mistake of starting now!"

My attention reverts back to the long rectangular "box." Lord knows what this lover of mischief and mayhem has dreamt up this year. I hold my breath and try to look in control of the situation as I warily lift the lid. But as the contents come into view my eyes suddenly become anything but wary and I let my breath go in one very big unhappy huff.

My face colours and my ire builds.

"Surprise Grandma!!!!" he grins opening his arms wide and allowing a smile to broaden his handsome features.

"Oh dear." I hear Tin-Tin murmur into Alan's shoulder.

For a split second there's a deathly silence but the silence certainly doesn't last for long. Alan, John and Virgil simply can't keep themselves under control and burst into hysterical laughter.

Scott certainly knows better than to laugh at a time like this and simply swallows hard.

"Err ... gee son ... it's errr ...a very nice thought." Jeff stammers glancing nervously in my direction.

"Isn't she a beaut Grandma?" Gordon continues to enthuse, completely oblivious to my agitated facial expression. "What do you think? Don't you just love it ma'am?"

I take a deep breath.

"No for your information I DO NOT LOVE IT young man!" I flash putting down my cognac and preparing to rise to my feet.

His face falls.

"Huh? What's wrong with it Grandma?" he queries sounding confused. "I thought all little old ladies needed a walking stick."

I see Jeff's eyes widen with panic. He more than anyone knows the signs of an impending explosion and they widen further when he hears my voice lower and start to become stern.

"Are you saying to me I NEED something like this boy?"

Gordon finally realises I'm serious and takes a step back at the tone.

"Oh no... no... ma'am. Did I say that? No I would never .... never say that." he stammers shaking his head vigorously.

The rooms suddenly fills with laughter as I wave the walking stick in his direction and threaten him with physical harm if he ever suggests I use it.

"Gee whiz Grandma." he says in a sulky voice. "I was only trying to help you out in your old age."

"Sure you were." is the chorus from the lounge room.

Even Gordon caves in at that point and bursts into laughter.

"Well ma'am I guess I should look on the bright side. At least it kept your heart rate up."

"Heart rate???? " I exclaim frowning at Lucy's red-haired rascal. "One more word out of you and I'll wrap this walking stick around your hind parts young man!" Then we'll see whose heart rate's up!"

My frown instantly turns to a smile as he winks at me and returns to the security of his seat. How would we ever cope without a reminder of his Mother's mischief?

Once everyone has settled down again, Alan looks nervously at his brothers before coming forward to present me with his gift. His brilliant blue eyes are pensive as he holds out a small elegantly wrapped package towards me.

"Happy birthday Grandma." he says quietly. "Umm ... it's not just from me. It's from Tin-Tin too."

There's an immediate rumble around the room and an undercurrent of comments from his brothers. He reddens and adds. "I'd also appreciate it if you opened it later Grandma. What's inside is kind of private."

The rumbles escalate into teasing and it doesn't take long before his temper flares.

"Look you guys cut it out will you?" he flashes. "I bought it. Tin-Tin wrapped it. Don't read anything else into it."

"Of course not Al."

"Hey we believe you."

"What are friends for?"

"Especially best friends."

My own eyes scan the two of them up and down. My mind moves into overdrive and my imagination runs away with me. He knows what I want more than anything ... and he did say I'd be the first to find out when it happened... and she's been looking worried ..."

"I'll open it later." I say quietly. "And I'm sure whatever's inside is something I want and something very special."

He shrugs.

"I don't think it's quite what you're hoping for Grandma but I'm sure you'll like it anyway."

Jeff doesn't look too pleased about all the secrecy but luckily he isn't having anything to say about it for now. He gives Alan a suspicious glance before looking in Scott's direction and instructing him to proceed.

"All right son ..." he nods. "Your turn next."

I smile at my eldest Grandson as he hands me his gift. He is such a perfectionist that boy. The box is wrapped in the finest silver paper money can buy and carefully adorned with a large dark blue and silver ribbon.

