A Year in the Life Well Lived

by songbird1970

A look at life at the cabin over the course of year. Ups and downs, special occasions and the magic of ordinary days.

A Year in the Life Well Lived

A.N. I've taken a different approach with this story, as I am still really a novice and I'm trying some new things. This story is not terribly dialogue-driven. It's more of a story told, with drips of conversation sprinkled into certain scenes. It also has less plot. It's simply a look at a year in the life of a family. It's also pretty fluffy. (I'm a teacher. I need the escape!) If it's not your cup of tea, that's fine. Just telling it the way it came to me. Thank you, as always, for reading. Enjoy.

New years brought new ideas, fresh starts, and do-overs. Each January ushered in a new beginning. The cold winter weather made for endless days spent indoors by the fire, cocooned in safety, preparing for the promise of growth and transformation made possible each spring. Then, like green shoots sprouting from new soil, the earth reawakened, fresh as dew on baby buds.

The current new year had brought them the most precious of treasures, in the birth of a new baby, their first granddaughter. In the wee hours of Christmas Eve, the tiniest of songs heralded new life in a newborn baby's cry. It was the sweetest of sounds, a carol of purest joy.

After yet another year of struggles, the promise of a new beginning was once again gifted to the very extended Family Flynn. While the year to come would surely offer its own challenges, the newness of January infused life and promise in the potential triumph of goodness that awaited.

Their large clan had last gathered for an extended holiday visit. Their children, grandchildren, and dearest friends had come together to celebrate the faith, fun, and fellowship of family. They enjoyed the simplicity and quiet solitude afforded them at their cabin by the lake. Their Flying Monkey, their haven, their Rose of Sharon. It was there they had truly come together, united in their commitment to the family created by two people who, despite a lifetime of disappointment and hurt, had chosen to pledge themselves to healing together. In making their vow to one another, they had also made covenant to give their respective children what they had missed and most longed for, a family. They were gifted with a family that leaned on and fought for one another, that rallied for, advocated for, and celebrated one another. The result was awe-inspiring. It was magnetic and inviting, drawing others in. It was more than they ever dreamed.

Their Christmas gathering was nothing short of magical. With the surprise visit from Sharon's aging parents, to the birth of baby Sharon Rose, to the complete dearth of any catastrophe ending in a hospital stay, it was truly splendid, as Christmas should be.

The new year had sent their children back to their lives, their own jobs and relationships. Sharon Rose, of course, returned home with her doting parents and proud big brothers. Friends Mark and Anne, their in-laws courtesy of daughter in law Holly, stayed on an extra week before heading back to the city. Now, there remained Sharon's parents, William and Maggie, who would stay on until the weather warmed and, of course, their housemates, the Provenzas. If they had ever doubted Sharon's former second in command, and Andy's partner, would be a fitting permanent addition, they were now assured. The foursome got along famously. Certainly, there remained the silly bickering the two older gents were famous for, but it was largely in fun. They were as devoted to each other as ever, a product of years of willingness to take a bullet for a brother.

Their wives took it all in stride, or simply took to the back porch with a glass of wine, leaving them to work out their squabbles on their own.

With the rest of family gone, they settled into a more relaxed routine. Days were spent in quiet splendor. They enjoyed lively conversation over simple, hearty meals which were, themselves, worth celebrating. Puzzles were worked, fish were caught. There were walks along the lake, old radio dramas, and evenings huddled around the fire. Simple bliss.

January was cold, with temperatures topping out in the upper forties. They had the essentials, plenty of food and firewood. There were sleighrides for those fancying a bit of whimsy. Andy and Sharon had both grown up in the cold and knew what it took to live there, though both had spent their adult years in sunny Los Angeles. Still, they had adapted well to the cold weather that settled over Big Bear Lake the first couple of months of each year. They also appreciated that the warmer months were much milder at that altitude.

Their daily morning hikes around the lake now happened a few hours later, when the snow burned off and it was safe to walk. With a still-healing leg, Andy could ill-afford the smallest slip. With a walking stick in one hand and his wife's small fingers braided through the other, he stood on the peak of the moderate rise of the hill near the water, opposite their cabin, and enjoyed the view. The sprawling home sat nestled in a frame of sugar pines and the lawn sloped gently near the lake. A dock jutted out over the water and a small cedar dinghy floated alongside it, awaiting a crew. It was a picture worth framing, and not a day passed without a pause at the crest to appreciate it.

"How's the leg?" Sharon asked her husband as she sat beside him on the hill. She knew she asked the same questions during each day's hike, but he hadn't complained.

"Feels good, strong. Not like the parts are shifting around inside anymore," he said.

"Ugh. I remember that feeling. Made my insides turn when I felt it," she said, shaking her head at the thought. It was a memory that stayed with her, her own body battered by an accident that had, for a time, robbed her of her sight. It was precisely why her husband, a known complainer, had vowed to himself not to utter a word of protest at his own situation. It was done and dusted. He'd fallen from the tree he was prepping for his grandsons' treehouse. He'd been in pain, yes, but had not lived in fear and darkness and uncertainty. He'd suffered multiple breaks, but was healing well. He'd be silent and grateful.

Sharon looked at her love with a curious glint in her eye. "May I tell you once again how impressed I've been with your, um, sunny disposition through all of this? Not to put too fine a point on it, but you're usually a..."

"Grouchy pain the butt?" He tempered his language in deference to her. She loathed crass language, an art he had once perfected, but had largely managed to abandon.

"Well, yes," she laughed. "You've never been so pleasant and well behaved with an injury before."

He'd told her several times over the many, many weeks since his fall that he simply would not whine about it. Not this time.

"Sharon," he pulled her close. "I can see you; I can hold you." Pulling her in for a lingering kiss, he continued. "I can kiss you. I can touch you. I promise you, I've not a complaint in the world."

She studied him closely, lost in those October eyes. He always insisted he wasn't good with words. If he only knew how wrong he was.

"Andy," she murmured. When he kissed her again, she melted into his warmth, which rivalled that of the sun.

"I know," he replied, reading her as easily as ever.

They remained rooted in place, a bulwark against the tide seemingly always ready to toss them about.

"Ready to head back? I need more coffee," he said, to which she chuckled.

"Lead on," she replied, gesturing to the path.

Pungent spices and a warm fire greeted them upon their return. Leaving their coats and shoes by the back door, they padded into the great room in their socks. Pausing briefly before the hearth, they toasted their hands and feet, before crossing toward the kitchen. Two mugs of steaming warmth waited on the counter. Having heard the back door close, Sharon's mother had poured a cup of coffee for Andy, and tea for her daughter.

Andy approached his mother-in-law, grabbing the mug from the counter on the way, and kissed her cheek. "Thanks, Maggie. Just what I need after our hike."

She giggled and rolled her eyes at him.

"That's just what you say every morning," she replied. "You're a creature of habit, Son."

Andy looked at her with feigned shock.

"Did she just call me boring and predictable?" he asked his wife teasingly.

"Well, if not, I will," came the booming baritone of his old partner, Provenza, as he entered the cabin, laden with grocery bags.

"I'm maligned in my own home," Andy playfully sulked.

"Oh hush," his wife laughed. "Drink your coffee while it's hot." Turning to their friends, Sharon reached out to help. "Here. Let me take some of that."

"I've got this," Provenza said. "You can help Patrice." She smiled at him. He had softened.

Together, they got the groceries unpacked and put away. When asked about the amount of goods purchased, Sharon's father explained.

"It's gonna snow. We could be packed in good, unable to go out. I suggested we might need some extra provisions and fuel."

Andy cocked his head toward his wife.

"Better gather some extra wood," was her only reply.

Sliding up close to her, he whispered, "There's nothing major in the forecast."

"Maybe not, but my dad's got a knack for predicting the weather, honey. Ignore it at your peril," she said, not joking.

He stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. "I'll lay on more wood."

The snow did fall, and for several days they were content to spend their days keeping warm together in front of the hearth, or pairing off to create their own fire. Whoever said romance wasn't for the old, didn't know a thing. Sometimes, it really was wasted on the young.

Andy Flynn was, generally speaking, a really thoughtful man. With his wife, he was a true romantic. He brought her flowers for no other reason than she loved them, breakfast in bed, a cup of tea. It was second nature to him. For that reason, Valentine's Day would require something more.

His wife didn't need trinkets. She had several exquisite pieces of jewelry, a splendid art collection, and a truly staggering accumulation of shoes, most of which she'd done away with in the move. What she really seemed to appreciate were the smaller, thoughtful gestures, moments to remember and smile on when the storm clouds hovered. So, he began to plan.

While he formed the ideas in his mind into the shape their Valentine's Day would take, he approached his partner and his father-in-law. If they worked together, they could make all the ladies in their life feel special.

Plans were made, lists assembled, and duties divided. With a little luck, they would surprise their wives with an extra special experience.

February fourteenth arrived clear and cold. With a fire burning low in their bedroom hearth, they were blissfully cocooned in warmth. Curled together they greeted the morning, and one another, by sharing a shower and sharing themselves. They then dressed for their morning hike.

Andy grabbed a knapsack and tossed it over his shoulder, and offered a hand to his wife. "I packed a thermos and an extra blanket. It's cold this morning."

"The hike will get our blood pumping and warm us up," she replied. "It's early enough yet, we may find a good spot to watch the sunrise."

He smiled at her and tugged at her hand, heading out into the still dark morning, to race the dawn to the top of the hill.

With plenty of time to spare, they reached the hill's crest. From his knapsack, Andy drew a blanket and thermos. They situated themselves on a level spot overlooking their home, the lake spreading before it like an apron. He unscrewed the cap of the thermos and used it as a cup to hold the steaming hot tea, which he gingerly offered to his wife. Then, drawing her back against him, they settled in to wait for the big show.

The radiant ball began its ascent painting them pink in its rosy glow. The darkened expanse came alight and alive, a golden sheen hanging, like a veil, across the sky.

Andy sat leaning back on one arm, the other draped across his wife's shoulder. While she watched the sunrise, he watched her. He studied the changing light as it altered her face, and smiled.

"You're staring, Mr. Flynn," she said.

"Um hmm," he replied in a graveled baritone. "You bet I am, Mrs. Flynn."

"Andy, it's breathtaking and you're missing it."

"Yes, it is, but I'm not missing it at all, babe."

She finally turned away from the horizon to face him instead. "Andy."

He cupped her face in his hand and, leaning forward, tucked her hair behind her ear. He brushed his thumb across her lips, and closed the gap between them. He kissed her, gently at first, then allowed it to deepen. It wasn't as if they could get into much trouble on top of the rise in the broadening daylight. Well, not too much anyway.

If their daily hike took quite a bit longer today, if they returned with suspicious grins on their faces, well, it was Valentine's Day, after all.

By the time they returned to the cabin, the place was filled with the savory aromas of bacon, sausage, and potatoes. There was a surprising sweetness as well. Cinnamon perhaps, and vanilla. Nutmeg maybe?

They found the large ranch-style table laid in white fabric, a red runner lining the center. There were flowers arranged in the middle and six place settings perfectly positioned and waiting. There were platters of meat, eggs, and French toast, along with a carafe of coffee and a pitcher of juice.

The plan had been for Provenza to see to breakfast for the ladies. Clearly, this was not his partner's work. Andy shot his friend a look, both questioning and perturbed. When he was answered with a shrug and a head tilted toward Sharon's mother, he simply sighed.

"Happy Valentine's Day! Breakfast is served," proclaimed Maggie.

"Mom, this looks amazing. You really didn't have to go to such trouble for us!"

"I didn't," Sharon's mother assured her. "It's Valentine's Day. I always do this for your father. I couldn't very well feed him and not you. It would be rude."

All three men exchanged a look of helplessness. They had planned a full day of surprises designed to spoil their wives, beginning with breakfast. They would simply have to move on to the second on their list.

As they say down to the scrumptious fest before them, they each admitted to themselves that whatever Provenza might have cooked up would never have compared to Maggie's spectacular spread.

They did have the good sense to take care of clean-up, however. While they worked in the kitchen, they sent their ladies away to ready themselves for a day of leisure. As their wives weren't really sure what that was to entail, they simply dressed casually and made themselves comfortable in front of the fire.

The gentlemen had plenty of time before their guests arrived. After seeing to the kitchen, and fixing a sticky note bearing the message No peeking, gals to the bottom drawer in the refrigerator, Andy, Provenza, and William got themselves cleaned up for the day. They had hours to go before preparing for their evening, and wanted to be with their wives before their next surprise arrived.

The great room was peaceful. A fire warmed the space, which was naturally lit by the sun as it streamed through the large, almost floor to ceiling windows. Sharon and Andy shared the sofa, curling together and enjoying their coffee. The lieutenant and his wife sat together on the love seat closer to the fire, and Sharon's parents, Will and Maggie, occupied a pair of marching winged-back chairs opposite them.

Conversation came easily, without awkward silences filled by nervous, unnecessary chatter. They were comfortable enough to talk about many things, or nothing at all. There was a simple contentment in just being.

When a heavy knock sounded on the front door, Andy looked at Provenza, questioning. It was too early, by far. They were to arrive after lunch. It was just after breakfast.

The ladies, however, exchanged suspicious smiles. Sharon looked at her husband and asked, "Honey, could you get that, please?"

"Sure, sure," he replied, getting to his feet and crossing the room to the front door. He opened it, revealing a very tall gentleman, with greying hair and weathered skin.

"Hi there. I'm Jim. Are you Mr. Flynn?" he offered his hand, and Andy accepted it, still confused.

"I am. Andy Flynn. What can I do for you, Jim?"

"Are you fellas ready to go? I'm fueled up and ready."

Andy looked at the man, and then turned to face the others. His wife sat smiling, as did her mother and Patrice. William and Provenza, on the other hand, looked as bewildered as Andy. When he again faced the stranger at the door he asked,

"I'm not sure I understand, Jim. Where are we going?"

The gentleman looked beyond Andy to see a beautiful auburn-haired woman approaching. She reached around her husband and offered hand.

"Come in, Jim. I'm Sharon. We spoke on the phone. You're right on time."

She turned to face her husband and smiled. "Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetheart, and Louie, and you too, Dad. From the three of us."

The men shared a look.

"Jim here is with Weston Lake Excursions. He will be taking you boys on your very own private adventure today," Sharon said.

"You'd better grab your coats, guys. It'll be cold out on the water," Jim said.

The men looked at one another with wide eyes. Cleary, they were not the only ones who'd been planning something for today. But what about their plans for the girls? Andy tried to recover his earlier nonchalance.

"Um, what will you girls do then?"

"Oh, Honey. I'm sure we'll find some way to pass the hours without you boys," Sharon replied. "Why? Did you have plans today?"

He had to tell her something to make sure they'd be home at the appointed time, but without spoiling their surprise.

"Andy? Honey, is everything okay?" She drew him away from the others. He was clearly bothered about something.

"Andy, we thought this would be the perfect gift, something the thee of you would really enjoy doing together, but if.."

"Sharon, it's perfect, really. It's just, I uh,"

"Andy, what is it?" she grasped his hand and squeezed it, awaiting a response.

"Sharon, could you do something for me, please? Without asking any questions? Please?"

"Okay, I guess. Are you okay, Andy?"

"I'm fine. Sensational. Really. Babe, can you, just, be here this afternoon after lunch? Around two? Please?"

Sharon studied her husband. She knew it was important, whether she fully understood or not. She was beginning to, she thought. Biting her lower lip, she gave him a small grin.

"Okay," she said. "Okay, we'll be here this afternoon. Just go and have a marvelous time, Andy."

He sighed heavily with relief.

"I will, and thanks."

"And Honey," she said, laying her hand over his forearm where it was rested across his chest. "Happy Valentine's Day."

