"Home Here With You" by DetroittiggerFan

Disclaimer: Don't own them and make no money from them—but I love them just the same! All rights for profits reserved to 20th Century Fox Television. Original story by R.A. Dick

AUTHOR's NOTES: Since my happy reunion with "The Ghost and Mrs. Muir" in November of 2018 via the original novel, "YouTube" videos (bless the kind souls who uploaded them!) and ESPECIALLY the fanfiction writers who have posted wonderful original "episodes" on this site and "Archive of Our Own", I have been..well..obsessed. It isn't necessarily a bad thing, but I felt the need to get my ideas for a GAMM story out of my head and into cyberspace. Now, an explanation, Edward Mulhare's beautiful baritone voice never sounded like Daniel Gregg was born and raised in Maine. My Daniel will have an Irish background until he anchors his life in a small community in Maine. So, with that said, let me just say there isn't really a plot for life—it just happens. Likewise, this story. I hope you enjoy.

Additional Note: This is a re-posting of my original story, now with some additional scenes included. I guess you could call it the Director's Cut?

SPECIAL THANKS TO: MARY for understanding my obsession & love for a 50+ year old television show and sharing her writing talents. She's graciously allowed me to borrow the community of Skeldale and some other random "fictional" facts from her previous works.

CHAPTER 1

Carolyn Muir sat at her office desk and stared at the blank page in her typewriter. She felt as blank inside as the white page staring back at her, a visual scream of "do something!" She sighed in despair and sank her head to her folded arms. It was of no use. She fought an internal battle within herself. She knew she had work to get done, bills to pay, children to care for, a life that needed living. She had to find a way out of her depression, her heartache, her constant gnawing pain of missing him. Every morning it was her first thought upon waking in the chilled dawn hours. Is he coming back? Is today the today? Will he return? Could he return? He was honest when he made his own heart-wrenching decision. He could not make her any promises other than he would try. It was a scene which kept playing in her mind like a repeating television re-run she hated, but one which she couldn't exorcise from her memory. After two years they had admitted their mutual love for one another. She knew long before of his steadfast devotion to the children he looked upon as his own. But the intensity of their attraction and pent-up passion for each other unsettled them both. She knew she had never experienced emotions for a man like this before, honesty was everything to Carolyn as far as relationships went. She admitted to herself she had never felt the same way towards Bobby Muir. Daniel's tender words and looks melted her heart. He caused her anger to erupt when he made outrageous demands but she also knew he respected her intelligence and talents. He valued her opinion and shared what he could of his life with her. She realized now Bobby had never cherished her like Daniel Gregg did. She had been infatuated with Bobby but she realized now she had been too young, too inexperienced with life. She had just been a pretty trophy to Bobby Muir. Daniel made her truly, spontaneously laugh and he was so very, very handsome…and vain, she knew. But she forgave him. Life had been so much better with him by her side—despite the misery of not being able to fully have a life together as they both wanted. As the kids wanted also. Now he had left her.

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Carolyn turned her head and peeked open one eye to see the desk calendar, another inanimate object mocking her pain. It was December, a little more than a week before Christmas. Where had the year gone? Seven months. He'd been gone now seven months. She had a glimmer now of what wives in "his" time must have felt when their men set sail. The woman stayed behind and got on with life and cared for the children and home but the ceaseless nagging worry about their husband's safety…and perhaps fidelity…were a constant in their minds. She stood up and went to the French doors of her bedroom, drawn to look out at the ship's wheel. It was one of the tangible connections she had of him and then the re-run started again.

Money had always been tight but a series of bad events exacerbated her financial problems, straining what little resources she had. The old station wagon was in constant need of repair, the roof in the attic started leaking badly after one fall rainstorm- the water threatening to ruin the Captain's precious sea charts. In desperation Carolyn had hired a couple of high school boys to move most of the heavy antique furniture out of harm's way, the second guest room becoming a storage unit. Then the steady writing assignments slowed to a trickle and worst still; a sizeable doctor and hospital bill when Candy needed her tonsils removed. Carolyn had no medical insurance to pay the bill but she arranged to make payments with the hospital. Martha generously forego her salary for several weeks so Carolyn could pay the doctor and the grandparents sent emergency checks—which Carolyn forced herself to cash despite her stubborn determination to weather the financial crisis by herself. Daniel admitted he had never felt as helpless in life or afterlife. He schemed and plotted, wracking his brain to come up with ways to generate funds to help pay the bills. Even worse for him was the crushing realization he couldn't hold and comfort the little girl who he thought of as his own child—or her despairing mother. He became determined to no longer accept his cruel fate of finding his soul mate a century after his passing. He steeled her for what was about to happen. He could no longer stand by helpless. It was his duty to take care of his family and he had to at least try. There may be a way, but his explanation was sketchy, incomplete. She didn't understand and she wasn't supposed to when he spoke about Akashic records, the Council of Elders and metaphysical possibilities and God's will. He couldn't promise her anything other than he loved them all and if he hadn't returned by year's end…he wanted her to get on with life, she should seek out a living partner who could provide for the family and if she couldn't or wouldn't find love again…he'd be waiting on the other side for her. She remembered his words, "A love that risks nothing is worth nothing." Then he was gone and the family living at Gull Cottage was heartbroken.

