Author's Note

As with Part One, you will recognize scenes from a GAMM TV show episode. In this case, I'll be using the 'Strictly Relative' episode, written by Albert E. Lewin. While the premise of the story is similar, you will notice some definite differences.

XXXXXXX

At four o'clock Friday afternoon, after the always disagreeable discussion with her uncle whenever she needed to take time away from the office, Carolyn found herself at the train station. Claymore had finally acquiesced to let her leave early when Sunday dinner was offered as an enticement.

While waiting, she couldn't help wishing she were there to welcome Daniel home. His return would have been something to look forward to. Awaiting the arrival of her in-laws, she could feel herself tensing up as she braced for whatever was to come.

The train pulled in fifteen minutes late and, as the Muir's stepped onto the platform, she could tell by the scowl on his face that Ralph Muir was not happy. As usual, Marjorie was trying to smooth his ruffled feathers but having little success.

Carolyn straightened her shoulders, and plastered a smile on her face, as she went to meet her late husband's parents, graciously hugging each as she greeted them.

"It's good to see you. Welcome to Schooner Bay!"

Accepting her hug stiffly, Ralph started in.

"Where are my grandchildren?"

"Yes, where are the children?" Marjorie asked more politely.

"Candy and Jonathan wanted to come, but there's not enough room in the cart for all of us. They walked home after school and are waiting for us there."

"Cart? You don't have a carriage?" Ralph asked.

"No. A jaunting cart came with the house we're renting. It's easy to handle and just the right size for the four of us."

"What about our luggage?"

"I've made arrangements to have it brought up to the house," Carolyn explained. "Where is it?"

"A cart! Humph!" was her father-in-law's response.

"The porter is coming with our bags now," Marjorie replied, pointing down the platform.

Excusing herself, Carolyn walked toward the man, whom she knew from church.

"Afternoon, Mrs. Muir," he said.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Brooker. It's nice to see you," she replied.

"I see you got company come to visit."

"Yes, my in-laws from Philadelphia," she smiled. "Mr. Brooker, I've made arrangements for Quint to bring Mr. and Mrs. Muir's luggage up to Gull Cottage. Would you keep an eye on it for us until he's able to get here? He shouldn't be too long."

"Of course, ma'am. I'm happy to."

"Thank you," she said, slipping him a tip.

"Mrs. Muir, that really ain't necessary," he said, trying to give it back.

"Please, accept it with my gratitude," she smiled, refusing to take it.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

He watched as she walked back to the older couple.

'That Mrs. Muir is one fine lady, and nice too. That's a combination you don't see often enough. Captain Gregg sure is one lucky fella.'

Carolyn returned to Ralph and Marjorie and led them out of the station to the jaunting cart. Seeing it, the look on Ralph's face didn't hide his feelings about their transportation.

"You expect us to get into that?"

"Oh, Ralph. It's a perfectly fine cart," Marjorie scolded him.

"Is it safe?"

"It's nearly brand new and is perfectly safe."

"Are you sure you can drive it?"

"Yes, I'm quite sure," Carolyn responded, smiling as she opened the door for them. "Bonhomme is a sweetheart, aren't you boy?"

The horse looked back at her and appeared to nod his head. Ralph didn't look convinced as he assisted his wife and daughter-in-law into the cart.

Once they were settled, Carolyn started toward home fielding a stream of questions, from her father-in-law, that were more than keeping her on her toes. To herself, she wondered if that was where Jonathan got it from.

"It's not a very big town is it?"

"No, it's not, but it's just the right size for us. The children and I love it here."

"What about the schools?"

"There's only one school, but the teachers are excellent. Both Candy and Jonathan are doing very well."

"Of course, they are! They're my grandchildren," Ralph bragged, practically puffing out his chest. "I'm sure they were leaps and bounds ahead of the local children."

"As a matter of fact, they weren't. Schooner Bay Elementary was almost a half year ahead of their school in Philadelphia. They both had to work hard, the first few months, to catch up."