He reached for her and gathered her against him, placing the gentlest of kisses to her forehead. "Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetheart. Love you."

The three men gathered coats and hats, preparing to set off on whatever adventure awaited them, courtesy of their wives. They were intrigued, for sure, but discombobulated. They had plans to spend the day at home spoiling their ladies and setting up for the evening's surprise. But like their breakfast plans, these too had been thwarted by their wives, who had plans of their own. They'd made careful, detailed arrangements, and calls and reservations, and were suddenly thrown off their well-strategized game.

"Well then, I guess we're off to, uh, wherever we're off to..." stammered Andy. His fellow adventurers looking equally bewildered at the unexpected turn of events.

Provenza stepped toward Patrice.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather we stayed around the house today? I mean, Patrice, it's Valentine's Day," he said. His wife smiled and took his hands in her own.

"Louie, I know, and this outing is our gift to you boys. A quiet house is your gift to us," she teased.

Not to be outdone, William stepped toward Maggie, who kissed her husband's cheek and told him,

"Get going, Will. Have a good time and take pictures."

He was no fool. He kissed her back and turned to the others.

"You boys heard the boss! Let's get going."

As they hurried out the door after their guide, Sharon's father could be heard asking "You guys know how to take pictures with your phones, right?"

Sharon, her mother, Maggie, and Patrice got to work. They had promised to stay home, but had already planned to anyway. It was Valentine's Day and there was baking to do. They weren't sure what the rest of the day would bring- only that Andy had told them he'd made plans for dinner- but all three of the women enjoyed baking and today was the perfect occasion. They'd bought everything necessary the weekend before, so they dove in. Sharon gathered what she needed from the refrigerator and giggled again at her husband's warning note.

The fishing excursion was a huge hit with the men. They were avid fishermen, but kept mostly to the lake behind the cabin and hadn't yet fished when there was still snow on the ground. To be on a larger vessel, in the middle of shimmering Big Bear Lake, casting into the blue, was a new and exhilarating experience. As promised, many photos were taken, mostly by Andy. Jim got a great shot of his three fishermen, standing tall and proud, with their catch. Tonight's steak dinner would apparently be surf and turf.

Having filled Jim in on their dilemma, he made sure they budgeted their time wisely, so as not to ruin their plans for the evening. They would be home in time to prep and cook, as well as set up the yard.

Cookies were cooling on the counter and an extra special treat was chilling in the fridge, tucked in the back, hidden from view. Just in case, Sharon had attached a sticky note of her own.

Just as the ladies were about to sit down and put their feet up, a soft knock was heard at the front door. Checking her watch, Sharon said, "Ah, two o'clock. Right on time, for whatever."

"I'll admit, my curiosity is piqued," said her mother.

"Mine is too," added Patrice. "With Louie and Andy involved, it could be anything."

"Maybe it's a male stripper, like dressed as a police officer. I've seen that on television," Maggie said.

"Mom! Andy would not send over a stripper. He'd just do it himself," she giggled, embarrassed.

She opened the door to a trio of young women, heavily laden with supplies.

"Can I help you?" Sharon asked with an open, welcoming smile.

"Are you Mrs. Flynn?" The first girl asked.

"I am. And you ladies are?"

"I'm Marcy. This is Karen, and this is Liv and we're All About You!"

"Well, that sounds lovely, but I'm not sure I understand, Marcy."

"We're here to pamper you for Valentine's Day. Mani-pedis, facials, and massages, the works!"

She dug a card from her pocket and read from it. "From Andy, Louie, and Will."

Sharon turned to face her mother and their friend; eyes wide with surprise. She was impressed.

"Well, by all means, come in, girls," said Patrice.

As the three college-aged beauties made their way past Sharon, she simply shrugged. She had no idea where they would manage to deliver all the delights mentioned, but she was certainly looking forward to finding out.

Later in the afternoon, Andy, William, and Provenza made it home. Seeing a van parked out front, they chose to enter the yard through the back gate. Andy set about unloading their catch to be cleaned and prepped. Provenza and William retrieved the needed items from the garage. The day had worn William out, but he had thoroughly enjoyed his time with the boys. He made his way into the guest house to clean up and fetch the flowers that had been stashed there over the weekend.

Andy and his partner set up two brass heat lamps purchased for the wedding of Andy and Sharon's boy, Rick. They placed them on either end of the large picnic table. A pale pink linen cloth was laid across the table, with a starched white liner down the center. Six place settings were spread out around the table, and when Will returned with a vase of flowers, the picture was complete. Andy and Provenza then took turns showering and dressing in the guest house, all of them having moved their clothes and dop kits over the day before. When they were all dressed and ready to proceed, Andy took to the grill, William folded napkins, his one and only craft, and Provenza sent an agreed-upon text to his wife.

Ladies, we hope you enjoyed your day as much as we did. Put on your best dress and be ready in an hour. Await further instructions. Us.

He then sent a second text to Marcy, signaling her as well, and then got back to work.

Patrice received her husband's text and shared it with the others. The three of them shrugged and, thanking the trio, retired to their own rooms to dress for dinner.

Once they disappeared from the room, the other three took care of their final request of the evening, then left, tired but very well paid.

At the appointed time, the doorbell rang. Sharon was the first to emerge, followed quickly by her mother and Patrice. All three were dressed to impress.

They all converged on the front door, eager to see what other surprises awaited them.

Sharon opened the door to find three handsome, well-dressed gentlemen, flowers in hand.

A bright smile spread across Sharon's face, reaching all the way to her eyes. There may have been others present, but she only had eyes for her husband.

"Well, hello there," she said, obviously touched at the gesture. "Don't you look handsome." Remembering the others, "and you both as well."

Andy extended his hand in offering. When his wife accepted it, he lifted hers to place a gentle kiss there. All dressed up and bearing flowers, it might have seemed like an act, but his eyes told another story.

"You all look lovely," he said, but seemed to address only her.

They stepped inside, like guests in their own home. They were dressed up, all three of them, sweet and sharp. They offered their wives the flowers.

"Should we get our coats? Are we going out?" Sharon asked, making her way toward the kitchen to grab a few vases.

"Uh, yes. That would be wise. It's chilly out," her lieutenant said, heading to the hall closet. There he pulled out their three heavy dress coats and handed them off to Andy and Will.

Once they'd helped their dates into their coats, the ladies stepped toward the front door.

"Uh, let's go this way," Andy suggested, gesturing toward the rear of the house. Confused, but no concerned, they followed.

William opened the back door with a flourish, revealing the lawn, illuminated by twinkling lights in the surrounding trees and soft light at each end of the beautifully decorated table. Music played from a discreetly hidden iPod, filling the night with the mellow sounds of jazz.

"Oh,my..." Sharon murmured, as she leaned against her husband. "You've done it again, Andy."

Patrice held tight to her husband's hand and whispered in his ear. "It's so romantic, Louie."

He simply squeezed her fingers and led her across the lawn.

Sharon's parents remained on the back porch, sharing a soft exchange. She was so grateful for the extra time they'd had together over the last several weeks. They'd had so little of that over the previous several years.

Andy moved up close behind her, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her back against him. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he said, "It's remarkable, isn't it? They've been together for nearly seventy years, a lifetime. When we visited them in Redding, they sat and read, worked puzzles, watched TV. Here, they've planted an herb garden, gone fishing, been on sleigh rides. They're aging backwards. Unbelievable. He spent hours on the water. He'd fish a little, then rest and watch. We were careful not to let him overdo it."

"They've always been so good together. Never mattered what it was. Their jobs, raising me, vacations. They've always gotten along. Such good friends."

"You're my best friend, you know? I feel like a better person when I'm with you. You've always made me want to try harder."

She took her eyes off of her parents and turned in the circle of his arms.

"You, Andy Flynn, are the very best man I know. You're so like my father, and he's pretty amazing."

As he closed the small gap between them with a kiss, her father carefully guided her mother down the steps and across the lawn. As he pulled her chair out for her, she could be heard saying, "Oh Will, you old romantic."

Dinner was delightful. They feasted on steak and trout, their catch of the day. With the finely laid table, flowers, and wine for those so inclined, it was as elegant as any restaurant.

There was lively conversation and laughter, with tales of less successful Valentine's celebrations. When they had sufficiently stuffed themselves with supper, Sharon and Patrice excused themselves. When they returned with coffee and dessert, it was obvious they had spent their morning in the kitchen.

After dessert, they danced on the lawn, a little Nat "King" Cole to make their night Unforgettable.

"You really do look lovely tonight," Andy said as they danced. She wore a dress of crimson cashmere, which wrapped around her and tied at the waist. At her neck and ears she wore the Claddagh set he'd given her early in their marriage. Tall black boots shielded her legs from the cold. He found her stunning.

"Thank you. You look awfully sharp for someone who spent his day fishing. And you don't smell like it at all," she giggled. "Not to mention the pampering we received, and thank you, by the way. How ever did you manage it all after we inadvertently threw a monkey wrench in your plans?" Still teasing, she toyed with the silver hair at the back of his neck, eyeing him flirtatiously as she did. "Really. How did you do it all? It's wonderful, Andy."

"I'll tell you everything later, babe, I promise. Right now, I just want to get all this cleaned up so I can take you to bed and pamper you some more."

She leaned in closer still, her lips touching his and said, "Then what are we waiting for?"

They made quick work of the dishes. Having decided the rest could wat until tomorrow, they said their goodnights to the others, who were just as eager to get to bed. They made their way to their room and finished their day in much the same way it had begun.

They moved together as they slowly divested one another of their clothes. When they moved to the shower, the dance continued, question hands and lips, touching and tasting.

Sharon wrapped her arms around him, stilling him against her. Their chests rose and fell together, they paused, as they almost always did in these moments together, to remember that there was so much more than sex or romance between them. Even powered by the heat of the moment, they took a moment to acknowledge the deeper connection binding them together, the abiding faithfulness and love.

Sharon kissed her way up from his shoulders to his face, to his lips again. Speaking against them, she panted, "bed," and they danced on.

February turned into March and although spring had arrived on time in Los Angeles, it hadn't yet made it to Big Bear Lake. The snow persisted. It was enough to keep things looking magical, a good dusting each day.

The grandchildren would be descending on them by the end of the week, excited to play in the remaining snow. Their grandparents would be happy to indulge them. The boys were growing fast, and all too soon may prefer to spend their spring break with friends on the warm sand of the beach. It had also been several weeks since they'd seen their new granddaughter, little three-month-old Sharon Rose.

Sharon had readied the suite of rooms at the back of the house for the children and their parents. Andy had set up a crib for the baby in her parents' room. Draped across the end, a quilt created by Maggie. Made of soft fabric pieced together from each of their family members and carefully arranged into the shape of a rose, it was sewn onto the softest polished cotton, the color of sage, and backed with pale pink Minky fleece, as soft as a cloud. Matching seat and back cushions had also been fashioned and placed in the rocking chair nestled into the corner. It was warm and welcoming.

With the house readied, they would now need to see about stocking the fridge. There was plenty of fish in the deep freeze, left over from the boys' big fishing excursion, and the staples that always stood ready in the cupboard. There were a number of items they would need to pick up from the market, however, and a few things they wanted to pick up for the grandkids.

So, Sharon and Andy, Patrice and Provenza, set out toward the village, leaving Maggie to her baking and Will to help.

March in Big Bear meant visitors. With the many universities in the surrounding areas on staggered spring breaks, the village saw a huge influx of young people eager to take advantage of the last opportunity to ski. Cabin rentals were high as was traffic in town. Although the residents preferred the tranquility of their town in the rare occasions it was actually quiet, there really wasn't an off season for an area famous for its year-round beauty.

After circling the block a few times, Andy pulled into a spot along the sidewalk, just vacated by a car pulling out. He eased into the spot and turned to this wife. They divided up their tasks, the ladies to the market, the men to the bookstore for the boys, and the hardware store for, well, they wouldn't know what they needed until they got there. They would meet up an hour later at the shop across the square. It was known for its excellent selection of wines and imported beer, as well as a specific line of teas Sharon enjoyed. They would pick up a few things to share with their guests over the coming week.

They parted ways and got to it. While Andy and Provenza had no problem mindlessly perusing for tools and grills, they had no interest in browsing at the grocery store. When at the market, they got in and got out. Their wives very much enjoyed taking their time. Raising children while working full time had meant fast and furious dashes through the store on the way home. Now that they had the time, they both enjoyed examining produce, custom cuts of meat, and choosing quality over speed. They were both nurturers at heart, and this was how they chose to nurture their family, with healthy food lovingly prepared, feeding both body and spirit.

Gathering their bags, they made their way back to the car, a large SUV, and deposited their groceries in the back. They carefully stepped across the street, slick and crunchy with melting snow, and headed toward the specialty store. Andy saw them through the window of the hardware store and reluctantly decided to wrap it up, drop their selections for the boys by the car and meet the ladies.

Sharon and Patrice stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the shop, and stomped the watery snow from their boots before entering. Removing their heavy coats, they reveled in the toasty warmth of the store. There were exposed beams and sand-colored walls with soft lighting from floors and corners. It gave it an old school study look, with bookshelves and club chairs for enjoying a coffee. They loved the shop precisely because they felt welcome to browse, sit and take their time.

Sharon made her way to the rear of the store, where decorative tins of assorted teas sat displayed behind a large cherrywood wine rack filled with ornately labeled bottles. Patrice went in search of her husband's favorite beer.

Suddenly, there was a commotion in the front half of the shop. What on Earth? Sharon thought to herself. Peering through the wine display, she saw a trio of young men harassing the shop keeper and a few customers standing nearby. A second set up of bottles was thrown on its side when a bystander was tossed aside, costly champagne creating a slippery foam across the floor. Sharon ducked behind the large wine rack, eyes scanning the scene, searching for Patrice.

The young men were loud and angry, perhaps intoxicated already and looking for more. Maybe just the cash in the register. It wasn't important. What was more urgent now, was their growing violence. They weren't satisfied with merely a grab and go. At least one was getting ugly with the clientele.

When that one entered the beer cooler, her chest tightened with alarm. Patrice. There weren't many times since she'd retired that she regretted the decision. Right now, however, she was definitely missing her weapon. Her ability to quickly diffuse the situation was greatly hampered without it. She looked around for anything with which she could protect her friend and herself, if necessary. Underneath the crumpled display were several large shards of thick green glass, jagged and deadly. She carefully picked up a large piece from the bottom of a bottle and cupped the rounded end in her hand.

Just then, the third man exited the cooler, with Patrice in his grasp. In his other hand, he held a gun. Neither noticed Sharon's hidden position and she kept it that way. It was her only advantage.

"I hear sirens!" the first man yelled. He turned to the shopkeeper and shouted, "You trip a silent alarm, old man?"

The second finished grabbing fistfuls of cash from the till and ran for the door, the first man right behind him. There were police approaching from the street.

"What now?" one asked the other.

The third man stepped forward, gun in one hand and Patrice held close to him with the other.

"Now, we get outa here. They won't touch us if I'm holding her!" He waved his gun toward the door, laughing maniacally, obviously on some substance or another.

When he raised the gun in the air, a show of his perceived power, Sharon jumped at the chance. Springing from her hiding place, she swung her arm with all her might at the arm holding the gun. The thick, heavy glass sliced into his forearm and he howled in anger. In his inebriated state, he seemed to not even register the pain.

Sharon shoved Patrice behind the club chair in the corner, while the others dove for cover. The young man spun toward Sharon and fired haphazardly in her direction. She fell behind the display as the officers entered the building. Patrice crawled across the floor and bent low to check her friend. The young man raised his gun to fire again, this time at the police in the doorway. Before he could, however, one of them took aim and shot. The young man was hit in the shoulder, propelling him backward into the display case. He and the shelf of wine bottles, toppled backward, landing on top of the ladies behind it.

