Megan stared at the beautiful, silk ivory Christening blanket that had been in her family for years. Tradition was everything to the Powell's and the antique garment had once belonged to Meg's great grandmother. It was gorgeous and her hands felt the smooth, satiny material.

"It's a beauty, isn't it?"

She turned and saw her father behind her.

"Hi, Daddy", she said softly. "I didn't even hear you come in."

"That's because I was quiet", he smiled as he placed a kiss on the forehead of his oldest daughter.

"I was just admiring this blanket. It's so pretty and I've always loved it."

"It's the same blanket your mother and I used for your Christening. Now you'll get to have it for your child."

"Yeah", she smiled sadly.

"Is Nathan with you?"

"No. He goes on the road tomorrow. Sacramento, Los Angeles, then Denver. Practices ran late all week and I know he's exhausted."

"Are you going with him?"

"No", she shook her head.

Mark Powell sighed.

"Meg…"

"What, Daddy?"

"Don't you think it would be wise to accompany your husband on his travels? Why, when your mother and I got married, anytime the company had to send me somewhere, she was right by my side."

"Well, I don't have the marriage you have, Daddy. I'm not Mom and Nathan sure as hell isn't the man you are."

Mark immediately caught on to her despairing tone.

"Meg, is everything okay?"

"Fine, Dad. Absolutely wonderful. Really. Couldn't be better."

"Don't be facetious", he scolded.

"Well, what do you want to here, Dad? How perfect everything is? How happy we are?"

"I want to hear the truth."

"Sure you do…just like Mom."

Mark sighed as he took a seat.

"Your mother loves you, you know. Laurie just wants what is best for you and our grandchild."

"I know."

"I want the same for you but let's just say I don't quite view the world from rose colored glasses like your mom. I know what's been going on, Megan. I hear the gossip. I read the rumors. I see the papers. And I know you're not happy."

"But divorce is not an option, right? I know, I know. Trust me. Mom and I already had this conversation."

"Is divorce really what you want?"

Megan thought for a minute.

"No. I don't know."

"What do you want, Meg?"

"To be happy. To have my baby. To have Nathan back."

"That's what we all want, dear."

"Fat chance", she laughed. "We are so far away from being happy or normal. I don't even know what that means anymore. I forgot what it feels like."

"What if I gave you another chance to remember it? To feel it again."

"How? How, Daddy? Because that's a miracle right now even God Himself wouldn't want to tackle."

"When your child is born Meg, and you hold that new little life in your arms, only then will you truly know what it's like to be a parent. You'll feel that amazing bond and love for your child. There's nothing like it. You just want to protect him or her with all you have. You wish peace and happiness for every single moment of their lives and anytime they are hurt, then you are hurt. I see what Nathan is doing to you and it kills me."

"Daddy…"

"Every event he spoils by showing up sloppy drunk, every time a compromising picture ends up on the tabloid covers…Nathan is not just affecting you Megan, he's affecting our whole family. Obviously he doesn't give a damn about his own reputation but image and integrity is something I take quite seriously. I don't like to be embarrassed and I don't like my daughter's public fairytale marriage being made a mockery of."

"What can I do? What can you do, Dad? Nathan is Nathan. He is how he is. No matter how bad I might want to or how hard I try, I'm never going to change him. He has to want to change himself. And I'm hoping this baby will be his push in the right direction. Because right now that's my only hope."

Tears began to fall down her face. Her father used his thumb to wipe them away.

"Megan, let me help you. Let me make this better."

He sighed.

"I have my ways. First, find the source of the problem and go from there, you could say."

Megan laughed in spite of herself.

"Oh Daddy…"

"What?"

"Remember when I was in first grade and Julie Hubbard, the resident six year old bully beat me up and stole my tuna sandwich? What did you do?"

"I took care of it."

"Right. And when I was 13 and didn't get into that summer camp I had been talking about all year, what did you do?"

"I took care of it."

"Yes, you did. And senior year of high school when our class did the huge benefit and I didn't sell enough raffle tickets and I was so upset, you…"

"I took care of it, Meg,"

"Dad, you took care of it by writing a check to make up the difference."

"So? What's your point?"

"My point is, you've been 'taking care' of things my whole life. Daddy Powell to the rescue. And don't get me wrong, I am so grateful and I love you for it but you can't save me from my whole life, Dad."

"I can try."

She shook her head.

"What are you gonna do, Daddy? Make him love me?"

"Megan…"

"No. My whole life you have fixed things for me and made things easier for me. You can't do this one. And even if you could, is that what I really want? My husband to want me and love me because of something you did?"

"I just want to help."

"I know…but don't, okay?"

"Meg…"

"You don't have to. I'll be okay."

"You don't look okay."

"Daddy…"

"I hate to see you cry."

"I'm okay. Just please…"

Mark nodded.

"Okay."

"I mean it, Dad. Let me handle this. Promise you won't get involved."

The older man sighed.

"Fine. If that's what you want."

She managed a smile and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you", she whispered.

"If you need me…"

"I know. I know, Dad. Thanks but I have to get going…"

"Alright. Drive safely, dear."

He hugged and kissed her again and watched her leave. He had never lied to his daughter before but once she became a parent, she would understand. Megan would know how hard it was to see your own flesh and blood suffering needlessly. He was a father. He would do what he had to do.

Mark Powell just needed some reinforcement…

He picked up the phone in his private study and dialed the digits. He waited patiently as it rang.

"Hello?"

"It's me. It's Mark Powell."

"Congressman! Good to hear your voice. What can I do for you, son?"

Mark tapped his fingers on the desk.

"I need your help, Dan. I think we have a problem on our hands."