Not having a reply to that piece of information, Ralph kept his mouth shut, but exchanged a look with his wife. They rode along in silence and were barely out of town when he started up again, complaining about the family living so far out.

"It's awfully far for the children to walk to and from school, isn't it? What do they do if it's raining? What if it snows? It must be a lot of trouble getting to town for shopping."

Ralph went on and on until even he ran out of criticisms and questions.

Carolyn answered each inquiry or comment with a positive response, and a smile on her face. When they turned onto the private road leading to the house, Marjorie softened the mood by commenting on the breathtaking view of the bay and how lovely the area was. The women chatted about being so near the water, and the fun the children were having playing on the beach. Her father-in-law had nothing to contribute and stayed quiet for the remainder of the ride.

When they pulled up in front of the house, Ralph was surprised by its size. He'd expected them to be living in a hovel, and it was his hope their diminished living conditions would help pave the way for what he had planned. As he took in Gull Cottage, he couldn't help but think, 'Carolyn certainly can't afford a house this size on the widow's pension I pay her. Her uncle must be a very generous man.'

Candy and Jonathan were waiting on the porch steps and came down to greet their mom and grandparents. Scruffy led the way, barking non-stop at the arrival of the strangers. As the Muirs stepped out of the cart, Carolyn shushed the dog, who stopped immediately but jumped up on the wall to keep an eye on the new people.

Coming through the gate, the children respectfully greeted their grandparents with a smile but waited for them to make the first move before showing any affection. Their grandfather's attention went immediately to Jonathan, but it was their grandmother who spoke first.

"Look how much you've both grown?" she commented.

"Johnny, you're going to be tall just like your father," Ralph added.

"Yes, sir."

"Let's go in the house and you can tell us about your new school, your friends, and your life here," Marjorie suggested, reaching for Candy's hand.

"Grandmother, we have to put the cart away and take care of Bonhomme first, but we'll be in as soon as we finish," her granddaughter explained.

"Candace, I'm sure that can wait until you've spent a little time with us; can't it?" Ralph replied in a condescending tone.

Candy wasn't sure how to respond. She didn't want to be rude to her grandfather, but she knew what was expected of her. She was saved from having to make the choice when her brother spoke up.

"Oh, no, Grandfather, it can't. Bonhomme is our responsibility; we take care of him every night when Mom gets home from work," Jonathan explained, stepping in to help his sister with what was beginning to feel like an uncomfortable situation. "We brush him, make sure he has fresh food and water, and put him up for the night."

"It doesn't take long, but it has to be done. He counts on us," Candy added.

"Who counts on you?"

"Bonhomme, of course."

"What kind of name is that for a horse?" Ralph mumbled, not expecting a reply.

"He's named after the ship John Paul Jones captained during the War for Independence," Jonathan explained. "It was called the Bonhomme Richard."

"It was the ship he was on when he said, 'I have not yet begun to fight," Candy reminded her grandfather.

"That's right," he replied, as if he'd really remembered.

"Would you like to help us, Grandfather?" Jonathan asked.

"Ah . . . no . . . I don't think so, Johnny. I . . . I . . . I'm not really dressed to work with animals."

"Oh, okay. We'll come inside as soon as we finish our chores. Maybe you can help us next time, Grandfather," Candy offered as she took the horse's reins to walk him to the barn. She and Jonathan went around the corner, walking side by side, followed by Bonhomme. Scruffy ran along side them, staying well away from the horse's hooves.

The children's grandparents looked at each other and then turned to their daughter-in-law, who was extremely proud of both of her children.

"Carolyn, I can't believe you have them taking care of livestock," Ralph commented.

"Candace especially. She far too delicate to be doing such physical work," Marjorie added.

Hearing that remark, Carolyn was reminded that the Muirs never really took the time to get to know her children.

"It's one of their chores and is teaching them responsibility," she responded reasonably.

"Isn't there someone else that could do that kind of work."

"No. There's only the children, myself, and Martha."

"Couldn't she do it?" her father-in-law asked.