As the three young men were rounded up and cuffed, Andy and Provenza ran into the shop, drawn by the commotion and gunfire.

"What the hell? Sharon!"

"Patrice, are you in here?" Provenza shouted.

The others in the shop were gathered together in one area while the threesome was removed and taken away. Andy and Provenza moved around the shop, shoes crunching on broken glass, and scanning the room for their wives. The shop's owner quickly crossed the room saying, "Help me get this up!"

The large shelving unit was moving slightly, as if on its own and a muffled voice could be heard from underneath. "Help! Somebody get this off!"

Patrice. They were at once relieved and alarmed. What in the world had happened here?

Provenza, Andy, and the store's owner positioned themselves around the large piece and lifted, setting it aside and giving them their first look at the heap below. Their wives were tangled together, a bloody mess of cuts and scrapes, covered in a fine sheen of red wine. Hair was fused to their faces, sticky from the spill. Patrice was relieved that the weight pinning her down, but now she was angry.

"Get me up! Where's the ass with the gun?"

Her husband reached for her, but she only rolled to her knees to examine Sharon.

Andy immediately dropped beside his wife, who laid motionless on the floor.

"Sharon! Sweetheart, wake up. Patrice, what's wrong? What happened?"

Patrice checked her over, quickly but gingerly, like assessing a patient. She pushed Sharon's damp hair aside and looked for injuries. There was a laceration to the side of her head, likely from the glass. When she carefully ran her fingers around the back of Sharon's head, she felt a large knot. They had hit the floor hard.

"Call an ambulance," she said calmly, but firmly, as she unbuttoned the topmost buttons of Sharon's corduroy shirt. The red at the shoulder didn't match the red of the wine. It was dark, thick, and warm. She unbuttoned the rest and opened the shirt to reveal the soft cotton chemise underneath. Sure enough, there was a bullet hole. Reaching around, she also found an exit wound.

"Through and through," she said. "Let's get this bleeding stopped."

The shopkeeper grabbed a handful of cloth napkins from the nearby coffee table and handed them to Patrice, before moving back toward the door to watch for the ambulance.

Andy moved toward his wife's head, lifted it carefully, and positioned himself beneath her. He tucked a napkin tightly into the large exit wound and held it there with one hand. With his other, he combed his fingers through her hair, sticky with liquor.

"Shh, baby. Hang in there for me. Can you do that? Just hang in there."

Patrice grasped her husband's hand.

"Louie, can you hold this against the entry wound? I want to check the others. At least one of them got pushed around pretty hard."

He moved into position and put pressure on Sharon's wound.

Sharon's eyes flew open in a panic. "Andy?" Her mind was racing but her speech was slow. "Andy, Patrice?"

"Sweetheart. There you are. Patrice is okay and you're going to be okay too. Just lie still. You took one to the shoulder and you've hit your head pretty hard, babe. Paramedics are on the way."

"Patrice," she repeated, clearly in shock. "Patrice. He had a gun on Patrice."

Provenza went white. He continued to push down on his captain's shoulder, but his eyes searched for his wife.

The paramedics arrived and loaded Sharon and Andy into the ambulance. Provenza would follow with his own wife once she had given her statement to the officers on the scene. She had a number of cuts and other injuries to be see to as well.

The community medical center was small, but well appointed. While their usual patient load included ski injuries and the occasional auto-accident, they had a fully functioning emergency department and surgical unit. Anything beyond the capabilities could be sent to nearby San Bernardino.

The ambulance pulled into the bay and hospital staff arrived to whisk Sharon away. Andy followed as far as he was allowed. He knew the drill. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he checked for word on Patrice before composing a text to inform, but hopefully not alarm their children. He sent it to the group, Flying Monkeys, created in their phones by Ricky, and sent it. He then called his in-laws to fill them in on what had happened to their daughter and to reassure them as well. Then he settled in to wait.

No more than half an hour later, Provenza and Patrice arrived in the emergency room. After registering to be seen, Patrice joined her husband and their friend to wait for news on Sharon.

"Patrice Provenza?"

The threesome turned; expectant looks on their faces.

"That's me."

The young nurse approached, wearing a comforting smile.

"He there. I'm Karen. A sergeant from the Sheriff's department called and gave us a heads up. Said you'd be coming in for an assessment after giving your statement regarding the incident in the village. He also mentioned you'd been quite a help to the others. You're a nurse?"

"Yes, uh, retired. Uh, do you have any word on Sharon Flynn? She was brought in earlier. Through and through to the shoulder, possible concussion."

"I don't, but I can take you back, see what I can find out, and come back and let you all know."

They nodded, frustrated, but accepting.

Patrice followed the young woman through the double doors leading to the exam area.

Only about fifteen minutes later, the nurse was back with a second.

"Mr. Flynn, this is Ben. He did your wife's intake exam. He can tell you more than I. Mr. Provenza, I'll see to your wife and be with you shortly."

She disappeared back through the double doors, and Ben took a seat opposite the two men.

"Mr. Flynn, I did you wife's initial exam. There is some minor damage to the shoulder, which is being repaired by our surgical team, along with a shoulder specialist. She also has a pretty significant concussion. She was scanned and there is no bleeding or other complication. So, we'll watch her closely for that. The bullet was a through and through, so once we get her shoulder in better shape, we'll close her up and get her a room for the night. She'll need to stay so we can watch how she responds to the anesthetic and to monitor the head injury. I think she'll do well, but she'll feel rather rough.

Andy exhaled loudly, the air rattling out of his lungs. "Okay."

Provenza laid his hand on his friend's arm. "Patrice told me Sharon saved her life, and others' potentially. One of them was losing it. He was perfectly willing to go down shooting and take everyone with him."

"It's what she's always done," he grumbled. "Putting herself at risk.."

"For others, Flynn, and it's also what you've always done. You're perfectly matched. Hard-headed, the both of you. As soon as Patrice is free, we'll head home. I'll bring back a change of clothes for you both."

Andy felt his phone vibrate in his hand. On the screen there was a text on the family group page. OMG. Is she okay? Rusty. He was interning at the DA's office this spring while finishing law school and preparing to sit for the bar exam. I can be there in a few hours, came the second message.

Andy sighed. As much as they would both love to have the whole family around, their children were grown and had lives of their own.

She'll be fine. Doc's patching up her shoulder. Little concussion. She'll have a headache. Would love to see you, but no need to drop everything. A.

Then the phone rang, Emily via facetime.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said, upon answering, trying to keep his voice light.

"Andy, how's Mom?" she asked, getting right to the point. "We can be there tonight."

"I know, baby. I know. The doc is patching her up right now. She's gonna be sore, but she'll be okay, thank God. They're keeping her overnight, as a precaution, but we'll go home tomorrow. There's no reason to rush out or change any plans."

"Andy, she got shot. She's retired now and she still got shot." There it was, the fear. He knew it, was feeling it.
"Sweetheart, it's what she does, retired or not. Some guy was threatening innocent people. You know what, come home if it makes you feel better. See her for yourself. You know we'd love to have you. Just don't feel like you have to. Completely up to you, baby."

"It's just so scary. You guys shouldn't be dealing with this kind of stuff anymore."

"Yeah, well, drunks shouldn't be robbing liquor stores and terrorizing people either. I'm just relieved she wasn't hurt worse and Patrice is okay."

"Oh, gosh. Patrice! She wasn't hurt too, was she? I don't even know what all happened. I'm just so sorry it did."

Andy spied Ben the nurse, coming toward him. "Emily, your mom's nurse is here. You want to listen in?"

"Yes, of course," she said, relieved.

"Mr. Flynn, good news," said the nurse.

"Good, good. Listen, our girl is on the line. Can you fill us in together?"

"Sure, no problem," he said toward the phone. "Mrs. Flynn is out of surgery. The doctor is very pleased with how it went. The internal damage wasn't too extensive. She'll need some physical therapy in time. The nurse also stitched up a couple of lacerations sustained when your wife fell. I'm told there was an awful lot of glass. They'll be moving her to a room in a little while, after spending a little time in recovery. We'll want to watch for any signs the anesthesia will upset her stomach and such. I can take you back though, for a bit. If you like?"

"Thank you," Emily said, relieved. "Go see Mom, Andy. Tell her I love her and call me later, okay?"

"I will, baby. Love you, Em."

"Love you, too, Pop."

Andy ended the call, pocketed the phone and followed the nurse. Looking over his shoulder, he waved to his partner, adding, "Text me about Patrice."

Provenza simply waved in response. Those two, he thought. They really were a pair.

Andy was led through a few short halls into the recovery bay. Much smaller than the massive hospital complexes of Los Angeles, this one was certainly simpler to navigate.

Sharon rested in the far corner, near the nurse's station. There were only two others in the unit, both scheduled procedures, not emergencies.

Andy perched himself on the chair beside her bed and stretched out his arm to take her hand loosely in his own. Lifting to his lips, he placed a soft kiss there, the pressed it against his cheek while he watched her sleep. While she slept, blissfully unaware of the pain that would come upon waking, he closed his eyes and prayed.

Some time later, she opened her eyes and, seeing him there, gave the slightest of smiles and a weak squeeze to his hand, then slept on.

When she finally awoke for more than a second, she was in a regular room, her husband still by her side.

"Hey," she mumbled in a graveled voice.

Andy looked up from his phone, having just updated the kids.

"Hey yourself, beautiful. How do you feel, sweetheart? Can I get you anything?"

He moved to sit beside her on the bed, on her good side.

She reached for his hand and took a careful breath.

"How is Patrice? Anyone else hurt? Andy, my mom and dad. The kids."

"Sh, slow down, sweetheart. One thing at a time. Everyone is okay. Patrice is fine. No one else was badly injured. A lot of cuts from the glass and stuff. I've spoken to your parents. They send their love and will see you tomorrow. I've talked to the kids, too. Calm down, baby. You'll be fine." He could see the panic, the confusion. He leaned over her, ever so gently, and pressed his cheek to hers. "You're okay, I promise," he whispered.

She nodded silently. That hurt. When he sat up again, she reached around and felt the back of her head.

"You have a pretty nasty concussion too, and some stitches. You were both pretty cut up from the glass everywhere. You'll both be fine. The shop's a mess, though. Poor shopkeeper's got quite the clean up on his hands."

"I'm afraid I can't do anything to help, not like this."

"Don't you worry about that, babe."

Her eyes began to grow heavy and droop again. Andy gently threaded his fingers through her hair, still a sticky mess, until she drifted off.

Late the following afternoon, they finally arrived home. After the doctor stopped by with post-operative instructions for meds and wound care, they still had to wait for the in-house pharmacy to prepare her prescriptions. By the time they finally arrived at the cabin, they were both exhausted. The meds administered to help her to make the trip home were strong. Sharon felt heavy and sluggish. She longed for the bed, but couldn't imagine it without cleaning up first. She felt dirty and sticky and foul.

The front door opened just as Sharon and Andy made it to the steps. So unfocused was she that her children's presence didn't even register.

Ricky moved to her other side and supported her elbow. "Hey Mom. How're you feeling?" His voice caught her attention.

"Ricky? What are you... never mind. I'm so glad you're here."

"Mom gets shot saving the universe, her children fly to her side."

"Universe? Ricky really. Wait. Children?"

"Hi, Mom!" cried Emily and Rusty.

"Oh, my goodness. You all didn't have to dash all the way out here."

They chattered as they made their way inside. While the sofa looked so inviting, Sharon wouldn't dare sit on it. She felt filthy. Instead, she headed toward the kitchen table. When she spotted her parents, the tears came.

The shower felt sublime. It was just what she needed, what they needed. Skin glue protected her incisions, but Andy covered them anyway, just to be sure.

Sharn faced the wall, leaning forward and bracing herself with her uninjured arm. The other she cradled close to her body. Andy stood behind her, washing her hair and body of the sticky layer of wine that clung to her skin. When he felt her begin to tremble, he wrapped both arms protectively around her middle and pulled her back against him to bear her slight weight. She rested her head heavily atop his shoulder, her face turned into his neck, and breathed.

She was beyond exhausted. Her pain meds were onboard and they added to the heaviness. As much as she longed to curl up against the pillows of her bed, she first needed to be with her family. She needed to reassure her parents and her children, and talk with Patrice.

Andy helped her into the most comfortable clothes he could fine, soft lounge pants and a soft, long-sleeved button-down pajama shirt. Settling her in the corner of the sofa, he covered her with a heavy quilt. Patrice sat next to her and shared the blanket. She looked at her friend and the two instantly joined hands and teared up. They'd been through frightening episodes together, but they always involved their husbands. This was the first time they'd been under fire, literally, the two of them.

"Thank you, Sharon. Thank you."

Sharon squeezed her friend's hand and smiled sadly through her tears.

"Oh, Patrice. I can't believe this happened. Are you sure you're okay?" She studied two areas of her arm that were bandaged in white.

"I'm fine. It's just stitches. Falling in a pile of broken glass hurts, doesn't it? Who knew?" she joked.

"It really does," Sharon laughed through her tears.

Patrice reached around to touch Sharon's injured arm. "How's your shoulder? I can't believe you got shot, Sharon."

"Better me than you," she said firmly. "It hurts," she said honestly. "Throbs. The meds are helping some. It'll be fine before long. I feel awful for the shop owner. So much damage. He tried so hard to stay calm and not let things escalate. I wish we could do something for him."

Just then, Andy and Provenza appeared, the latter with a tray. He set it down and lifted two cups of tea for the ladies huddled together on the sofa. He handed the first to this wife before kissing her on the head. The second, he handed to Sharon, before kneeling before her and telling her "Thank you, Sharon. Thank you." He leaned close and pressed a kiss to her cheek before taking a seat in the arm chair nearby.

Andy perched himself on the arm of the sofa and ran his fingers through her hair. When she closed her eyes and hummed, he smiled.

Sharon's parents sat on the loveseat near the hearth. They had long accepted the dangerous nature of their daughter's chosen profession. They knew they could receive word of an injury just as surely as they could find her on the nightly news during a high-profile investigation. Those days were behind them, however. She was retired and living a quiet life outside of the city. She was supposed to be safe now. Life in a quiet town didn't preclude bad luck or bad guys though. It didn't mean no car accidents, drunk drivers, or robberies. Those things still happened.

"Sharon, is there anything else you need to make you comfortable? Do you need your medication or another pillow?" Maggie asked her.

"Thank you, Mom, but I'm fine for now. Are you two alright? I'm sorry to have frightened you both."

"It's not your fault, Peanut. As long as you're okay, we're okay. Turns out, you're a hero, darlin'."

"No, Dad. I'm not. I did nothing heroic. I was just angry. How dare they come here and frighten people and try to take what doesn't belong to them? They were going to hurt Patrice, and others too. It made me mad."

"You should see her with a bean bag gun," her husband said. "Hot."

"Andy," she playfully chastised him. "Not in front of my dad."

"Actually, I'd give anything to have seen that," William said, to the delight of the others.

"I'll show you the dashcam footage," Andy told him.

"Um, where are the kids?" Sharon asked, changing the subject. "They seem to have disappeared."

"They slipped out for a while so you could shower and get settled. They'll be back in time for dinner," her husband replied.

"Guaranteed. That bunch will never miss their grandmother's cooking," William added, patting his wife's knee.

"I sure wouldn't. Smells delicious," Provenza mumbled.

"You have time to lay down and rest before we eat, if you like," Maggie told both women. "We can wake you when it's time."

"Actually, that sound like a wonderful idea," said a weary Sharon. "Join me?" she asked her husband over her shoulder.

He stood and moved to stand before her, offering his hand. "My pleasure."