That was back in June, now here it was mid-December and the hits just kept on coming, she thought to herself ruefully. The bane of Captain Gregg's afterlife, Claymore Gregg, had put off raising the rent as a "personal favor" for her during the last year, but now emboldened with the knowledge his tormenter had left for parts unknown—he had put Gull Cottage on the market. He had assured her it was nothing personal—business was business. There was no way Carolyn could manage a down payment on the house—let alone arrange financing without benefit of a co-signer and she refused to put her parent's retirement nest egg at risk. She considered asking Ralph Muir for a loan but dismissed it, she would return to Philadelphia to live with her parents to re-group before submitting to Ralph's financial authority over her children's well-being. She scraped by with the bare essentials this past November. The kids, bless their hearts, understood even at this young age the strain their mother was under. They bravely came to her before their twin November birthdays

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to declare they didn't need or want any presents or parties. But the enterprising duo had conspired in secret to collect pop bottles all summer and fall, hoard their stash in the old carriage house out back and then turn them in at the grocery store to collect the deposit money. Carolyn's 35th birthday had been November 28, the mood in the house remain constant—glum. But Martha Grant baked and decorated a lovely cake and Candy and Jonathan handed their mother home-made birthday cards and a crinkled manila envelope with their life savings of $17.50. They decided their mother needed the cash more than another trinket from the Ben Franklin Five and Dime store in Skeldale. Carolyn wept alone that night as she laid in bed. She knew what the kids and Martha didn't know. A certified letter arrived in the mail for her earlier in the day. She was stunned to be notified Gull Cottage had been sold. They had to vacate the premises by February 1. She literally felt what was left of her world was crashing down around her.

Now Christmas was fast approaching. It had been her dear friend and devoted, loving housekeeper Martha Grant who had taken it upon herself to sit Candy and Jonathan down at the kitchen table the first week of December. "Now, I know the both of you are old enough to understand what your mom is dealing with this year." Martha pulled a chair out, sat and faced them across the table.

The brother and sister nodded their heads glumly as they nibbled carefully on the oatmeal cookies Martha had baked especially for them that afternoon. "I was so proud of you two scamps and the sacrifices you made just to give her a smile on her birthday. You are both growing up so fast right before my eyes." Martha smiled fondly at the pair. Candy and Jonathan exchanged glances but each knew what Martha was getting at with her friendly praise. They were silent as Martha explained gently, "I just feel the need to tell you both you shouldn't be surprised on Christmas morning if Santa Claus isn't as generous as he has been in the past."

"We know," Jonathan sounded sadly resigned to the financial reality the family was facing. "No Christmas this year." Candy merely shared a wistful sigh in agreement.

Martha was quick to reassure the children she had cared for over half of their young lives. "Now hold on—I didn't say any such thing. We'll have Christmas," she said adamantly. "We'll string popcorn garland and decorate a tree. You two can decorate the Christmas cookies I'll bake and we can share with our neighbors and go caroling on Christmas Eve." She hesitated and then reached across the table to grasped both of their hands. "I just want you to understand Christmas is more than just getting presents. Your mom is going through a hard time—and the last thing she needs is you two wishing and hoping for gifts she can't afford to buy right now. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Candy said softly. "But, Jonathan and me already talked about it. We aren't going to ask Santa for anything this year—except maybe for Captain to come home."

"Yeah," Jonathan's face lit up with a toothy grin. "That's all we really want for Christmas. I don't need any more dumb toys."

A wave of emotion swept over the housekeeper. "You two really are something," she arose from her seat and turned towards the sink, wiping her eyes with her apron as she did so. "Tell you what kids…as long as you know not to get your hopes up," she managed to suppress a sniff, "I guess it wouldn't hurt for you to write your letters to Santa this year. You never know, maybe he still has a miracle or two left in his sack."

Time passed and December seemed to skip two of its weeks. Carolyn Muir's parents had arrived two days before to find the situation worse than expected. Gull Cottage was devoid of any Christmas cheer; the children spoke in hushed tones, seemingly afraid to be happy about Christmas vacation for fear of upsetting their mother. There were no holiday decorations in sight and Carolyn preferred to be sequestered in her bedroom, having "work to do" her excuse for locking herself away. The truth was she didn't have the energy to muster false feelings. Martha knew Carolyn's physical health was beginning to suffer. The young widow battled not only depression but had frequent bouts of insomnia. Carolyn Muir had never had a hearty appetite but she barely picked at her food these days, she had obviously lost weight and now she was experiencing endless stress headaches. Finally, if things weren't bad enough, the old station wagon was again parked at the mechanic's shop. Its last trip was to the commuter airport in Skeldale to pick up Brad and Emily Williams. The car made it back to the outskirts of Schooner Bay and then chugged, coughed, sputtered, belched some black smoke from its exhaust pipe and died. Carolyn hiked the quarter mile into the village to summon Muley Peterson's tow truck. Mr. Peterson was nice enough to have his employee Duane take the family and her parents' luggage back to Gull Cottage in Muley's own sedan. Mr. Williams paid for the tow, no need to submit it to her auto insurance company and have her rates go up, he reasoned. "Good thing you folks got in when you did," Duane made a stab at polite conversation. "Big winter storm takin' aim at us. Nor'easter getting one last whack at us before the year's over. 'posed to get in this afternoon." In her mind Carolyn was trying to take a mental inventory of pantry supplies left in the house. No money, no car, now no food in the house? But it always came back to the most important reality in her life. No Daniel.

The blizzard hit as dusk fell. It snowed for the next two days.