"I have no doubt Martha could do it, but she has plenty of other things to do. We already count on her for so much," Carolyn said decisively. "I would do it myself before I would put more work on her. Besides, Candy and Jonathan are learning how to be responsible for another living creature, and I think that is very important."

"Carolyn, I don't like this. You've got my grandchildren doing the work of farm hands."

"Ralph, the children are members of this family and are learning what it takes to run a house efficiently. It's 'all hands on deck' here at Gull Cottage. Everyone has their assigned duties and is expected to carry them out."

"You make it sound like it's a boat."

"It's certainly not a boat!" she responded quickly, knowing what Daniel would say about his house being referred to in such a way. "Although, it could be compared to a ship, but that's not right either. Gull Cottage is our home, and it runs best when everyone lends a hand," Carolyn said, leading them up the house.

Walking purposefully through the front door, Ralph went through the foyer and paused momentarily at the living room door before marching in.

"You like living in this dusty old barn?" he barked.

"Really, Ralph. It isn't dusty, and it isn't an old barn," Marjorie scolded him. "And if it were, it's not your place to say such a thing." Turning toward her daughter-in-law, she added, "I think it's charming, Carolyn."

"That's the whole problem with this country; if you can't say something nice, don't say it," he blustered.

The Muir women shared an indulgent smile and let him continue his rant.

"I say it's an old barn, and it's dusty," he added, wiping his hand over the mantle to prove his point. Looking at his palm, and not finding a speck of dust, he tried to save face by saying, "Well . . . it's old."

Carolyn and Marjorie shared another glance. Ralph turned toward Daniel's portrait and stared at it for several moments.

"Who's he?" he asked gruffly.

"That's Captain Gregg. He designed and built this house himself . . . just before the war. So, you see, Gull Cottage isn't old at all."

"Mmm. He looks like a good no nonsense man," he said, ignoring her rebuff of his claim.

Carolyn smiled at her father-in-law's assessment of Daniel.

"He always seems that way to me," she replied, holding back a smile.

Martha entered the room, carrying a tray of refreshments.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Muir. Welcome to Gull Cottage."

Marjorie smiled and nodded.

Ralph didn't bother to acknowledge her or her greeting.

Martha glanced at Carolyn and rolled her eyes.

"I thought you might like some coffee and a small snack to hold you until supper is ready," she said, placing the tray on the coffee table.

"Thank you, Martha. Marjorie, Ralph, please, make yourselves comfortable," Carolyn said, sitting on the couch to serve them.

They spent the next twenty minutes talking. The Muirs, while they had questions about the children, didn't ask anything about Carolyn's life. They talked mostly about people and events back in Philadelphia in an effort to remind her of everything she was missing.

After a while, the conversation was beginning to feel stilted, but an awkward silence was avoided when Candy and Jonathan came in from the barn.

"There's my grandchildren. Now, come give your grandparents a proper greeting," Ralph said opening his arms.

Jonathan went to him, and Candy ran to her grandmother. After a quick hug, the children traded places and ran to their other grandparent. Ralph, acting out of character, picked up his granddaughter, and they hugged cheek to cheek.

"Oh, Grandfather; how come you have such a scratchy face?" Candy asked.

"Well, that's because I'm a man, and men have scratchy faces," he said, hugging her closer to look at Carolyn. "No men around here?"

"Ralph, look at Jonathan," Marjorie said wistfully.

He looked over at his grandson and absently put Candy down. She stood off to the side, watching her grandfather's pattern of behavior toward her continue as it always had.

"Just like our Bobby," he said, opening his arms to Jonathan for another hug. Giving the boy his undivided attention again, he remarked, "He's the spitting image."

Candy, knowing her time with her grandfather was over, shrugged her shoulders and walked over to her mother.

"Mom, can I get something to eat?

"Me too?" Jonathan asked, not wanting to miss out.

"Sure! I know Martha has a snack for you in the kitchen."

The children headed out of the room with the dog following behind.

"See you later, tiger," Ralph called to his grandson.

Jonathan stopped and turned back.

"His name's Scruffy!"

"I meant you, boy."

"Oh, sure! See you later, Grandfather."