More than two blissful hours later, they were awakened from slumber by the voices of their children. They were back and could be heard in the kitchen. They got up, moving slowly and stiffly, first to the bathroom and then to the table.

"There you are, Mom. How do you feel?" Emily asked as she moved to carefully embrace her mother.

"Hi baby. I'll be fine. Don't fuss over me, please."

"Sharon, I'm so sorry this happened, as if you haven't been through enough already," said her daughter in law.

"Holly, it's so good to see you, sweetheart. How are you? Your Dad and Anne are well, yes? I spoke to her just last weekend."

"They're great. Finding their way after being on their own for so long. They're really pretty adorable together. They kind of remind me of you and Andy." Placing a gentle hand to the small of her back, she guided her toward the table. "Have a seat and I'll grab your meds."

"Thank you, honey." She took her usual spot to the right of the head of the table. After years of sitting in the seat of honor, she had eventually offered it to her husband as a sign of respect. It wasn't necessary, but he cherished it, not having received much over the years.

Andy served her a large glass of iced tea and offered to help fix her plate. An independent sort, there was a time when she wouldn't have appreciated the offer, assuming it was made with something to gain-as it was when it came from her first husband. So, Andy always asked. Now, she understood where it came from, and honored that. When she nodded, he took her plate and loaded it up with a fresh green salad full of chunky vegetables, and a fistful of crusty garlicky bread. He then ladled a thick, hearty vegetarian chili prepared by his mother-in-law.

Holly quietly set Sharon's medicine next to her plate on the table, then quietly took her own seat next to Rick. She was modest and unobtrusive, a doer, true to her calling as a nurse. Ricky had made a fine choice.

Dinner was, as usual, a spirited affair. The kids caught their parents and grandparents up on their busy lives. They were happy, healthy, productive young people. They talked a mile and minute, enthusiastic and loud.

It was Maggie who noticed her daughter's strength was flagging. Looking across the table at Patrice, she found her in much the same shape. Leaning in close to her son in law, she whispered, "Why don't you and Louie take the girls out back and enjoy the quiet for a bit. They're looking rather wiped out. I'll take coffee and dessert out to you, and keep the kids occupied for a while."

Andy winked at Maggie and followed her advice.

The night air was cold and there was snow blanketing the ground. Crisp and fresh, it was invigorating and cleared the head. If Sharon stayed out in it too long, she would start to shiver, and that wouldn't feel so good to her battered body. For now, though, it felt restorative.

The foursome sat together, enjoying their coffee, and the solitude of the night. There was something magical about the snowfall. It was silent and insulating. While inside her head, thoughts and emotions swirled, the air around them seemed paused. They sat, curled together, and took it in, and began the long process of healing.

Friday brought to them rejuvenation in another form, grandchildren. Nicole, her husband Jeff, and their family-Sam, Seth, and baby Sharon Rose, arrived full of energy and concern.

Saturday morning, the young folks, minus Nicole, disappeared again. This time their mission was no secret. The day before, they had driven into the village to visit the proprietor of the store where the bungled robbery had taken place. As he was quite alone, they offered their assistance in cleaning up and putting his business back in order. So today, Rick and Holly, Emily, Rusty, Jeff and Drew had piled into the large SUV and made their way back into town.

The others stayed home to enjoy the little ones. Andy and Louie helped the boys to build a blanket fort in the living room, while the ladies enjoyed their sweet baby girl. Nicole was very keen to spend time with her step-mother, still panicked over the news of her shooting.

For her part, Sharon was dealing with the pain in her shoulder. She tried to be diligent about staying on top of her medications, even if they left her feeling foggy. It was better than being in too much pain to enjoy her family.

They stayed the week, eating, laughing, enjoying movies by the fire, before heading back home. They had work, school, relationships. Life. The way it was supposed to be.

The cabin was quiet once again. Healing continued, stitches were eventually removed, and a month after the shooting, Sharon began rehabilitation of her shoulder. They were getting stronger every day, all of them. The blessing of living these days together made them stronger than ever.

Sunshine warmed the ground. The earth had finally begun its annual thaw. Milder temperatures meant longer hours to spend outdoors. Healing bodies meant the energy to enjoy it. They cooked out regularly, enjoying picnics at the table under the shade trees.

Easter arrived with its new buds and new possibilities. It always seemed to offer a do-over, a Mulligan. The chance to reboot the system. They celebrated the holiday together, attending church and enjoying a fitting feast afterward. As it was only the weekend, their children stayed in L.A., but did attend St. Joe's and have lunch together at Nicole's.

The days and weeks rolled along, growing longer and warmer. May was soon upon them and the extended family would be gathering for a combination Mother's Day and birthday celebration for Sharon. As their family grew, in size and age, more activities were added, workloads increased. Joint celebrations helped with schedules. No one wanted to miss family gatherings at the cabin, which surprised and delighted their parents.

They came together, growing and changing, as different as they were the same. The grandsons were taller, the baby was learning to laugh. Mark and Anne looked happy and settling into married life. Andy and Sharon's combined brood was thriving. They thoroughly enjoyed their time together, Maggie and William at the center of it all, seeming younger and more vital than ever.

The ladies received the royal treatment for Mother's Day, with dinner and gifts and games on the lawn. The kids, young and not so young, lavished the ladies with attention. Holly was very attentive to both her mother-in-law, who she positively adored, and her new step-mother, who she grew to love more each day.

Sharon had often said that all she wished for to make her birthday or Mother's Day complete, was to be surrounded by her large and loving family. She got her wish. Her grandsons even invited her to a camp in on the living room floor. Even with her body still healing, she could hardly deny their request. So, her husband inflated a large air mattress, fully outfitted with pillows and blankets, and joined them on the floor.

By the time the weekend came to a close, they were all exhausted, but richer for time spent together.

Summertime, the season most anticipated by school children, campers, hikers, and of course, teachers. For Sharon and Andy, it meant a crowded cabin, filled to overflowing with laughter and love. Their friends and family would be descending in droves to celebrate the fourth of July, as well as Father's Day in style. With a cookout on the lawn and fireworks over the lake, it would be quite the party.

For once, everyone was healthy and strong. A competitive bunch by nature, games on the lawn were guaranteed.

Julio would be joining them, having promised the boys a campout in the treehouse. He would only stay the weekend, needing to return to work on Monday. Plus, he was seeing someone, and being rather secretive about it. Perhaps that meant something.

They kicked off the weekend on Friday night, with hamburgers on the grill and a visit down by the lake. They made quite a picture. With chairs pulled close to the water's edge, they enjoyed ice cold lemonade, beer for those so inclined, and lively conversation while the boys played on the lawn. Sharon and Andy rested on a large blanket, Sharon Rose between them. At six months, she was much more active and currently showing a keen interest in her toes.

Patrice and Anne sat nearby, the latter eyeing the baby wistfully. Their husbands sat beside them, discussing plans to fish in the morning.

The younger folks had huddled up together on the porch of the guest house, contemplating a late swim in the crystal water. The oldest two, Will and Maggie, sat on the porch swing, enjoying the cool breeze and watching over them all. To see their daughter surrounded by such a family, the family she'd long yearned for, filled them with such contentment. That they truly wanted to share this season of their life with her parents gave them such joy. It completed their story.

Sharon Rose had her grandparents and their friends under her spell. She gurgled and cooed and they grinned from ear to ear, reducing grown men to babbling fools.

Sharon studied her friend, who gazed at the baby girl, probably imagining what might have been.

"Would you like to hold her, Anne?" she asked. It could go either way. It could be too much. It could be beautiful. When Anne took a deep breath and gave a tentative nod, Sharon smiled.

Anne knelt on the blanket and reached up to lay her palm against the baby's back. With great effort, Sharon Rose flipped herself over and stared at Anne. When she reached for her, Anne slowly scooped her up and held her close. She inhaled her sweet baby scent and smiled. At her sweetness, at the memories.

Her husband dropped to one knee behind her and laid one hand on her shoulder. He kissed the side of her head and reached around her to stroke the baby's head.

Yes. It was beautiful.

The Fourth was a success. There was swimming in the lake, volleyball on the lawn, burgers and beer. As the sun set, there were fireworks over the water. They celebrated the dads among them as well. It was a true celebration, Flynn-family style.

Julio left the following morning. He had work, and a date. They only teased him a little. Rusty had to return to the city by the end of the week, as did Rick, Holly, and Drew. Emily had the time off, but was getting anxious to get back to her boyfriend who'd been unable to get away. She mentioned perhaps leaving early to spend the weekend in San Bernardino.

Anne and Mark had accepted an invitation to extend their stay a week. They could work from anywhere now, but had been volunteering at a teen shelter and had plans there in a couple of weeks. Nicole and Jeff and their family would take their two-week vacation there as well.

They would have plenty of family to fill their home over the summer, plenty of love.

Summer made the turn to fall, Andy's favorite time of year. As a child, he loved it because of his birthday. He always got to visit with his grandparents, on both sides. As a man, and not a young one, he simply enjoyed the changes. The leaves colored, then fell, and the air began to cool. Ironically, the season that most symbolized the passing of time, seemed to leave him feeling most invigorated.

His birthday was marked with a dinner with his closest friends. Having only just spent the lion's share of the summer at the cabin, the kids stayed home, already hip-deep in work and school. They'd be returning the next month for William's ninetieth birthday as well. Mark and Anne drove out for the weekend to help them celebrate.

Four couples, different ages, backgrounds, and experiences, joined together by the welcome and hospitality offered them. Some had travelled similar paths, some only on the periphery. They had all loved and lost, then loved again. They loved this oddly constructed family.

After an evening of dinner and dessert, a few heartfelt gifts and calls from each of the kids, the group retired for the night. They planned a day in the village, shopping at the local markets, and mass on Sunday to round out the weekend.

Andy locked up the house, set the alarms and checked on their guests. His nightly routine complete, he padded into the bedroom and turned down the bed. Hearing water and feeling the humidity, he knew his wife was in the shower. Seeing her robe laid across the foot of the bed, he grabbed it and took it to the bathroom, hanging it on the door.

"Babe, you want me to close the door so you don't catch a chill?"

"Yes, thank you," she fairly husked.

"'kay. Can I get you anything else?"

The curtain slid open just enough for her to peak through.

"Andy."

He turned and smile. "Yeah?"

"Get in here."

A grin spread across his face as he quickly shed his clothes. Stepping into the shower, his hands instantly found her. He gave her a searing kiss that left her breathless. In a husky voice she panted,

"Happy birthday, Andy."

Rising with the sun, they enjoyed a breakfast feast prepared by the ladies before heading down into the village. The air was crisp and the trees colorful. The square was lined with makeshift stalls showcasing the wares of area artisans, everything from crafts, to quilts, to preserves. Andy admired a carpentry display. He'd considered contributing some of his own handiwork, figuring he could bring in a modest sum the church could put to use.

Sharon carried a large bundle of flowers she would take home to her parents. They loved the autumn temperatures and enjoyed a good artisan fair, but the walking around town all day was really too much for them now. They had plans to enjoy the back porch swing. They were healthy and doing well, but knew their limits.

Shifting the bouquet to her other arm, she threaded her hand through the crook of Andy's arm and snuggled close. He reached over and covered her hand with his own, smiling down at her. Just ahead of them were Provenza and Patrice, his arms draped loosely about her shoulders, and Mark and Anne, who walked hand in hand, still wearing their newlywed glow. They lazily made their way from one stall to the next before making their way to their favorite import shop. They'd not been back since the robbery which left them both injured and fearful.

Crossing the threshold, they took a deep breath to steady themselves and scanned the store for the owner. He was found unboxing a crate of new bottles from France. He looked up on hearing their quiet exchange, and smiled.

"Ah, my favorite customers," exclaimed Mr. Russell, owner and meticulous shopkeeper. "I was hoping you all would stop by. I've something for you." He held up a hand to excuse himself and disappeared behind a curtain to a disguised storage area. He appeared pushing a dolly carrying two small crates.

"I received some wonderful stock over the weekend, something I think you all might appreciate."

He patted one box affectionately and announced "First place winner at Meininger's, a German cabernet," he said to Sharon. Then turning to Provenza, he added, "As I recall, you're a beer man." He gestured to the second crate. "Also from Germany, with notes of cinnamon and banana, quite lovely."

He straightened and faced the group.

"Please, accept them as my thanks. For your faithful business, your years serving others, and for keeping a bad situation form getting worse. I thank you."

They shared a look. The gratitude wasn't necessary, but they sure hadn't received much of it over the years. It was quite unexpected.

"And please thank your lovely children again for helping get the place ready to reopen. They were a tremendous help, really."

"They're good kids," said Sharon. "Thank you so much. It's really not necessary, but we'll certainly enjoy it."

They stayed and enjoyed a visit and insisted on making purchases as well, and agreed to pick up their gifts on the way home.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with the lazy ease of browsing and sampling. When they finally made their way home, gifts and meager purchases in hand, they were exhausted, but pleasantly so. It was a day well spent.

The house smelled of sugar and spice. While the kitchen was immaculate, there was a large pot simmering on the stove and a loaf of fresh bread resting on the counter.

Sharon scanned the room and found her parents dozing on the couch, tucked beneath a quilt. Her father's glasses sat crookedly on his face, which rested awkwardly against his hand. His wife was snuggled close against him. Sharon looked on and smiled. There was no denying her time with them was shorter than ever. Having lived most of her adult life hours away from them, she cherished this season with them all the more. Her husband had lost his own parents years ago, and had joyfully embraced hers. There was something extra special about different generations coexisting. The changing of years, the passing of time, the lessons learned and wisdom shared were an unparalleled blessing.

They separated and went to their own rooms to wash up and put away their treasures before returning to enjoy supper. Will and Maggie stirred and joined them at the table.

They dug in and enjoyed a hearty vegetable soup, their favorite meal to kick off the autumn weather. As they ate, they shared with Will and Maggie the details of their day, their visit to Mr. Russell's shop, the gifts they had found for Christmas, the people they'd seen in town.

Sharon's parents told them of a day well spent- coffee and toast overlooking the lake, cooking and baking for dinner, a long afternoon nap, and sports highlights on television. Andy and Sharon agreed it seemed a perfect way to spend an afternoon.

Decaf with Maggie's cookies paired perfectly with an old black and white film to complete their Saturday.

When morning came, they headed to mass, gratitude in their hearts for health and happiness, and home.

As the weekend came to a close, Mark and Anne headed back to the city, regretful to leave the peace of the lake. They would return within the month. With that, they were content.

The others fell back into the routine solitude of the quiet cabin. There were the usual daily tasks, dishes and laundry, the upkeep of a large home. With many helping hands, the load was light enough, and joyful hearts made the days pleasant and full.

The air cooled and the leaves colored. She thought it sad in its magnificence. At their prime, their most beautiful season, the leaves were, in fact, preparing to die. The moment of their fullest splendor signaled their end. As they fell and died, the gentle carpet became brittle and crunched under foot. With so many trees in the region, the leaves were simply everywhere. Raked into piles to be burned, the neighborhood children enjoyed them until the last minute.

Chimney smoke made the air acrid and grey, and smelled of fires, cookouts, and burn piles, the fragrance of autumn.

Sitting near the fire pit, gazing out at the lake, Sharon was lost in her thoughts. She didn't hear her father's approach, didn't notice at all until he sat beside her on the swing. He handed her a large ceramic mug filled with steaming chamomile.

"Penny for your thoughts, Peanut."

She sipped gingerly at her tea and chuckled.

"Not worth a penny, Dad. Just enjoying it all-the leaves, the air. Thinking about how glad I am you and Mom are here with me, time passing like the seasons change."