"Now that's class big brother." nods Gordon in mock admiration. "Which Department Store did you have to get to do it for you this time?"

Scott's eyebrows knit together and he immediately rivets his attention on his red-haired brother.

"I'll have you know what's in this box can't be brought in a Department store wise guy." he frowns. "AND for your information I wrapped the God-damned thing myself."

After clearly making his point in same direct and no nonsense way his Father does he returns his attention back to me. Instantly the tone of his voice changes from one of annoyance to one of love and gentleness.

"I hope you like what's inside Grandma." he says tenderly, kissing my cheek and crouching down beside me. "Happy birthday."

I reach out my hand to touch his handsome face.

Scott Carpenter Tracy.

You may be the image of your Father young man but you still have each and every one of your Mother's beautiful traits ebbing in your veins.

The box inside the silver paper is inexpensive and as I open the lid to reveal the contents I find it contains little more than a piece of somewhat yellowed paper. I pick it up and turn it over with interest. The paper has been folded, re-folded and folded many times and is obviously something very old and very precious to the heart of my Grandson.

But strangely enough he looks uncomfortable as I unfold it and it is extremely uncommon for Scott to be uncomfortable about anything. But I soon understand why. The words on the page are carefully written in pencil and are the words of a little boy. One by one each word looms up at me from the page. This is the most precious, timeless gift any Grandmother could ever hope to receive.

"My Grandma" by Scott Tracy

My Grandma is kindest person in the whole world. She is taller than me but not much. She has long brown and grey hair that sits on her head like a big lump. She wears glasses because she says she is as blind as a bat. Grandma used to live in Kansas on a big farm with a tractor but now she has to live in Boston with us. She sleeps in a big bed downstairs in the room where my Mommy used to paint and play her piano. Grandma gets up early every day and she does many things for me and my little brothers. She does lots of things for my Daddy too. Grandma is very busy and I try to help her when I can. I am not very good at most of the things she does, especially the diapers but Grandma says one day I will be good at them if I keep trying. I love my Grandma very much. I am very lucky to have her."

"Oh sweetie." I breathe with tears welling in my eyes. "How old were you when you wrote this?"

"Nine ma'am." he shrugs.

"It's a beautiful tribute." I reply.

Our eyes meet and my mind goes back in time.

Nine.

A sad, motherless little boy trying to relieve the pain of his loss by diligently helping me tend to his little brothers. Would I ever forget how selfless he was as a child? How selfless he still was as a man?

My attention is suddenly drawn to the grading on the top of the paper.

"A "D"?" I frown. "Your Teacher gave you a D for this son?"

Scott nods, reddens and looks with apology towards his Father. "Yes ma'am."

"It was the only D I ever got in my whole life and I never told anyone." he finishes quietly.

I read the accompanying red scrawl pointing out the paper was supposed to have been about his Mother, not his Grandmother. Even though twenty years has elapsed and it doesn't really matter anymore I still begin to feel angry. How could any Teacher grade such a sweet lovely piece of writing with a "D" let alone overlook the fact the little boy had just lost his Mother in the worst possible circumstances? The woman must have had rocks in her head. I had a good mind to go down to that school right this minute and give her a piece of my mind!

Jeff's gentle touch to my shoulders brings me back to earth. It's eleven o'clock in the evening. I'm on Tracy Island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I'm no longer living in Boston and the Grandson in front of me is no longer nine years old.

"It's a damn disgrace!" I still mutter in a disgruntled tone. "Stupid woman!"

But as usual Scott keeps an even head about everything.

"Grandma please don't go building yourself up. The Teacher I got after the summer was new and she didn't know what had happened to Mom."

I look up at Jeff. His face shows no emotion. He knows he never took the time to go near that school to explain our family situation. I was always the one doing all the explaining.

"Why didn't you say anything to her son?" he finally asks.

