Sometimes the drive out to Carmel Ridge was quick, if his mind was busy with other things. Other times, it was incredibly long, if he got a call saying they needed him to come out because she was really bad and they were hoping he could reach her. But this time...it was interminable. Not because she was having a bad time--he'd called that morning and they said she seemed to be doing really well--but because he was dreading this visit, his mind wandering of its own accord over everything that could possibly go wrong. What it wouldn't do is consider how many ways it could go right. Alex gave up trying to talk to him. He was going to worry until this was over and there was nothing she could do about it.

Maggie had been up bright and early, eager to get underway to go to visit Gramma. It was with difficulty that Goren convinced her that Gramma would not be up before the sun was and she had to wait. He had tucked her in between them, but she wouldn't settle down, and finally, he gave up and got up with her so her mother could sleep for a few more hours. Now she sat in her carseat in the back, singing "Over the River and Through the Woods." He couldn't help but think If only she knew...

He was drawn from dark thoughts by his wife's gentle hand on his thigh. He looked at her, and she smiled. "Try to relax," she said softly. "They said she was doing well today."

"You have no idea how quickly she can go from doing well to get out of the room. I once went from her son to one of Satan's demons in eight minutes."

Her fingers lightly moved against his jeans and she replied, "Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, she and Maggie will click?"

The expression on his face told her it hadn't. She turned her eyes back to the road, but left her hand on his leg. "Click?" he said softly, turning his head to the right and thinking about that.

She raised her hand to trail her fingers along his cheek. "It's going to be all right. If your mom is looking forward to this half as much as Maggie is, everything will be fine. So stop trying to imagine how wrong this will go and think about how right it will be."

"I, uh..."

"Don't even try to tell me you weren't. I know you better. Stop worrying and just play it by ear."

He sighed and laced his fingers into hers. "I'll try."

"Daddy?"

He turned his head to look at her. "What is it, mouse?"

"Will Gramma like me?"

He smiled warmly. "I'm sure she will."

"Is she my on'y Gramma?"

"Yes, baby. Your other grandma died when you were a baby."

"An' Grandpa is my on'y grandpa?"

"Yes. Your other grandpa died before you were born."

"Grandpa loves me."

"Yes, he does. Very much."

"So Gramma will, too!"

He laughed softly. "I like your logic, mouse."

"What's logic?"

"It's the way you think so that everything makes sense."

"Oh. Ok, Daddy."

She resumed her singing and he turned to look at Eames, who was smiling. "What?" he asked.

"I love listening to you explain things to her."

"What's wrong with my explanation?"

"Not a thing. That's what I love. Her world makes sense when you explain it to her."

He was quiet for a moment. "My world never made sense to me. I don't want her to go through that."

"Her world is very different from the one you grew up in."

"Thank God," he whispered, turning back toward the window. She gripped his hand tightly and he closed his eyes, grateful once again that she was his.

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She slid the car into an empty spot and turned the engine off. It was a beautiful day, brightly sunny but cool. A perfect late September day. She got out of the car and waited while Bobby got Maggie from her carseat. Instead of setting her on the ground, he held her in one arm and she slipped her arm around his neck. Eames smiled when the little girl buried her fingers in her father's hair. She was nervous, and that was the only way she showed it. She walked around the car and slid her hand into his free one, squeezing firmly. "Ready?"

"No."

"Come on."

They headed into the building. The unit secretary looked up as they approached and smiled. "Hello, Bobby."

"Hi, Sylvia. What are you doing here on a Saturday?"

"Iris is sick." She smiled at Maggie. "Who is this pretty little lady?"

"This is Maggie."

"Hello, Maggie. I'm Sylvia."

Maggie smiled back at her. "Hi. I'm going to visit my Gramma."

"I'll bet your gramma will be thrilled to see you." She looked at Alex. "Hello, Alex. It's good to see you again. I'm glad he's finally bringing you out to visit her."

"So am I," she said with a smile.

"How are you feeling?"

She rested her hand on the swell of her belly and replied, "Huge. But it's going well. Three more months."

"A Christmas baby," Sylvia exclaimed with a smile, looking back at Goren. "Are you hoping for a son?"

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Mom said she hopes it's a boy, but I really don't care one way or the other." He sighed and asked, "Um, how is she now?"

"Sally is her nurse today, and she said she's fine. She's excited that you're bringing Maggie to visit."

The corner of his mouth turned up into a half-smile. "I know she is."

Sylvia smiled at Maggie. "Enjoy your visit with your gramma, Maggie."

"Thank you, Sivia."

Sylvia laughed pleasantly. "She's sweet, Bobby."

He kissed Maggie's cheek. "Thanks. We'll see you later."

"Have a good visit."

Halfway down the hall, he muttered, "I hope so."

Eames squeezed his side. "Stop worrying. It won't help anything."

He sighed. All this time and she still didn't understand. But it was one thing that he hoped she never would.

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Frances Goren sat by the window, looking out across the lawn that stretched to the west of the building. She looked at the time for the hundredth time that morning. They would be here soon. She smoothed her dress and readjusted her gray hair. Bobby was bringing his little girl to visit. She had told everyone, showing them the picture of her smiling granddaughter with her daddy's dark eyes and curly hair. She was a beautiful girl. She had noticed the resemblance between father and daughter from the earliest pictures he had shown her, but he had never believed her. It was impossible, he'd said. Alex was married to someone else. That, she had seen, caused her gentle son a great deal of pain, and she knew of no way to help him with it. When the little girl was born, regardless of who he thought her father was, she had seen a dramatic change in him. It didn't matter who Maggie belonged to. In his heart, she belonged to him. Every week, when he came to visit, he would tell her about Maggie. He always had pictures to show her. She had never seen any man take a child so close to his heart. If it was possible, seeing him so in love with that child had made her love him even more. In spite of her illness, she had to have done something right in raising her younger son. Bill, Jr., had been too much like his father, and he headed down the path of his father's life early. But Bill, Sr., had resented Bobby's closeness to her. He had made the boy's life miserable in many ways, and she tried to make that up to him. She knew that she had given him difficult times as well, but she always tried to make that up to him when she could. And now...she couldn't ask for a better son. Bobby loved her, in spite of everything, and any man who could love a child so much could not have an ounce of Bill Goren anywhere in his blood.

She had been surprised when Bobby told her that he and Alex had gotten married, but it was a wonderful surprise and she was happy for him. The shadows that had lingered behind his eyes in recent years were gone. And when he told her that Maggie was indeed his child, well, that had come as no surprise at all to her. Now, she was going to meet the little girl who had brought so much happiness to her son's life. And she couldn't wait.