"Those are some pretty hefty thoughts, Peanut. Kind of heavy for a little thing like you. But, I suppose, you've made something of a study of carrying heavy burdens. Dealing with that horse's ass," to which she snorted, "raising your kids alone, carrying and gun and badge. You know, your chosen profession certainly gave us some sleepless nights, but damned if we weren't impressed. You've made us proud every day of your life, Sharon. Things may change, children grow, one day your mother and I will be gone, but never forget how much joy and pride you gave us. And it has meant so much to us that you and Andy actually want us here with you. You look after us, but don't treat us as weak, doddering old folks. We've been so content here, being a part of this family you've created.

"Daddy," she said, taking his hand, swollen and gnarled. She wasn't capable of anything more, and that was fine.

The annual fall festival at St. Cecelia's was upon them. Sharon, Patrice, and Maggie had been baking for a week. Andy would be driving a wagon for hayrides and even Provenza was helping out. He would be teaching an old favorite, washer chunking.

The grandchildren would be coming and had been excited for weeks. Julio was joining them, still without his mystery woman. He was like their own kids on that score. They too, kept relationships close to the vest. The others would likely wait until Thanksgiving to descend upon the village, though Drew had promised to try to be there to attend the festival with his nephews.

Andy and his father-in-law sat on the back porch enjoying their morning coffee. He showed Will photos of the hay wagon he would be driving. When he'd given it a test drive, he'd snapped a few photos on his phone to show his grandsons. Andy pointed out the different features of the wagon to Will, a fellow carpenter. They admired the workmanship together. It gave Andy all sorts of ideas.

When his hand froze, it was sudden, like pushing a pause button. Then the cell phone dropped from his palm.

Will looked at Andy, who stared straight ahead, at nothing. Eyes open wide, looking at nothing. No focus.

"Andy? Son, are you okay?" When there was no response, Will picked up Andy's phone, found Sweetheart at the top of the favorites list, and hit dial.

"Honey, why are you calling from the back yard?" she answered, laughing.

"Sharon. Come quickly, darlin'," her father said. Her stomach clinched.

"Dad?" She began to rush through the house. He'd already ended the call.

She reached the back door and pulled it, harder than necessary, and race onto the back porch. If she expected to discover someone on the ground, hurt, bleeding, that isn't what she found.

Her father sat beside Andy, one arm supporting his back, the other pressed to Andy's chest, as if holding him up. Sharon knelt before her husband and called his name with a calm she didn't possess.

"Andy?" He simply stared ahead toward some unseen target. His gaze unfocused, but seemingly frozen.

"Andy, I'm right here." Sharon lifted her phone with her free hand and punched in the numbers 911. She spoke slowly and deliberately to the dispatch operator, describing what she was and was not seeing.

Just as suddenly, it was over. He closed his eyes and his body went slack, held up only by Will's hands bracing him in front and in back. Sharon pitched forward, adding her support. Provenza arrived at the door, drawn by the speed with which Sharon had left the room.

"What's going on?"

"Get Patrice," she told him.

When Andy tried to stand, his wife pressed down on his shoulders.

"Woah, not so fast. Just sit still," she warned.

Patrice came right away and dropped to her knees in front of Andy.

"Andy, can you tell me what's wrong?" she asked.

He opened his mouth to answer, but found himself unable. One side of his face drooped, like a child who had slept tool long in one position. He looked from Patrice to Sharon with confusion. They weren't even sure he recognized them.

"Andy, hold my hand," Patrice instructed.

Rather that raise his hand, he let it his fingers crawl across his leg, dragging his arm with them, in slow motion. His grip was meager at best.

"Andy, do you know who this is?" she asked, gesturing to Sharon. He gave a crooked smile and a clumsy nod.

"Good, good." She turned to her husband. "Louie, can you go out front and wait for the EMS?"

He nodded and race with a speed no one would imagine he possessed.

Will described to them what he had witnessed and Patrice nodded. It was coming together.

The paramedics arrived and Provenza led them through the side gate. They got to work assessing Andy, who they remembered from his fall last year. When they helped him to rise, he began to topple, his fall broken by the medics.

"Andy!" his wife cried.

The paramedics sat him back down.

"Let's just take a minute, then try again."

They couldn't wait long though, as time was of the essence. When they tried again, Andy was still very unsteady, as if half his body was refusing to cooperate. Finally, one of the medics disappeared and quickly returned with a gurney. Andy was then helped to situate himself, and transported to the waiting ambulance where his wife joined him.

Provenza and Patrice, Will and Maggie, followed them into town. The family was set to arrive in hours. This was not the welcome they had planned. They would get to the hospital, see what they were dealing with, and make their calls. If Patrice was correct, this definitely changed their plans.

An hour had passed since she was separated from her husband, since they took him from her. There were tests, they had said, which needed to be done quickly. Of course there were, but she knew already. She'd seen it before, in her own father even. The weakness, the droop in his face, the confusion. He couldn't speak. Stroke. Oh God.

"Stroke," she said aloud, though softly, as if to herself.

"We don't know for sure yet," said Provenza. His wife leaned forward and took Sharon's hand. They shared a look. Patrice agreed with her observation.

"It's like what happened to you, Dad," she said. She looked exhausted. How had the day gone to hell in the blink of an eye?

"Perhaps," he agreed. "But I'm fine, Peanut. Remember that. No permanent damage."

She leaned her head on his shoulder and reached for her mother's hand.

Her footsteps echoed off the tiled floor as she followed the nurse to where Andy was being monitored. While they were still compiling results, they were confident in their diagnosis, a stroke. It looked to be mild. Andy was already aware and more focused. While weak, he was coming around. He was trying valiantly to make his words work. His speech was sluggish, as his face was not balanced, but he could speak. The words were jumbled though, as if he couldn't find the ones he was looking for, and it frustrated and frightened him. Fear and frustration. His eyes implored her to understand what he couldn't seem to say.

She sat on the side of his bed, scooping up his hand. The weakness there made her stomach clench.

"You're going to be okay. You'll walk and talk and be stronger than ever. Just hang on, Andy. Believe with me."

The tears forming in her eyes were mirrored in his own. He slowly nodded.

Fortunately, his doctor agreed. He would walk and he would talk. He would rebuild his strength and be well. The stroke was small. His quick treatment mitigated further damage. He would have some new prescriptions to add to his collection. They would keep him for a few days. Small strokes sometimes were precursors to larger ones. They would watch him closely before sending him home.

When night fell, she remained beside him, willing him to rest. He may have new meds forced on him, but he refused the sleep aid. He wouldn't risk breaking further. She sighed, then, kicking off her shoes, curled in next to him. Until he could hold her again, she would hold him.

The following day was focused on getting Andy up and steady on his feet, while also making adjustments to his list of medications. He'd managed to avoid another procedure to his carotids. The shot he'd been given on arrival had busted up the remaining blockage. At that, they breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

Their children had arrived, but had reluctantly agreed to wait to see him at home. As Patrice explained, he would likely be frustrated and even emotional, by his lack of coordination and difficulty with words. Both were temporary, but frightening nonetheless. They were advised not to ask too many questions, and to help without hovering. Most of all, guard his dignity, a lesson they had learned during the period when Sharon had lost her sight.

There was a constant stream of texts on the group page, each of their kids checking in throughout the day.

How's Dad? D

Are you okay, Sharon? N

Get the results yet? H

We're about an hour out. E

Are you hungry, Mom? R

Tell Andy I love him. R

Their grandparents would be there to welcome them. They could get themselves situated. They were adults, after all. As most were making unplanned trips, their arrivals would stagger. Emily was bringing her boyfriend and they would get on the road after his shift. Julio had texted and asked if he could finally bring the woman he'd been quietly dating for several months. If nothing else, they could help occupy the boys for the weekend. Yes, of course, they had said, pleased and most curious. While Julio had enjoyed a number of first dates over the years since his wife's death, and casual outings, he'd never been serious, such was his love for Maria. So, word of a new woman, months invested, piqued their interest.

By the time Provenza picked them up at the hospital, Andy looked to be in good shape. His step was mostly steady, his words were relatively clear, if not actually the right ones. He was very tired, and his left side was still weak.

By the time they arrived home on the third day after his stroke, he was exhausted, but ever so happy to be home.

The family fought the urge to pounce on him as he entered the house, but they heeded Patrice's advice. They allowed him to get inside and seated, offering causal greetings rather that a fury of questions or looks of pity.

His grandsons took the seats on either side of him where he sat on the couch. Each held a cup with a lid and straw, and offered him a third.

"Want some tea, Grandpa?"

He gave them a slightly crooked smile and opened his hand to receive the tumbler his boy placed there. He nodded his thanks.

Nicole approached him from behind, leaning over the back of the sofa. Sliding her arms loosely around his neck, she pressed her cheek to his and breathed him in.

"Hi, Dad."

Leaning into her, he said, "Hey, khh, khh, hon," switching names when kiddo got stuck.

"I guess you really wanted out of that hayride, huh?" she gently teased, at a loss for the best thing to say.

"Julio will be driving the wagon," Provenza proclaimed upon entering the room.

"I thought we decided you were going to step in for Andy," said Patrice.

"You decided. I delegated. It's the mark of a true leader," he boasted.

Andy chuckled to himself and thought, Leave it to Provenza.

Just then, a quiet knock sounded at the front door. Sharon smiled. That has to be Julio, she thought. Everyone else is here.

"I'll get it," she said as she crossed the room. She pulled the large oak door open to reveal their dear Julio, who wore a sheepish smile.

"Afternoon, Ma'am. Good to see you guys made it home. How's the lieutenant?" He held two mid-sized duffles in his hands and behind him, shifting her shoulder bag from one arm to the other, was one Amy Sykes.

Even as she kept her eyes on the woman behind him, she leaned in to hug Julio. Then, releasing him, she reached beyond him to greet her.

"Amy!" she laughed, tickled at the revelation. "Sweetheart, it is so wonderful to see you. This is just marvelous. Come in!"

As they stepped into the great room, all eyes were on them. Amy?

Andy simply smiled a crooked smile. How about that? He thought.

That night, after a simple meal and a leisurely evening spent catching up and enjoying their grandchildren, Andy and Sharon turned in. While the others stayed up enjoying good wine and good friends, the Provenzas, O'Dwyers and Flynns were wiped out.

They shared a shower, enjoying the comforting closeness and physical support of staying together. Once they had dressed and were in bed, Sharon curled into his side, her hand across his chest, Andy's arm wrapped around her. Just like every night. Thank God he's still here, she thought.

"Comfortable?" she asked him.

"Sure," he husked. "I'm sorry."

She lifted her head enough to see him.

"Andy?"

He looked up; eyes trained on the ceiling.

"Sorry I scared you ag, gain. Never saw it c-coming. " he huffed to himself. The words came with more ease now, but he tripped over certain consonants. It irritated him.

"Well, you certainly did that, but since you didn't intend to, no apology necessary."

"It's always something, isn't it?" he sighed.

"We always make it, honey. We will this time too."

When she resettled her head atop his chest, he dropped a kiss to her hair. He knew she was right, but feeling old and frail was frustrating and frightening.

"Yeah."

The fall fest was once again a resounding success. Everyone enjoyed the food and fellowship and thousands were raised for needy families.

The grandchildren ate themselves silly and played every game at least twice. The hayride was a big hit, Julio and Amy at the wheel, having dressed in their western finest.

Every pie, cake, and cookie donated by Patrice, Sharon, and Maggie was snapped up.

The kids, big and small, tumbled into the house, hay in their hair and candied apple on their lips. Sharon had just put the baby down when the others arrived. She could see every treat the boys had sampled decorating their shirts.

"Straight to the shower," Nicole pointed.

"Use Grandma's," Sharon added. "I just put your sister down."

They scurried away and the others collapsed wherever they found a spot.

"They have so much energy!" Emily cried. "Were we like that?"

"Oh yes, absolutely. Like Energizer bunnies," their mother said. She turned to her daughter's beau. "How is work, Greg? I hope it wasn't a problem getting away on such short notice."

"Not much, ma'am. I helped a fella out last month. He was happy to repay the favor. Emily was kind of a mess, and I didn't really want her on the freeway like that. It wasn't a problem."

"Well, we appreciate it."

"I am a bit of a Daddy's girl," Emily added, causing her mother and Andy to share a smile. She had always been a Daddy's girl, mostly without the daddy.

The family remained gathered together, swapping more festival stories, creating more memories. They were spread across the room, on chairs, sofas, the floor.

Will and Maggie shared the love seat, Provenza and his wife, the arm chairs. Sharon and Nicole sat on either side of Andy, and the young people lounged about on the floor. As they chatted and laughed, Sharon took in the room, the faces of those she held so dear. Rick and Holly, so happy and settled into their married life, Em and Greg, just starting out, but with loads of potential. Her boy Rusty had just finished law school and was studying to sit for the bar. Drew was a crew leader running his own team of medics. Nic and Jeff had a beautiful, healthy family. Her parents, getting older every day, but sharing a lifetime of love and a wealth of wisdom with them all.

Then her eyes fell on Julio and Amy. She should feel some hesitation, probably left over from her days as their commanding officer. His anger issues, a lifetime of hurt and disappointment, Amy's struggle to balance her dedication and ambition in her work with her desire for connection with another. There was the issue of working together. Sharon knew how challenging that was, and the age difference. The two seemed well matched though. Julio was a serious, brooding sort and Amy, cheerful and strong-minded, could keep him from retreating too deeply into himself.

She felt no hesitation when she watched them together, laughing as he pulled straw from her hair. Yes, this could be a very good thing.

As Sharon watched the room, Maggie watched her.

Her girl had the big family she had prayed for. She'd just received it in an unexpected way. Still, she finally got her happily ever after. That, in a sense, meant Maggie had hers as well.

The following day, they celebrated William's ninetieth birthday. There was cake, ice cream, old fashioned punch, a huge lunch, the works. The afternoon was spent mostly outdoors, the boys scattering piles of crunchy leaves as they barreled into them like cannonballs.

A portrait was made of the large and growing family. Growing every day. Rick and Holly surprised them all with the news that they were expecting a baby in June, giving them even more reason to celebrate.

Yes, they were growing, by leaps and bounds, in size and in spirit. There was a strength gained in sharing the load. No one was too heavily burdened when there were plenty of helping hands.

October was gone and November had arrived, bringing her colder weather with her. Sharon and Andy had resumed their daily walks around the lake. They could actually see the seasons change in those hikes. Leaves went from new green shoots, to full vibrance, to soft, saturated satin, to the crispy brown of a paper bag. Then, in due season, baby green shoots reappeared. The circle of life had become more real to them than ever, here on the hill.

Thanksgiving would look a little different this year. Drew, Rusty, Rick and Holly would be enjoying an all-inclusive ski-trip Drew had won in a raffle. The guys enjoyed skiing. Holly did as well, but she would stick to the lodge this time. She wouldn't risk a fall.

Emily would be spending the day with her boyfriend's family in San Fransisco and was as nervous as she was excited.

So, Sharon and Andy, Provenza and Patrice, Maggie and Will, would be hosting a slightly smaller bunch. Anne and Mark would be joining them, as well as Nicole and her family. They were always thrilled when the children were there. They were growing so fast. Little Sharon Rose was almost a year old, come Christmas Eve.

They arrived mid-morning on Monday. Mark and Anne had checked on Andy regularly since his stroke, but had not visited. Andy was pleased to see them. Anne had always had his respect as a seasoned officer and unshakable leader. Mark had long been his friend, confidant, and confessor of sorts.

The warm greeting he gave Andy, a long, still embrace, held so much, no words needed as of yet.

I'm so glad to see you.

I really hate that this happened.

I'm here.

Anne and Mark made the perfect fourth to their little couples' club. They found they very much enjoyed every opportunity to spend time together.