As the children left the room, Ralph walked toward the woman he'd always thought of as his annoyingly independent daughter-in-law.

"I don't like that, Carolyn; bringing up a boy like Jonathan in a house full of females isn't good. That boy needs masculine company."

"Oh, I've been very aware of that," she said in her own defense. "But Jonathan gets lots of masculine company around here."

"With whom?"

She hesitated slightly.

"Well, the school, and, of course, there's my uncle," she said, immediately regretting the invitation she'd extended to Claymore for Sunday dinner. "And, ah, there's lots of masculine activities around here to keep him busy. You'll see."

"Oh, I intend to," he said and turned toward Marjorie and nodded.

XXXXX

The children sat quietly at the kitchen table, each eating an apple, while Martha was busy at the stove. Jonathan took two bites of his and, with his tongue, moved the pieces to the inside of both his cheeks. Looking over to his sister, his eyes met hers and he made a silly face. Candy took one look at him and almost spit out the bite she had just taken.

"Jonathan, what are you doing?! You look like a chipmunk," she laughed.

He mumbled something that, with a mouth full of apple, might have been, 'Do you think so?' then he brought his hands up to his mouth, as if he were eating something. He started making a clicking noise, so, not only did he look like a chipmunk, he sounded like one too. His antics caused Candy to laugh harder.

Smiling, he finished chewing and then became serious as he looked at her.

"Candy, I'm sorry about what happened in there with Grandfather."

"Oh, it's not your fault. He's always been like that; you always come first with him. I just thought it might have changed since we left Philadelphia, but I guess not," she said with a sigh. "You must really look like Father did when he was little."

"I wish I didn't. I wish I looked like Captain Gregg."

"Jonathan, you can't look like the captain. He's not your father."

"I know, but I wish he was our father."

"Yeah, me too," she agreed, and then brightened. "But you know what?"

"What?" he asked unenthusiastically.

"When you grow up, you might be able to grow a beard. Father didn't have one, and Grandfather doesn't have one; he just has a scratchy face . . . not a soft beard like the captain. You could grow one, and I'll bet you would look like him. You both have blue eyes!"

"Yeah, we do!" he smiled. "Do you really think I could look like him?"

"Sure! You've already started to act like him."

"Really?!"

"Yeah! You walk like the captain does, you've started to tug on your ear when you're thinking, and you 'blast' around here just like he does."

"I got in trouble for that at school this week. I'm just waiting for Mom to find out."

"Well, maybe you should save 'blasting' for when you're not at school, or around Mom, or . . ." she motioned her head toward the stove and mouthed 'Martha.'

He nodded his agreement and took a small bite of his apple.

"Do you really think I might look like the captain, one day, if I grow a beard?" he asked.

"Well, the only thing that would be different is your hair; it's blond and you don't have the curls he does."

"Yeah!"

They went back to eating their apples, content in each other's company, and ignoring the resurfacing of their grandfather's blatant favoritism.

Martha had been busy cooking but not so busy she missed the children's conversation. Candy was right. From the moment Jonathan had been born, Ralph Muir looked at him as the heir apparent. Now that his son was gone, the boy was probably even more important to him, but he certainly had an odd way of showing it.

When the family lived in Philadelphia, he didn't pay much attention to either child, but, when he did, it was his grandson he showed the most interest in. She'd even go so far to say, he only tolerated his granddaughter . . . much the same way he'd barely tolerated his daughter-in-law. He obviously didn't care for women who showed even the slightest hint of independence.

"What a fool that man is," she thought to herself. "His lying, cheating, worthless son somehow sired two of the nicest children I've ever had the pleasure of caring for . . . children who, along with their mother, are like family to me . . . and he treats them as property to be used to his advantage."

She agreed with Carolyn that Ralph Muir didn't come here just for a visit; he was here for something, and she wondered what it was. She was sure nothing he could say or do would make the young widow walk away from the new life she and the children had here at Gull Cottage with Daniel Gregg. She only hoped the elder Muirs would get on with what they came here for and leave, before they undid all work Carolyn and the captain had done to give both children more confidence.