Scott looks at his Father and then lowers his head almost as if he is being admonished.

"I didn't like talking about what happened to Mom Sir." is his quiet admission.

"Well why didn't you tell me?" his Father frowns. "I would have straightened her out for you."

Dark blue eyes lift to meet dark blue eyes.

"Dad. You didn't like talking about what happened to Mom either Sir."

The silence in the room is deafening. Five little boys raised in a military environment, not permitted a glimpse of a photograph, not permitted the imagination of a memory, not permitted the comfort of a name.

In the face of the truth no-one knows what to say.

But funnily enough for the first time in twenty one years Jeff does.

"Well son that was very true at the time but I assure you I wouldn't have allowed that paper to stay graded at a D if you'd told me about it."

Scott shrugs his shoulders again.

"The whole thing was very upsetting at the time Dad but it doesn't matter to me anymore. I just wanted Grandma to have the paper as a memory that's all."

His face reflects a certain sadness as he smiles at me.

"I meant every word of what I wrote Grandma. I still do."

"I know you do sweetie." I whisper. "You're a fine boy."

Now the heckling has really begun in earnest.

"Can you believe Scott actually got a D in something?"

"Mr A-man is a human being after all!"

"Took us twenty years to find out though."

"And HE had the nerve to bust my butt for failing in College"

"I would have done more than just busted your butt Alan if you hadn't pulled your Grades up !!!!" is the laconic reply.

"Yeah OK. Point taken. But from where I come from a D's a D Scott."

"And you sure got enough of 'em to know Alan."

Suddenly Jeff puts an abrupt end to the teasing. It's time for his "surprise."

He commands everyone to settle down and leave Scott alone.

He then asks all of us to take our seats.

Everybody obliges.

Once everyone is attentive he walks into the centre of the room and clears his throat.

Dear Lord, by the look on his face I think we'd better prepare ourselves. The man looks like he's about to address the nation and the last time he made one of his big speeches we all ended up moving out into the middle of nowhere.

Oh God what did I say to Kyrano back then about Siberia?

But as he begins to speak I realise we are definitely not going to be moving to Siberia. Jeff Tracy isn't a restless young man anymore. Jeff Tracy has finally found his niche in the world and is a very happy man.

"Mother ... Kyrano ... boys ... Tin-Tin ... I'm really glad you could all be here tonight to celebrate with Grandma. I know she appreciates it and I appreciate it too. It's been a fine meal ... thanks for that Kyrano ... and you too Tin-Tin ... and great music ... thanks a lot Virgil..."

He glances towards the portraits of my Grandsons in their International Rescue uniforms as they hang silently on the wall of the lounge room in front of him.

"And thank you to the rest of the world for not getting itself into trouble for a while so we could all enjoy the celebrations."

There is a general laughter around the room as he realises none of us have given International Rescue a thought for the past couple of hours.

I watch him swallow and I recognise the signs immediately; the excessive blinking, the shake of his head, the unhappy glance at the ceiling. He's not thinking about International Rescue at the moment. He's thinking about his little girl.

"And ... umm ... to all of you ... thanks for allowing me to sit back tonight and relive some mighty fine memories."

He swallows and looks out the window at the evening star.

"Mighty fine." he whispers.

Then he turns to look at me.

"Mother ... This is all about you and I want you to know I think you are a one hell of a great lady. You worked beside Dad on our farm for more years than I care to remember without complaint and without a lot of reward. You always looked on the bright side no matter what came along and the thing I remember most was you always had a smile on your face. Hell I can even remember you smiling when you nearly ran over Daddy with the tractor. Boy I sure remember that day all right. I still hear you telling him to stop his cussing and lighten up."

I nod my head and roll my eyes at the memory of that day in the wheat field. Stupid man had gotten himself in the way and wondered why I nearly ran over him with the tractor. When I stopped the darned thing and proceeded to laugh my head off he was furious. Grant Tracy was a mighty fine man and he made me very happy but he never had much of a sense of humour that was for sure.