Nicole and her family arrived, thrilled to be back at the cabin and relieved to see Andy's recovery going so well. She headed straight for her father, her baby girl attached, like a little monkey, to her hip.

When Sharon Rose spied her grandfather, she reached for him, hands greedily opening and closing. "Pa!" she exclaimed with a gummy grin. When Nicole settled the baby in Andy's lap, Sharon Rose launched into a delightful, nonsensical conversation, likely all about the joys and injustices of life with two older brothers. There were no real words, other than the occasional Ma, but she certainly had something to say.

His grandsons sat on each side, animatedly competing for his attention. They finally settled for telling the same story, just completing each other's sentences. They were a bit like he and his partner, Andy thought suddenly, just with less snark.

"Oh my," Sharon sighed, as if just discovering some rare find. "I just realized who they remind me of!"

"Louie and Andy?" Patrice asked, having thought the same for quite some time.

"Yes!" Sharon Laughed. "How am I just figuring this out? At least they're not biting each other's heads off."

"But just as childlike," Patrice agreed.

"Hey!" both men objected.

"Childlike, boys. Not childish," Patrice assured them.

"Although," Sharon playfully teased and squeezed her husband's shoulders from behind.

They settled in and scattered about the house. The boys hunkered down in their room, content with a boardgame, while Provenza and Flynn had the baby well in hand. Will sat nearby, making silly faces at the little girl. A large, thick quilt was spread between the men on the floor, at its center, the baby and her toys. None of them held her interest as much as her own toes, which she seemed to find quite tasty.

In the kitchen, the ladies saw to supper. Already, the cabin was filled with the fragrance of fall. Bread baked in the oven, cookies cooled on the counter, and a thick, hearty vegetable stew simmered on the stove. It was all very inviting, as a home should be.

Anne worked beside Sharon, preparing vegetables for a salad. She studied her friend's features and smiled. "Andy looks well. His recovery seems to be on target?"

Sharon smiled proudly and nodded.

"He's doing well, yes. Physically, he's much stronger. His left side tends to be a little sluggish if he gets over tired. But stronger and less wobbly, yes. His biggest frustration is vocabulary. He still loses his words at random times. Just having a conversation, and suddenly he can't find the word. Until ten minutes later, then bam! The other night we were lying in bed and he suddenly says "shoe," out of nowhere. He couldn't call the word to mind when he needed it an hour earlier, but there it was. Certain sounds seem to get stuck. The speech therapist gave him exercises and he does them, but in casual conversation, he's just started choosing different words rather than let himself get too angry." She sighed. "Like he says, he's here and that's all that matters. The rest will come. It did with my dad."

Anne leaned over and nudged her friend's shoulder, noticing the underlying unrest. "He's right, Sharon."

They moved gracefully about the kitchen, with a practiced ease. When she spoke again, it was cautiously.

"Are you okay, Sharon? I know it can be stressful taking care of an independent man."

Sharon snickered. "That it can."

"When I got hurt in the accident, I was truly helpless for a while. I had to depend so heavily on Andy, and we'd only just been married. He was so wonderful. Even said it was his turn to take care of me. Then when he fell and hurt himself last year, it was my turn again, now this. It just seems like it never stops. I know he's frustrated, but he doesn't aim it at me, remarkably. He's good about taking his meds and doing his exercises. He knows how important it is and he doesn't want this to happen again. But, in the back of my mind, I still worry. He's been eating right and exercising for years, and he still had a stroke. I guess it's the randomness that's scary."

"Life just seems to turn on a dime, doesn't it?" Anne asked.

Sharon looked at her, sighed and nodded. If anyone could understand that, it was Anne. Yet years after losing her husband and daughter, she'd taken a chance on happiness again and married Mark. And there was Patrice. She'd lost her first husband in the line of duty. It couldn't have been easy to commit herself to another cop.

"That it does. We just have to not give in to the uncertainty."

"And have a little faith?" added Anne.

Sharon chuckled through the veil of heavy tears shimmering in her eyes.

"Yeah. Forgive my moment."

"Not a problem. I'm no stranger."

The week was spent in cozy cabin bliss. The boys spent time outdoors with their parents, their sister cheerfully enjoying the attention of the others. There were savory meals, puzzles, stories by the fire, and afternoons in the treehouse.

By the time Thanksgiving Day dawned, colder than expected, they were perfectly content to lounge lazily about the living room, enjoying the toasty warmth of the fire. The various dishes had been prepared the day before and the turkey was in the oven. Spices filled the air with their earthy perfume. A silent snow fell beyond the large windows, collecting on treetops and painting a picture worthy of a holiday card.

Andy was sprawled haphazardly across one end of the couch, eyes closed and taking in the quiet, when he felt two tiny weights rest against his knees. Opening his eyes, he found the cherubic face of his little granddaughter, the very picture of her mother at the same age. She gripped the fabric of his pants pulled herself up.

"Pa!" she practically sang. "Up."

Andy bent low and slipped his hands under her little arms and pulled her onto his lap. "Hey, Puh, Princess. How's Puh, Pa's little one?"

Sharon Rose looked upon her grandfather with such fascination, then fell forward against his chest. "Pa."

He held her close, reminded of sweet times with his own children when they were very small, when things were still good. When Sharon Rose sat back up, she looked at Andy and asked "Cup?"

He smiled and asked, "You want your cuh, cup, Peanut?"

"Cup, Pa."

"Ok. Cup, Pa. Pa will geh, get the cup. You want juice?"

The toddler nodded her head, then laid it against Andy's shoulder as he carried her to the kitchen. He set her on the countertop next to the refrigerator and, holding onto her with one hand, pulled the juice out with his other. He filled her cup and the two returned to the living room taking, this time, the recliner.

"You want to rest with Pa?" he asked, deliberately slowing his speech to practice his troublesome sounds. He was trying to make himself use them. Talking with Sharon Rose was perfect. She had trouble talking too.

The little girl nodded with sleepy eyes. They sat together in the recliner, Sharon Rose laying belly to belly against him. She took an occasional sip of her juice, patted her Pa's chest, and they both nodded off.

The others smiled, and either joined them in napping where they were, or scattered to their own rooms. Most stayed right where they were, happy to doze in front of the fire.

After a day spent doing very little, it was time to wash up for Thanksgiving dinner. Sharon and Andy were putting the finishing touches on the table when she turned to him and planted a firm kiss to his lips.

"What was that for?" he asked, smiling brightly.

"No reason, really. Just extra thankful for you today. You were so cute with the baby earlier. You two were just having your own little conversation. It was precious."

"She's easy to talk to. I don't get frustrated with myself. She can't use her words yet either. Makes things simpler, I guess." He kissed her back and said "I'm extra thankful for you too." With a final kiss to the tip of her nose, he said, "I'll geh, get the buh, boys," and left the kitchen.

Sharon stood in place and shook her head, wishing she could make it all easier.

They sat down to dinner. Though they normally had a prayer before a meal, they all sat with anticipation before the large turkey in the center of the table. As eager as they were, they were aware that it was a special day and there would be no rush. As they had in years past, they went around the table, sharing their thankful thoughts, as the boys called them. There was so much to be thankful for, and taking the time to acknowledge that was important.

And then they prayed. And ate. And laughed. And loved.

Christmas vacation! It was here! Their large, extended, non-traditional family would soon arrive. The next two weeks would fill their cozy, but not often quiet cabin with loads of laughter, food, games, and, of course, sleighrides. There had been trips to the market, days spent baking treats for the children and assembling casseroles to throw in the oven, Christmas decorations and angels by the dozens brought out of storage, and plenty of shopping. The gifts were wrapped and tucked lovingly beneath the tree. There was an embarrassment of riches under that tree, given the sheer number of people joining them for the holiday. Firewood had been gathered and placed indoors beside the hearth, as well as outside near the fire pit. The past few days had been busy, spent getting ready for their many guests. Rooms were prepared with fresh bedding and flowers and a few new items had been left for the grandsons, as usual. If Nicole and Jeff thought there would come a time when their children wouldn't be a little spoiled by the many grandparents in their lives, they were mistaken. Since it was usually traditional games and puzzles instead of mind-numbing electronics, they were okay with it. Maggie had been inspired by her great-granddaughter, and had taken to sewing again. As a result, Sharon Rose had several new dresses and rompers waiting for her.

The troops arrived in stages throughout the day on Friday, intent on making the most of their two weeks. As Sam and Seth had an early release from school, they arrived earlier than the others. Julio and Amy had to work the weekend, but would head out on Monday morning. Emily and her boyfriend, Greg, were driving out with Rusty and Drew, and would arrive in time for dinner. Anne and Mark had a few stops to make before heading out on Saturday. Rick and Holly would join them. They had asked to bring an extra guest with them and, of course, Sharon told them there was always room for more. They didn't explain further, although from the conversations they'd shared over the past several weeks, she had an idea.

Sharon and Andy had decided to wait until Saturday afternoon to choose their tree. It was something they had begun in the early days of combining their families, something the kids, young and old, enjoyed doing together. They would take the sleigh and the tools to the other side of the lake, and select the family tree. Together, they would dress it with ornaments, old and new, and officially welcome Christmas.

Dinner followed several rounds of hugs, handshakes, and kisses. There was an impressive spread laid out on the kitchen counter tops, reminiscent of the covered-dish suppers they'd enjoyed at church in days of old. Casseroles, spaghetti, meats and vegetables, all hot and ready, something for everyone. They built their own ice cream sundaes for dessert afterward, and finally retired to the great room to enjoy continue catching up around the fire. They boys were excited to examine their new treasures and took off for their room, while Sharon and Nicole oohed and ahhed over the precious creations Maggie had gifted. Emily and Greg, Rusty, Drew and Jeff all grabbed an adult beverage and headed outside to enjoy the fire pit.

"Oh, I'm so glad you all are here!" Sharon gushed. "It's so good to have a full house." Her friends and family smiled and shook their heads. "What? It is! It's the reason we added on to the house. It's never better than when it's full, just like the heart."

Andy grinned and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Someone's definitely got the Christmas spirit."

"Did you doubt?" she asked him.

"Never," he laughed.

"So, when are Rick and Holly arriving?" Nicole asked.

"They'll head out in the morning. They were visiting the cemetery this evening. Turns out, Holly's mother, Margaret, is buried in the same place Anne's husband and daughter are. So, they decided to go together and pay their respects for Christmas before coming out. Also, Anne and Mark are bringing someone with them. I'm not sure, but from our talks over the past several weeks, I think it's a young woman they've been mentoring."

"Mentoring how?" Nicole asked.

"Their church partners with a local group home for kids who, for whatever reason, can't live in their own homes. I don't know the situation, but they've been volunteering there. Something nice they can do together. Holly's grown and gone, and Anne missed the chance to raise her daughter after the accident. Anyway, they've really hit it off, and they've check her out for the holiday."

"It'll be great. She can have a real Christmas. How lovely," Maggie said. "We'll be sure to make her feel welcome."

"Absolutely. The more, the merrier," said Nicole.

"That's what I always say!" said Sharon.

They enjoyed the rest of the evening, sipping cocoa and hot tea, nibbling on cookies, and watching Sharon Rose's valiant efforts to walk. Andy observed that she looked a bit like he did in the days following his stroke and, if he was honest, even recently. If he let himself do too much, if he got too tired, his body would let him know it by getting very slow and sluggish, his left side easily fatigued. He tried to avoid that, and usually it wasn't a problem. As the holiday approached and with it, the family's arrival, he had been pushing it. As Sharon Rose stumbled and landed flat on her diaper-padded bottom, he chuckled. If he wasn't careful, that might be him, and he wasn't nearly that cute. Tonight, he felt great. All these smiling faces, together in one room. Who would ever have thought? He was in love with his life. His wife was right. The more, the merrier.

As they dressed for bed, Andy and Sharon beamed from ear to ear. As he brushed his teeth, he smiled at the sound of his wife humming in the adjoining room. Her warm alto, low and lazy, sang a wordless "Silent Night." She was happy, so he was happy. When she slid up behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle, he quickly finished up and turned in her embrace.

"You're happy," he mused.

"Unbelievably so," she agreed.

"Feel like celebrating?" he flirted.

"Again? Someone's rather insatiable. I thought you outdid yourself this morning." She nuzzled the curve of his neck, completely onboard with the idea.

"Well, as you said, the more, the merrier."

The next morning, they enjoyed a modest breakfast before preparing for a day of hiking through the snow to choose and cut down a tree. It was a cold, frosty morning, and put them in the mind of Christmas.

Mid-morning, a knock sounded at the front door. Sharon left her post at the kitchen sink and grabbed a towel, drying her hands on the way to the entrance. She opened the door and smiled when she saw her son, Rick and his wife, Holly.

"Mom!" Ricky reached for her and pulled her in tight. "You look great. How's Andy?" he asked in her ear. He stepped back to search her face.

"Doing well, baby. Go see for yourself. Holly, honey, how are you?" The young woman gave her a warm hug and a kiss to her cheek. What a dear she was.

"Rick's right. You look good."

Sharon's eyes were drawn to Holly's belly, which carried just a tiny bump, evidence of their next grandchild. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel good, when I'm not throwing up. But my energy is good. I'm exercising and taking my vitamins, which are nasty, by the way."

"They are!" Sharon agreed. "They don't do anything for the nausea either." She pulled a sour face just thinking of the pre-natal vitamins of her youth. "Go on in and make yourself comfortable."

As Rick and Holly made the rounds of family greetings, Sharon waited at the door for their other guests, who were just retrieving their belongings from the back of the car.

Anne and Mark approached her eagerly, and set their bags on the porch. The girl joining them was more reticent, and bashfully made her way to meet them. Andy came up behind them, ready to meet her.

Mark reached out and shook Andy's hand and introduced the girl.

"Andy, Sharon, I'd like you to meet Lydia Torres. Lydia, this is Andy Flynn and his wife, Sharon.

The young woman offered them both a shy smile.

"Lydia, it's so nice to meet you. Welcome to our home."

"Nice to meet you both," she said in a quiet, but steady voice. "Thank you for having me, Mrs. Flynn."

"Sharon. Please, call me Sharon. And this is Andy."

Andy smiled, but kept his hands in his pocket, remembering that Rusty did not like to be touched when he first came to them. "Hi, Lydia. Welcome. I hope you like the snow. We've got plenty."

She smiled at that. "Actually, this is my first snow."

"Well, it is beautiful, but it's also cold. Why don't we go inside? Would you all like some coffee or something to eat?"

"We ate before we left this morning. Coffee sounds great. I can make us some sandwiches or something. Thanks," said Anne.

"Grilled cheese sound good?" came Maggie's voice.

At that, Lydia's eyes sparkled.

"I'll take that as a yes?" Maggie said.

They made their way into the great room and set their bags down near the kitchen. Hugs and introductions were given all around. Everyone was curious to meet the young woman visiting with Mark and Anne, but they were mindful of how overwhelming so many people might be. They were a rather boisterous bunch, after all. They could be rather intimidating.

As they made their way back into the room, dressed and ready, they each made a point to introduce themselves and make their guest feel welcome.

"Hi, Lydia. I'm Emily. Glad you're here. I hope you'll go with us to cut down the Christmas tree," said Emily.

"Cut down the tree?" Lydia asked her, eyes wide with wonder.

"Yeah. It's awesome. We go to this area on the other side of the lake where you can pick your tree and chop it down. Smells wonderful. You in?"

"Um, sure. Sounds fun. Thanks."

Sharon smiled at Anne and nodded. Anne exhaled a breath she hadn't noticed she was holding and returned her friend's smile.

An hour later, after putting their belongings in the guest house and having a bite to eat, they headed out to the far side of Big Bear Lake. They piled into two cars, and the sleigh. They would use that to haul the tree back to the house.