XXXXX

After their snack, Candy and Jonathan were sent upstairs to do their homework. Their mom wanted them to get it out of the way to avoid a last-minute rush on Sunday night. So, with only a minimum of complaining, they did as they were told.

Carolyn and her in-laws were finishing their coffee when the Muir's luggage arrived from the train station. Martha greeted Quint at the door and showed him the way to the guest room. When he returned to the first floor, after making several trips, he was met by the lady of the house.

"Quint, thank you for your help today. We really appreciate you taking time out of your busy day to help us," she said, handing him a generous tip.

"Mrs. Muir, I'm happy to help anytime. This ain't necessary."

"Please take it. I don't know how we'd have gotten the luggage up here without you."

"I guess . . . if you insist. Thank you, ma'am."

Carolyn watched him climb onto his wagon and drive away, and then returned to her guests in the living room.

"Would you like a tour of the house? We can start down here and finish in the guest room," she suggested. "Now that your bags have arrived, I thought you might like to freshen up after that long train ride."

"That would be wonderful. We'd love to see the house, and I certainly would like to freshen up," Marjorie replied as she stood. "Will we be dressing for dinner?"

"No, things are more casual up here," Carolyn replied, receiving an indulgent smile from her mother-in-law, and a look from Ralph indicating relief but, at the same time, disapproval.

Despite his attitude about the family's move to Maine, and his derogatory comment about the house earlier, her father-in-law was curious to see the inside of the 'old barn.' He was still trying to figure out how his daughter-in-law could afford to live in such a fine house. It wasn't huge, but it was solid and well built, and the craftsmanship he'd seen so far was impressive – as good as the work that went into his own house.

Carolyn took them first to the alcove.

"What's that?" Ralph asked, pointing to an odd-looking piece of furniture.

"It's a chart rack. It keeps the maps from rolling up."

"Umm," he replied. "What's in there now? It doesn't look like a map."

"That's a picture Candy drew. We're using the rack to take the curl out of the paper, so it can be framed."

"Oh, that's lovely," Marjorie remarked, examining it. "Look Ralph, it's a drawing of the house. And she has Jonathan and herself at the window and Carolyn standing on the top balcony . . . What do they call those things?" she asked looking up.

"It's a widow's walk."

"A frightful name, don't you think, but imagine the view from up there," she commented. "Look, Candace has even included the dog. She's put the whole family in her drawing."

Carolyn's eyes got wide, and she quickly scanned it. Fortunately, the design of the chart rack had accomplished what Daniel's hand had, when he'd first looked at his gift. The seaman in the drawing was not visible, nor was Martha looking out the kitchen window.

Her father-in-law glanced at it briefly but made no comment.

From there, Carolyn took them down the hall to the dining room. Her mother-in-law loved the room – the mantle, the detail of the woodwork throughout, the floors, and the furnishings.

Though he didn't say anything, Ralph was impressed, which only made him more curious.

They went quickly through the kitchen, so as not to be in Martha's way, but the Muirs couldn't help noticing how up to date it was. It had all the modern conveniences of their own kitchen, but the delicious aromas filling the house were far superior to anything their own cook prepared.

Little was said as they made their way to the second floor. Ralph and Marjorie just seemed to be taking it all in, and Carolyn was relieved not to have to make small talk.

They stopped first at the nursery, briefly interrupting Candy and Jonathan who were talking as they worked on their studies.

"What are you working on, Johnny?" Ralph asked.

"I'm doing my arithmetic homework, Grandfather."

"Do you need any help? I'm an old hand with figures."

"No, thank you, sir. I've got it. If I get stuck, Candy can help me."

"Oh, I see," Ralph replied, obviously put out.

"What are you working on, dear?" her grandmother asked her granddaughter.

"I'm writing an essay."

"Oh? What's it about?"

"It's called 'Life at My House.' I'm writing about the chores we do, and the games we play."

"That sounds interesting. I'd love to read it when you're finished."