"And did he lighten up Dad?" laughs Gordon.

Jeff looks and me and then at Gordon.

"Oh he lightened up all right. It was the first and last time he ever let your Grandmother go anywhere near that tractor."

Everyone laughs at the memory before Jeff continues.

"Dad was a great Father but he sure was a hard one. But you Mother, you were never hard. You were always something special."

I smile.

"Thank you. I think you're pretty special too."

He smiles back and at that moment is the spitting image of his Father.

"Well I might have been special but not according to Dad. Dad said I was a Dreamer and you always had to stick up for me and say there was nothing wrong with a man daring to dream. You said it was wonderful I wanted to be a pilot even though you knew Daddy wouldn't agree and still expected me to be a Farmer. I don't know how you ever did it Mom but somehow you persuaded him to let me go. I'll always be grateful to you for that."

I nod my head at the memory. It would have been wrong for Jeff to have stayed on the farm one second longer than he did and I know Grant never really forgave me for talking him into letting Jeff join the Air Force.

"And then ... well ... along came Luce."

I watch as Jeff looks slowly around the room and carefully takes in the features of each of his five sons. All of them have their eyes transfixed on his. He has never opened up like this before and to hear him speak of their Mother is like music to their ears.

"You said I was crazy falling in love with her and it would never work out. I told you point blank you were wrong."

He stops and gives me a pointed look.

"And just for the record Mom ... you WERE wrong about Lucy."

I laugh and look at my Grandsons who are all smiling.

"Yes for once I admit I was VERY wrong." I concur. "Very wrong indeed."

He nods.

"Yes you were and I'm not going to let you forget it in a hurry either. But even though you said it wouldn't last you went out of your way to make very sure it did. You were nothing but good to her when we got married and so hands on with the boys when they were born. We lived a long way from Kansas but you always seemed to know right when Lucy needed you. She'd be struggling with the babies and I couldn't help because of the space programme and all of a sudden you were miraculously there."

He stops again and frowns at me.

"AND I would also like to say at this point you also seemed to know exactly when to show up and poke your nose into matters which I believe were none of your business too."

I find myself blushing. He's obviously still never recovered from the blast I gave him in his Office over Lucille's health, a blast I might say was thoroughly deserved and completely warranted.

His face changes and now I watch him struggle for words before he composes himself and continues.

"And ummm ... when Luce died so unexpectedly and I was left alone to cope with the boys you didn't even hesitate about packing up your life and coming to live in Boston to help me out. I ummm .... know I didn't make it easy for you and I realise it was hell on earth trying to hold me and the boys up ... but I really appreciated it ma'am. More than anythin' on this earth. "

His eyes shine with love and gratitude.

"Momma ... you may not think you do but you still hold me and the boys up even now and I wanna thank you for doing it from the bottom of my heart."

He swallows again as the tears shimmer on the edge of his eyelids.

"And I know if Lucy could be here to say something to you right now, she'd want to thank you for everything you've done for me and our boys too ma'am."

His attention reverts to his sons.

"You see ... without Grandma ... well ... I doubt we would have made it as a family when your Mom died. I really wasn't the best Dad in the world back then."

There is silence in the room and no-one is more silent than I as I remember Jeff's terrible struggle to come to grips with losing Lucille and adjusting to life as a single Father. The grief ... the anger ... the denial ... the tears. Helping him raise those little boys in the face of so much sadness were the hardest years of my life but you know something?

I've never regretted any of it.

My son and my grandsons are everything to me.

Yes there was grief, and anger and denial and tears, but there was love in our home too and lots of it. Jeff did a wonderful job raising his boys alone. He just needed a bit of "advice" now and then when he lost his way.