Lydia couldn't believe her eyes.

"A sleigh? You have a sleigh? Like a real sleigh?"

"Yep. Pop made it for Mom for Christmas. She loved sleighrides as a kid. He's kind of a romantic. So, he built her a sleigh," Emily told her.

"He built it?" She took in the smooth lines, the leather seat. "It's amazing."

"Yes, it is," said Sharon, as she joined them in front of the house. "Would you like to ride in it?"

Lydia looked at her, excitement dancing in her eyes, and eagerly nodded.

By the time they reached the tree farm near the top of the hill, their excitement was brimming. They climbed out of the cars and the sleigh and tromped through the snow in search of the perfect tree. Nicole and Jeff took the boys and headed in one direction, while Anne and Mark and Sharon and Andy went in another. The young people invited Lydia to join them and she readily agreed. Each group found a favorite and took a picture, sending it to the others. When the overall winner was agreed upon, they met up and got to work liberating the tree from the hard, icy ground.

Hours later, the tall White Spruce was nestled into the tree stand in the corner of the great room, green and fragrant. After dinner was consumed and cleared away, the decorating began. As each ornament was brought out, stories of remember the time were shared around the room. In keeping with years past, each added their own ornament to the tree. Each carried a story, a memory. There were tiny pink ballet slippers belonging to Emily, a Dodgers-themed ornament belonging to Provenza. His wife chose the more meaningful Our First Christmas to contribute to the tree. Nicole and Jeff had one made bearing the names of their three children, Sam, Seth, and Sharon Rose. Even Anne quietly hung a small ornament of pearly white satin, stitched with the name Erin. Her daughter had been taken from her, as had her husband, when Erin was only nine. Mark stood behind her as she positioned the ball on the tree, his hands resting at her waist. Once she had tucked it into the branches of the tree, her husband reached around her and placed a second beside it. A brass bell, engraved with Mark and Anne. She turned and gave him a crooked smile, surprised by the gift. She kissed his cheek, and together they sat back to give the others a turn.

The tree filled with sparkle and shine. Maggie made tub after tub of popcorn and helped the boys to string it around the tree. Sharon and Andy stepped forward and placed their own ornaments there as well. He chose a Nutcracker, from her. She chose an angel, from him. Andy helped Seth to place the largest angel atop the tree and it was complete. They lowered the lights and took their seats. With only the tree, candles, and the fire in the hearth to illuminate the room, they sighed in perfect contentment. This was Christmas.

Curled together in bed, Sharon smiled into the darkness. Andy could sense it and smiled with her. "It was a great day."

"It certainly was. Everyone looks so good. Ricky and Holly, Emily and Greg. That seems to be going well. Nic and her bunch. Mark and Anne look happy. Lydia is just lovely. I don't really know her story, but she seems to be a sweet girl."

"She does. The kids just took over and dragged her along with them. I think being here will be good for her. Certainly better than Christmas in a group home."

"Everything is better here," she agreed. "This is the most wonderful place on earth."

"Um hmm," he graveled, thinking more of his position, tangled up in her embrace.

The next day was spent in a variety of activities, from baking to playing in the snow, to a trip to town for St. Cecelia's Holiday Market. Andy, Sharon, and Rusty had made something of a tradition of volunteering at the church fair. It was their way of expressing their gratitude both for the support the church had given Sharon over the years, and for her son. He'd seen the ugly side of life on the street as well as some pretty awful foster homes. St. Cecelia's had a great partnership with the local foster system and the community was deeply invested.

Maggie stayed in, baking enough cookies to keep the boys fed. William and Provenza had a date with a football game. The others piled into their cars and caravanned down into the village. It was cold day, but clear and beautiful.

The grounds were draped in holiday bunting, red ribbon wrapped every fence post. The open field outside the church was covered in a thick blanket of snow and children and adults alike enjoyed sleigh rides with Andy all afternoon. There was a hayride and horses as well. Indoors, there were stations to sample baked goods, many of which were provided by the ladies of the extended Flynn family, and traditional carnival games. Santa himself was situated in the corner, entertaining little ones for hours. There were donation boxes mounted near the doors. All proceeds would go to the children supported by St. Cecelia's.

Rusty, Greg and Emily walked about the grounds, watching all the goings-on. They took Lydia with them. Strolling the churchyard, they laughed at the children making a slushy mess of the once pristine snow. There was an impromptu snowball fight and then a search for the best hot chocolate.

"This is really great. It's awesome that the whole town comes out like this," said Lydia.

"It is," Rusty said. "The foster care system here is technically part of San Bernardino, but they operate as their own entity. It's really a model for how it should work. Much better that LA. I never saw this kind of support in that system," he said, with regret in his voice.

Lydia looked at him and asked, "You were in the system?"

"Two years, yeah. But before that, I bounced around with my biological mom and whatever bozo she was with, until they dumped me. It took witnessing a crime to get free of all that. That's when Sharon took me in and adopted me. Not everyone gets that ending. How about you, if I can ask?"

"My mom left too. Two years ago. My dad tried, but he was just so sad and angry after she was gone. He started using and lost his job. Then our house. He just couldn't take care of me anymore. I've been at Harbor House for almost a year. It's not too bad. Some of the girls are a real mess, but the ladies who run it are ok. I see my dad from time to time. Mark and Anne started volunteering there at the beginning of the summer. We hit it off. They've checked me out for the weekend a few times. It's nice to get away from the others. Their place is quiet. We do stuff together and they leave me alone when I need it. I'm never alone at the group home. So, that's nice."

"They're good people. I've seen Anne at work. She's kind of a bad ass. It's really different to see her all fluffy and soft. She looks happy, not so serious all the time. Commanding SWAT's pretty intense," Rusty told her.

"And Mark's just the nicest person," added Emily. "Very much like Pop. Just a really good guy."

Lydia just nodded. She agreed, but was still a little guarded with her feelings. She didn't really understand what the situation was. They weren't her parents, or even her foster parents. She would age out of the system in a year and half. What she would do then, where she would live, she had no idea. Maybe they'd let her stay as a volunteer. So, she didn't know where all this would lead, but they were good people who treated her well. That was more than enough.

Rusty felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and withdrew it to read a text from Sharon.

"Hey, the others, are meeting up in the hall for supper. You guys hungry?"

"I could eat," said Emily. "Lydia?"

They younger girl smiled. "Definitely."

When they entered the Fellowship Hall of St. Cecelia's, they found the rest of their group at a large table against the far wall. They joined them and shed their coats to take in the cozy warmth of the room. Taking a minute to see what all was on the table, they then made their way to the side of the room where there was table after table of covered dish offerings. Making their plates, they returned and took their seats with the family.

"What have you guys been up to?" asked Andy.

"Just walking around, enjoying the snow. Got some cider, watched the boys on the sleigh," said Emily.

"What do you think of our little town, Lydia?" asked Sharon, smiling.

Lydia looked at those at the table, and smiled back. "It's like one of those holiday movies on television. Lamp posts with bows, snow everywhere, an actual town square. I didn't think places like this were real. It's nice."

"It is. We've loved it since our first visit, and I couldn't even see it then. Still, I knew there was something special about the area," said Sharon.

At Lydia's curious expression, Sharon explained. "All long story for another day."

"We come out here every chance we get," said Emily. "Who'd have thought? My friends think I'm nuts for wanting to spend my vacation time with my parents." She chuckled to herself. "I waited a long time for this family," she added firmly, making the others smile.

Rick raised his tea glass in a toast "Here, here!"

The following days were spent enjoying the snow outdoors and the blazing fire inside. With the addition of Julio and Amy, the house was filled to the brim. They were packed in tight, just the way they liked it. With the family in their regular rooms, and Anne, Mark, and Lydia in the guest house, the others were scattered about the house. Amy took the second bed in Emily's room, and Greg, Julio, Drew and Rusty took the living room.

A few days before Christmas, the young folks decided to drive up into the hills to catch a meteor shower. Rick and Holly, Emily and Greg, Julio and Amy, Drew, Rusty, and Lydia piled into Drew's old model suburban and were on their way. Lydia was delighted to be included. Anne and Mark were so happy she seemed to be fitting it. The older kids had been great at keeping her involved, dragging her along everywhere they went. They were a bit older, but could each relate in some way to being young and disconnected from those you love.

The older adults stayed behind and made themselves comfortable in front of the fire. Their kids were grownups and could take care of themselves, but their parents were still likely to wait up. It was dark and cold, after all, and the roads were icy. It's just what moms and dads did. So, while Will and Maggie, and Provenza and Patrice shuffled off to bed, Sharon and Andy, along with Mark and Anne, settled in with hot tea and warm blankets, to visit while they waited. Nicole and Jeff put their kids to bed and headed out back for some stargazing of their own.

The made their way up the road leading to the hilltop viewing area, a spot they had found on one of their many hikes around the area. It was a rougher trip in the snow and ice and they'd had to go slow and right themselves occasionally on the drive. Drew was starting to consider new tires by the time they arrived. They bounded out of the suburban and made the trek to the spot Ricky had suggested. It was a gentle slope on the side of the hill, overlooking a portion of the lake. There was a wide wooden boardwalk connecting a graveled parking area to the hiking trail, crossing an outlet of water from the lake. There was snow covering the pines, green and fragrant, and Lydia thought it looked like a postcard. Spreading first a thick tarp, then a blanket on the ground, they sat down and awaited the show.

Sharon retook her seat beside her husband, having just checked in on the grandchildren. They slept so peacefully, those three. The very picture of innocence. When she sat next to Andy, he reached around her and pulled her in close, placing a kiss to the side of her head.

"Kids okay?" he asked.

"Oh yes," she said. "To sleep that soundly, not a care in the world. I don't even remember a time."

"They're so precious when they sleep," Anne added. "Those were sweet times."

They settled into easy conversation about everything and nothing at all. Two couples curled together, one on the sofa, the other on the loveseat nearby, enjoying the romance of the snowy night and the blazing fire.

The sky was alive with a frenzy of fiery tracks across the black expanse. The young people huddled together against the cold, wrapped in blankets, marveling at the jaw dropping scene above them. It wasn't something they'd seen before and they all agreed it had been worth the trip.

They stood up, stiff from sitting too long in the frosty air, and folded their blankets. Stepping carefully, they made their way back across the crunchy snow toward the car. Holding tight to one another for support, they went slowly. Holly couldn't afford a slip on the ice and walked securely wrapped in Ricky's arms. Crossing the bridge slowed them even more, ice coating the surface. When they heard a sharp yelp behind them, they turned to see Lydia on the ground, having fallen through the walkway. The others were instantly at her side, Drew and Julio lifting her from either side. She was stuck, held in place by the broken boards, and wedged in by the rocks below. Her eyes were wide with panic and she trembled, with pain and from the cold.

"Hold on, Lydia. We've got you. We won't let you fall." Julio looked her in the eye until she nodded, short and jerky movements. It was important that she did not give in to the panic.

Ricky and Rusty were beside them in a flash, pulling and kicking at the surrounding boards to create a larger opening. Greg supported her from behind. If they forced her through the break in the bridge, she could be further injured. Once they had more space to work with, they easily pulled her free. Julio lifted her into his arms with little effort, and Amy quickly covered her with a blanket. They walked as quickly as was safe back to the suburban and settled her in the front seat. Drew ran around the front of the car, only to find that one of his front tires was flattened by a jagged gouge and the other was much lower than when they left. Apparently, he was right about the tires. They had been no match for the road. He had one spare, but needed two. Lydia needed medical attention.

He ran to the back of the SUV and pulled a large tackle box out of the rear compartment. Making his way around to the passenger side, he set it down and opened it up. It was full of medical supplies for such a time as this. As a paramedic, he never left home without it.

"Greg, help me out, will you? Emily, call for help. We're not getting out of here in this thing. Somebody start the car and get it warmed up," he said, taking charge. Fortunately, among them were a medic and two nurses. It could be worse. Lydia sat shaking in the front seat. Amy added the other blankets while Drew removed her boot and cut away her pants leg and got to work.

They were practically asleep when Andy's cell rang. He reached for it without even glancing at the caller ID.

"'Lo," he growled, half asleep.

"Pop, we need your help," said Emily.

Immediately, Andy sat up straight, bringing his wife, who was curled into his side, with him.

"Em, what's wrong, baby?"

Sharon was instantly awake and aware. "Emily?"

He nodded and patted her leg while he listened.

"Lydia fell through the bridge at the foot of the hill. I guess the wood was weak. Anyway, she's cut her leg up pretty bad and I'm betting she'll need some stitches, but the suburban has two flats. The roads are a mess."

"Sit tight. I'm on my way. Where is Lydia now?" he asked, which alerted Mark and Anne.

"What happened to Lydia?" Anne asked, her face reddening with fear.

"She's in the car. Holly, Drew and Greg are helping her. We're just trying to get her warmed up."

"We're leaving now, baby. Sit tight."

"Andy, the roads are bad. Be careful. If you lose your tires too, we'll really be in a fix."

"Got it."

"What's wrong?" asked Mark as he and Anne both got to their feet and grabbed their coats.

"Lydia had a fall. I guess the wood on the bridge was bad. She's cut up. The guys are helping her now, but Drew's got a couple of flats. The road is bad, they said. We'll take our car. The tires are new and have chains on them. Let's go."

"Let me tell Nicole we're leaving so she can listen for the kids. I'll get my coat," said Sharon. She quickly made her way to the back door before returning, coat and gloves in hand.

They raced into the night, a prayer on their lips.

They couldn't get her to stop shaking. The car was warming up nicely, but still she trembled. Obviously, she'd gotten a little wet in the fall, but she was also likely in shock. Amy crawled in through the driver's side and told Julio "Pull her toward you." When he did, Amy slid into the passenger seat and pulled Lydia back against her. Perhaps she could warm her up body to body.

"The knee is awfully swollen. She probably twisted it went she slipped. She's gonna have to get it checked." Greg rummaged through the tackle box and found what he could to fashion a crude splint to immobilize her knee while Holly cleaned the deep jagged cuts that ran the length of her leg.

Somehow, Andy made the drive in twenty-five minutes. They parked behind Drew's suburban and shown their headlights on the car's passenger side. Mark and Anne bounded from the car before Andy had completely stopped. They ran to Lydia's side and hovered over her.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" Anne asked the girl, who barely registered their presence.

"Lydia? Honey, let's get you into the other car and we'll get you to a doctor. Okay? Mark asked her.

Slowly, the girl turned her head and registered Mark and Anne standing before her. She gave them a sad smile and nodded.

Mark bent low and lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the waiting vehicle.

"I've got you, baby." He cradled her so gently, so securely, that it only took her an instant to dissolve against him. Anne followed behind them and opened the back door for her husband. Mark set Lydia down on the warm back seat and Anne circled the car to climb in on the other side.

Andy freed the donut from the trunk of his SUV and carried it to his son to use on his car. That would give him the two spares he needed. They would have to go at a crawl on two temporary tires, but they would make it. Then he checked in on the kids before returning to his own car.

Lydia sat centered in the back seat, Mark and Anne on either side of her to warm her up. Andy and Sharon climbed in and buckled their safety belts and turned to check those in the back.

"Lydia, we're going to take you to the village medical center. Okay? Have a doctor take a look at you? Drew, Holly and Greg did a great job tending to you, but they say you'll probably need stitches and your knee needs to be checked out too. It's a bit of a drive in this weather, so just try to rest until we're there. Okay, sweetheart?" Andy asked, to which the girl simply nodded. Andy turned again to his wife.

"The guys are gonna get the tires changed, then head back home. I would imagine they'll grab one of the other cars and join us in town."

"Sounds good," she said. She turned to Mark and Anne and asked, "You ready?"

They both nodded in the affirmative and they were on their way.

