All familiar characters belong to Janet. The mistakes are mine alone.

Leaving the Caribbean, I was feeling as surprised as Steph was about to. By the time the pizza dough had been ready to rise halfway through Bobby's punishment, I had to take his firearm away from him. I doubt he'd actually shoot Kane in front of Olive and Stephanie, let alone his pregnant wife, but I recognized the signs of Brown reaching his limit. Kane's relentless 'help' had Bobby's body tense and his mind veering towards homicidal. Brown wasn't unarmed even though I took his gun away, but I would've been able to disarm him before his knife found flesh. He'd regained control by the time the pizza was cooked, and cut himself a slice instead.

"Bobby really wasn't going to eat a bite of Kane's pizza, was he?" Steph asked me, during the flight to Miami International Airport where she doesn't know we're stopping.

"It was a pride thing, Babe."

She smiled. "Pride goeth before a slice a pizza then, because Bobby ate almost a whole one all by himself."

"Men are more willing to forgive certain irritations if the right motivation is presented," I shared, as I flipped the stuffed page for Olivia in her favorite baby animal book.

"Our suite did smell incredible when Kane was all done."

"It very well could've been his last meal, so it had to be good."

"He and Bobby are really good friends, no one was going to die," she assured me.

"You are right about that."

Something in my eyes or tone had her pausing in sliding a giraffe-shaped barrette into our daughter's hair to keep Olive from having to continually swipe the back of her little hand at the offending strands. It's such a familiar gesture, having watched Stephanie do the same to her curls for years, I'm almost sorry she found a solution to Olivia's frustration.

Steph wanted to get some type of souvenir from our island stay that could go into Olivia's solid wood 'Treasure Chest' which had Olivia Adora Manoso carved into the front of a small keepsake box that looks similar to a pirate's treasure chest. A handcrafted-with-love gift from Louis. But my wife wanted to get our daughter something that would have a memory attached to it and a story behind it to tell her when she's older, yet also be a practical item. Steph spotted the package of baby barrettes in the small tourist shop not far from our hotel. Since Olive showed an interest in Harper's panda-print sneakers, Steph zeroed in on the pastel giraffe clips. Our baby seemed to enjoy them, reaching up now not to move her dark hair off her forehead, but to check to make sure her animal friend is still where he/she belonged.

"Maybe it wasn't safe to let Bobby and Cal fly back with Kane and Harper," Steph said after a minute. "They could've come with us."

"They could have, but we're not going straight back to Jersey and Tank deserves a break for carrying the load while we took this vacation. Brown can help cover things until we're back."

Steph froze at the news, which made Olive pause in her storytelling attempt and look first to Steph and then at me.

I leaned over her car/plane seat and kissed her temple. "That face means Mama is surprised and also suspicious," I informed my daughter.

"Mummm ... mummm ... mummm," she said back.

"Can you ask Daddy where we're going? There's a slight chance he'll say where ... if his favorite girl asks him."

"I'll tell my two favorite girls that we're going to see the third tied for top ranking in my life," I told them.

Her smile was immediate. "Of course we're seeing Julie! We're practically flying over her house, so it's nothing for you to tell the pilot to hang a slight left. You know what that means, Olive?"

"Olivia hasn't even mastered vowels, Babe, give her time before expecting consonants or a full answer."

"Alright Mr. Smartass ... Olive, we're going to see your big sister, Julie. Aren't you excited?"

A grin was toying with my lips as I watched the two of them. "You clapped, Steph. Naturally she's going to copy her Mama and mirror your clapping. That doesn't mean she knows we're visiting Julie."

"You think you're so smart," my wife told me, "but so is your daughter. Look what else she can copy ..."

A bark of laughter broke free as Stephanie placed her thumb against her nose and wiggled the remaining four fingers at me. My precious baby girl followed her Mama's example once again ... and the tip of her tiny, damp thumb touched the tip of her nose right on cue.