"Anyway Mother ..." Jeff recommences in a shaky voice. "Without saying too much more I have something I want to give you ... something I promised you a very long time ago and something I've finally managed to get my hands on after all these years ."

He reaches into his jacket pocket and produces a long white envelope which he extends in my direction.

"Happy birthday Mother... and thanks."

I take the envelope from his outstretched hand and see the love and honesty in his eyes.

"What is it son?" I ask looking up at him.

He shakes his head and smiles at me.

"Now how about you just open it for yourself ma'am and see."

The envelope struggles under my impatient fingers and finally opens to allow me to remove the contents; papers; old, yellowed and partially tattered.

But as I unfold them my eyes widen with joy and disbelief. These papers are priceless; the most priceless papers in the whole of my world.

"Oh Jeff." I whisper clutching them to my chest, almost too overcome to say anything. "I can't believe it."

"What is it Grandma?" enquire the boys in unison each of them moving forward inquisitively to see what their Father has given me.

But I don't respond to any of them. Instead all I can do is continue to stare at my son.

"Do you think Daddy might forgive me now ma'am?" he asks, his own voice barely above a whisper.

I rise to my feet as I nod my head.

"Yes Jefferson I think today your Daddy would be a very happy man."

He nods his own head in return.

"I'm glad to hear you say that to me Momma. It means more to me than you know."

He comes forward to hug me and we embrace for what seems a very long time. Suddenly he holds me at arm's length and a wide smile steals across his face.

"So how's about taking a bit of a spin out there with me tomorrow?" he winks. "We could even stay a couple of days so I can get some practice in Momma."

"You know I'd really like that Jeff." I reply happily before looking in the direction of my eldest Grandson and clearing my throat. " Errr… hmm… provided of course Scott doesn't mind looking after things for you while we're gone."

None of the boys have a clue what we're talking about and all of them are frowning at the uncharacteristic lightness in their Father's voice. Scott is wearing the biggest frown of all.

"Err pardon me folks but if you don't errr… mind me asking, just where in the heck do you two think you're going?" he asks sternly.

Jeff eyes sparkle with mirth and for the first time in a very long time he sounds like he is truly happy.

"Well son I guess it's like this." he replies with a grin. "Your Grandmother and I are off to Kansas in the morning. She's got herself a wheat farm to inspect and I've got me a tractor I want to drive."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"The Prelude to Commitment"

I look down at the tiny heart-shaped photo-frame in my hand and smile to myself as read the pointed inscription.

"The art of being wise is the art of knowing what to overlook."

Alan and Tin-Tin's gift for my seventy fifth birthday.

In the frame there is a photograph; a photograph of the two of them together.

She is smiling, her long black hair cascading over her dusky shoulders. He is smiling too; that dazzling Tracy smile which highlights the blondeness of his hair and accentuates the brilliant blueness of his eyes.

His arm rests on her shoulder. Her head leans towards his.

They fit.

They are a couple.

And they I know I know they are a couple too.

But what they do not know is I know they are intimate.

They also do not know what an old lady prays will be the ultimate result of their intimacy and the special gift she hopes it will soon bring to her.

A great grand-child.

Tracy Island is silent now and the villa is in darkness.

International Rescue sleeps.

But they do not.

They lay locked together deep within each other's arms.

No-one must hear.

No-one must know.

But I know.

And only time will tell if what I pray for is really meant to be.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

THE END

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Author's Note - It is only fitting such a story should end on New Year's Eve 2004 where tonight the Evening Star will be at one of the highest points in the southern hemisphere. I've loved writing every word of Tales. It has also made a bit of a character of Grandma who really didn't have much of a role in the show. I again say this is only my interpretation of events and it was never written to upset or incense anybody. Thank you for your reviews, good and in some cases, not so good. I have a new writing project planned for 2005 as well as continuing with Fences and Families.

I wish all FF writers and readers a Happy 2005.

Open your heart to all who write and embrace all it is they give you.

Regards - mcj

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000