By the time they arrived at the medical center, it was very late and the emergency ward was relatively empty. Mark lifted Lydia out of the car and carried her as far as the entrance, where he was met by an orderly with a wheelchair. It took a bit of explaining, the situation with Mark and Anne. They were not her parents or even her legal guardians, but they had permission to travel with her and permission to seek treatment in the event of an emergency. They had paperwork and a number to call if verification was needed. That was enough for hospital staff. Lydia was wheeled away, Anne right behind her. Mark stayed behind to make an attempt at the forms given to him by the night nurse.

It was after daybreak before Lydia emerged, Anne and Mark at her side. When she saw the family scattered about the waiting room, her eyes widened in surprise. They were there. All of them. The oldest and the youngest. Every one of them.

"Oh, wow," she murmured. "You're all here. How long have you all been sitting out here?"

"We came as soon as we had a car with real tires," Rick said, smiling.

"And we came as soon as the kids were up this morning," said Nicole.

"We caught a ride with them. I don't drive in the snow anymore," said William.

"How do you feel, honey?" asked Maggie, genuine concern etched across her features.

Lydia continued to look about the room. These people. She didn't know what to say. She felt a hand gently squeeze her shoulder and looked up at Anne.

"I, uh, I'll be fine. Thank you. I can't believe you're all here." It was all she was capable of expressing, such was the depth of her gratitude.

"The doctor says she may need surgery on the knee. Meniscus looks torn. She's got about a thousand stitches in her leg, but that should heal pretty quickly," said Mark.

"A thousand?" Anne rolled her eyes. "Sixty-four. But it might as well be a thousand. Right, Lydia?"

"Right," she agreed. "All I want to do right now is go to sleep. Is that okay?"

"Absolutely, honey," Mark said. "You don't even have to wait 'til we're home. You can sleep in the car."

"Sounds like a plan," she said in a drowsy voice, proof that her meds were kicking in.

The caravan made the trek back to the cabin, and made their way inside. Maggie went straight to the kitchen and saw to lunch. Those who had spent the night sitting up in the waiting room would want to eat then take a nap. With strong medication on board, Lydia would need something in her stomach as well.

Patrice happily took over little Sharon Rose. Now that she was pulling up on everything, she needed to be watched even more carefully. Her brothers made a beeline for their room, and the others generally fell any place they could. It had been a long night, with little chance of getting comfortable.

Mark settled Lydia in the recliner where she could rest until she had something to eat. Then, it was off to bed. As the girl watched the others dance about the room, each helping the other or snuggling together on any available surface, she shook her head. She'd never known such people. They seemed genuinely happy together. They helped without asking. Some of them were related and some not. Somehow, though, they acted like a family. A family that all sat up waiting all night for her. It defied logic.

A tray was placed across her lap, grilled cheese and hot tea. The former was her favorite. The latter she'd yet to try.

"Trust me," Maggie told her. "It's just the thing you need."

She nibbled at her sandwich and sipped at her tea. Maggie was right. It was soothing to her stomach, still clenched in nerves from the events of the past several hours. Her adventure in the snow had ended in an injury that would likely require an operation, her first. However, it had also produced the most amazing gift. These people, who she'd known less than a week. She never knew people could be so good. It was that thought which was on her mind as she dozed off in the recliner.

When she awoke hours later, she was still there. The tray was gone and, in its place, a soft quilt was tucked around her. As her eyes adjusted, she looked around. The great room was quiet, all but deserted. The only light was from the tree in the corner and the fire in the hearth. A few feet away, she spied her, friends? Guardians? Mark sat in the corner of the sofa, feet propped up on the coffee table and head tilted back against the cushion. Anne was stretched out along the length of the couch, her head in her husband's lap. All night, they had remained at her side, and here they were, still beside her should she need them.

Almost as if they sensed her waking, Mark and Anne stirred where they rested.

"Hey there. How do you feel?" Mark asked her. Anne got to her feet and knelt next to Lydia. She raised her hand toward her and paused as if asking permission before laying it against her forehead. When the girl smiled, Anne checked her temperature.

"No fever. That's good. We don't want you to get an infection. It's time for your pain medication. I'll get it for you. Would you like something to drink?"

Lydia smiled and asked, "May I have some tea?"

Christmas Eve. A day of anticipation. Preparation. There really wasn't much left to do. The tree was decorated. They had been baking for days. Gifts were piled high under the tree and stockings were hung along the entire perimeter of the fireplace. Each among them were represented, including Julio and Amy, and Lydia. Rather than a busy, bustling atmosphere, the cabin took on an air of quiet calm. It was almost a hurry up and wait kind of thing. Everything which needed to be done, had been done. All was ready.

The boys spent the lion's share of the day outside in the snow, their many honorary aunts and uncles entertaining them. And wearing them out. They would be brought in to have supper and get cleaned up for Midnight Mass in town.

Once dinner had been devoured, they still had time before dressing for church. They made their way into the great room and took a seat wherever they could find one. Andy pulled out his worn copy of "'Twas the Night Before Christmas," and began to read. It was the latest in a growing list of traditions for Christmas at the cabin. It was enjoyed by all and, given that it was read but once a year, held the attention of all in attendance. Julio and Amy especially enjoyed the softer side of their once surly lieutenant. By the time the story had ended, it was time to prepare for church.

They dressed in their holiday finest and took pictures in front of the tree. Ricky set up his laptop and connected it to the television set so that his grandparents, along with Mark, Anne, and Lydia, could watch the service via livestream. Lydia hadn't been to church in years, with the exception of the weekends she had spent with Mark and Anne. She had actually been looking forward to her first Midnight service, but she was much better off staying in. They would enjoy it from the warm comfort of the cabin, along with little Sharon Rose, who would be put to bed long before the service began.

When the others bounded out into the wintery night, those staying home were treated to cookies and cocoa as they settled in to await the start of Mass.

Will and Maggie were perched on the love seat, while Lydia sat between Mark and Anne on the sofa. The coffee table had been pulled close and Lydia's leg was propped up on a pillow. The trio was covered with a heavy quilt, pulled from the back of the couch.

By the time the service had reached its end, Lydia had fallen asleep, a result of both her exhaustion and her medications. Her head rested on Anne's shoulder, and Mark's arm was wrapped around them both. He looked over at his wife and found tears in her eyes. When she met his eyes, she smiled.

He slowly stood and carefully lifted the girl and made his way toward the back door, his wife following after him. They whispered their goodnights to Will and Maggie and headed to the guest house.

The family arrived home a half hour later and, after many hugs, kisses, and Merry Christmases, made their way to bed.

As they changed their clothes, Sharon and Andy wore matching smiles, a result of the joy at having all their loved ones gathered in one place at the most special time of the year. It was perfect. Children, grandchildren, her parents, and their friends, all together. Even without the holiday, that was worth celebrating. They climbed into the large bed, curled together, and gazed into the fire burning low in the hearth. They each knew the other was thinking the same. Joy. Contentment. They were happy. Andy was getting stronger every day. Their family was healthy and growing. Their children were good, thoroughly decent young people. They were sharing their lives with the dearest of friends and her folks who, despite their advanced age, were in splendid health. It just didn't get any better.

They slid down into the soft bedding and slipped into peaceful slumber.

The house was quiet, filled with warmth and love, as they slept in heavenly peace.

Christmas morning dawned. It was cold and clear, and the cabin lay under a fresh blanket of snow. As the house came to life, everyone stumbled into the kitchen, drawn by the aroma of coffee and cinnamon. It had been a couple of long, full days, and they were sleepy. Even the little boys were dragging, but when their eyes spotted the many gifts under the tree, they threw off the vestiges of sleep and became filled with the spirit and energy of Christmas morning.

Mark and Anne joined them, Lydia trying out her crutches. They joined them at the table and the plates were piled high with breakfast treats. Everyone wore the sweet, sleepy expressions Christmas morning was known for. It didn't matter if they were three or thirty-three. Everyone was a kid on Christmas day.

After breakfast, they dove into the presents. They ranged from the needed and useful to the items that drew the most interest-the toys. Toys for little boys as well as big boys. There were books and puzzles, games and coloring books. A new tent and the promise of a camping trip in the spring, new clothes, new cameras for Rick and Holly, and their baby on the way, and for Nicole and Jeff and their family. Purses and jewelry, DVD sets, a new set of tires for Drew's suburban. Something for everyone. Practical and sentimental alike.

Mark handed Anne an envelope, which she handed Lydia. The girl looked at them both before opening it and reading its contents. Her eyes scan the letter once, then twice, before looking up again.

"You mean it?" she asked. "You want me to stay?" She could hardly believe it. She never expected to lose her family, and she certainly never expected to get another.

"If you'd like. We've been approved to foster, and we'd like to file a petition to adopt, if you agree," Anne said hopefully.

Lydia looked from Anne to Mark, her lower lip tucked beneath her teeth. "I agree."

As the trio embraced one another, Sharon looked on with tears of her own. Her husband approached her from behind and wrapped his arms around her middle. "That's a Merry Christmas right there."

No one had to guess what was in the envelope. They could tell by looking at them it was something special. A family in the making.

New Year's Eve was a particularly cold day, but lovely none the less. Andy rose early to prepare breakfast for the large clan, then made his way out to his workshop to get things in order for the evening's celebration. There was a New Year's Eve party down in the village that would draw people from all across the region. Lydia, however, was still healing and likely more uncomfortable than she was letting on. Andy had been there, and those injuries took time. So, he had improvised a Plan B. If she wasn't up to going out, they would stay home with her. That girl was getting a taste of family after missing for too long. He would set up the large, brass heating lamps originally purchased for Rick and Holly's winter wedding. The starry white twinkle lights his wife was so fond of would sparkle from the treetops. He would set up a dinner buffet table in the yard and they would have their own fireworks display, worthy of the new year. When it came to the people he loved, Andy Flynn didn't do halfway.

He worked all morning and into the afternoon, pulling equipment and extra lawn furniture from the storage shed, and setting everything up on the lawn. He ran extra lights from the center of the porch's overhang out to the lake, fashioning a canopy of stars.

His daughter and her children bounded out of the backdoor into the yard, intent on enjoying the snow as much as possible before their inevitable return to the city. The boys dashed down closer the water. They were fascinated by the small patches of thin ice which formed on the water's surface.

Little Sharon Rose, stuffed into a tiny snow suit, looking like a miniature Micheline Man, stood beside the porch, gripping it to stay on her feet. She was trying so hard to walk and was almost there, but snow presented quite the challenge.

Andy put down his tools and met them by the steps. He picked up the little girl and snuggled her close.

"Hey, buh, baby. How's Pa's guh, girl?" he asked tickling her neck with his nose until she threw her head back in a fit of giggles.

"Pa!" she laughed.

"That's me," he smiled. "And who are you?"

The toddler laughed and told him, "I Sha-rothe."

"That's right. You're Sharon Rose, Queen of all the land!"

"Queen of the land, huh?" Nicole asked. "She's not spoiled at all," she teased.

"Hey, darlin. Yes, Queen of all the land. And. You," he said, placing a kiss to her forehead, "are queen of my heart." From anyone else, it would have sounded corny or saccharine. But from her dad, it was heartfelt.

"I'm pretty sure Sharon holds that title, Dad."

"Nah. More than enough room in this old heart. You've both got me wrapped around your little fingers. I do your bidding, both of you."

"I love you, too, Dad. Say, it's really cold out here. I'm going to need some coffee. Want some?"

"Love some. Decaf, though. I've already had the good stuff. Thanks."

As Nicole headed back into the house, she heard her father talking to her daughter. "Come on, Peanut. Let's check out the snow."

The ladies were at work in the kitchen, baking brownies for the evening's festivities. When Nicole joined them, she reached for a couple of mugs from the cabinet and filled them with steaming hot coffee.

"Your Dad still at it?" Sharon asked her, a hint of concern tinging her words.

"Yes. He was just putting the ladder back in the shop when I went out there. He had tools and looked ready for his next project, whatever that might be."

Sharon sighed to herself. He was doing too much, pushing himself too hard. The last thing he needed was a setback, but that man didn't know how to go small when it came to his family. I think I'll go take a peek, she thought to herself.

"I'll go see what they're up to. I want to see the kids in the snow anyway." She grabbed her heavy sweater from the back of the recliner and slipped into it as she made her way to the back door, Nicole right behind her with coffee in hand.

Andy and his granddaughter made their way across the back yard. He held her tiny hands and helped her to take tiny, tentative steps. The boys watched from across the lawn, cheering their sister on. Andy could feel himself stiffening in the cold. He'd been outside too long without a break to warm himself up. His left side, in particular, was becoming stiff and heavy. After only another step or two, his left leg simply gave weigh underneath him, and down he went, crumpling onto the snow. Sharon Rose balanced for only a minute, before falling forward and landing across her grandfather. The boys came running and dropped to their knees beside them.

Andy pulled himself to a sitting position, Sharon Rose crawling into his lap, giggling as she did.

"Grandpa, are you ok?" asked Sam.

Andy sat for minute, his mind turning over what had happened. It was just how he felt in the days after his stroke. It was what the doctor had warned him about. He'd done too much. His wife would be thrilled.

"I'm okay, buddy. Just tired." He looked at the little girl laughing against his belly. "How about you? Was that funny?" She just giggled in response.

"It's okay, Grandpa," said Seth. "Everybody needs a hand sometimes." He offered him his small hand, and his grandfather accepted it. Sam pulled his sister up and settled her on his hip so Andy could stand again. Together, they walked, slowly, to the picnic table and took a seat.

"Better now?" Sam asked, perching his little sister on top of the table facing him.

Andy nodded at his boys. "Grandpa's fine. Thanks for your help. You're right, Seth. Everybody needs help sometimes. Grownups sometimes have a hard time accepting it. Grandpa's body doesn't always do what he wants it to do."

"Like when you get tongue-twisted?" the boy asked.

"Yep, like that. My brain's relearning a few things is all. Like when you boys have to learn something new in school."

"You have to go to school?" Seth asked, horrified. His grandfather only chuckled.

"Not exactly, but I do have to relearn some things. That's not so bad. You're never too old to learn something new. Or learn something old all over again. Life's about learning things and growing a little, enough when you're all grown up."

From the porch, Sharon and Nicole watched the scene. Their instinct had been to run to Andy's side and help him to his feet, but as soon as they saw him able to do it himself, they hung back to watch, always mindful of his dignity. He was more at ease with his grandkids. He didn't take himself so seriously with them.

As he could sense her there, Andy looked up and his eyes found her own. When she raised her eyebrows in askance, he simply smiled and nodded in answer. Yes, he was fine. Yes, she was right. He was doing too much. Yes, he got it. He looked around. The yard looked great. It was ready. It was enough.

As the sun set, the lights came on, along with the heaters. The yard sprang to life. There was music playing. Food and drink were piled high on the table, which was centered inside the heaters. As always, the lawn was perfect. It was one of their favorite things about the property. It had been well kept when they bought it, and they had only improved upon it with the many flowers they had planted. There was a layer of fresh, powdery snow on the ground, making everything look clean and new. Fitting for a new year.

Gathered around the table were the eager faces of the dearest people in the world. Sharon and Andy sat side by side and looked around them. Their children were having children of their own. Her parents were a little older, a little slower, but a constant joy and source of wisdom to them all. Andy was getting better. Pushing his limits and learning from them. Their friends were happy and healthy. Lydia was getting a family of her own. It was a season of miracles.

Yes, New Years brought new ideas, fresh starts, and do overs. New blessings, new families, new wonders. It was a time to let go of the past-the hurt, the disappointment, the betrayal, and breathe new life into old. To begin again, forge ahead, safe in the arms of the ones you love, knowing they will be there to catch you, should you fall.