"It's not due for another week, Grandmother, but if you're still here when I'm done, you can read it."

"I'll keep my fingers crossed," Marjorie replied, smiling at the young girl. "We'll let you both get back to work. See you at dinner."

The children nodded and turned their attention to their assignments.

Leaving the nursery, Carolyn showed them the washroom, pointed out the door to the attic, and then led them to the master cabin.

"Oh, my! This is quite something, isn't it?" Marjorie commented as she looked around. "It's rather 'masculine' though, don't you think?"

"Well, yes, it is, but we are only renting; I didn't want to change anything."

"Surely, your landlord wouldn't mind if you stored a few of his things in the attic?" she said looking disapprovingly at the masthead hanging over the couch.

"I'm sure he wouldn't, but I choose to leave things as they are."

"How long will this 'captain' be gone? You've lived here since when . . . September? What happens when he returns?" Ralph asked.

"We moved up here in November, and Captain Gregg stays at the Inn when he's in port."

"What will you do when he returns and wants his house back?"

"He returned to Schooner Bay a week or so ago but will only be in port a short time before he sets sail again. As things stand now, I will be renting the house until he returns in December. We have agreed to review the arrangements then."

"I suppose you'll return to your uncle's when the captain is ready to move back into his house," Marjorie commented – still looking around the room.

Carolyn didn't respond; she just smiled.

"Let me show you to the guest room. I think you'll find it quite comfortable," she said, leading them out of the master cabin and across the hall.

Martha had cleaned the guest room within an inch of its life that morning, and it was absolutely perfect. Not a thing was out of place and not a speck of dust was to be found. Ralph looked around taking it in.

"I suppose this will have to do."

"Oh, Ralph. It's a lovely room," Marjorie replied. "Carolyn it's perfect; we'll be fine in here."

She smiled and nodded.

"If there's anything you need, please let us know."

"Thank you, dear."

Carolyn left the room, closing the door behind her. In her heart, she knew this was going to be a long visit – even if her in-laws only stayed a few days.

XXXXX

In the kitchen, Martha had things well in hand and was setting the table when Mrs. Muir entered the room. Looking at the place settings, Carolyn noticed there were only five.

"Martha, you're one short."

"No, there's five."

"But there should be six."

"Mrs. Muir, I think while your in-laws are here, I should just prepare the meal, serve the food, and clean up."

"No. You are a part of this family. You will be sitting down to dinner with us, and the children and I will assist with the cleanup, like we do every night."

"Mr. and Mrs. Muir won't like me sitting at the table with them anymore than Mr. Thompson did."

"Martha, they are visiting us in our house. If they don't like how we do things, they can go stay at the Inn," Carolyn said firmly.

"I'm telling you, it will be much more pleasant, for all of us, if I just play the role of cook and housekeeper while they're here."

"I won't allow that. You are a member of this family and will be treated as such. Remember what Reverend Farley said in church Sunday, and the children's response to it?" she asked rhetorically. "We may not share a name, but we love each other, and that makes us family. You are more a member of this family than those the children and I share a name with."

"Thank you, Mrs. Muir, but . . ."

"No buts. We will treat them with the respect they're entitled to as the children's grandparents, but I will not tolerate disrespect from them toward anyone in this house," she said firmly. "I just hope we find out what they want sooner than later, so they can be on their way back to Philadelphia."

XXXXX

Marjorie sat at the dressing table, looking at herself in the mirror but couldn't help following her husband pacing behind her. Turning around, she looked up at him.

"Ralph, you didn't have much to say while we were touring the house. What's on your mind?"

He stopped and looked at her.

"Despite what I said when we arrived, this is a nice house," he admitted. "How can Carolyn afford to pay rent on something this size on the pension I send her?"

"Well, she does earn her own money working for her uncle."

"He must be very generous then. She rents this place, pays for that cook and housekeeper, and provides everything else for the family. That would take quite a bit of money."

Marjorie looked down at her hands in her lap.

"Maybe the Williams' send her money every month to help them out," she said, while thinking this move could have been avoided if Ralph hadn't tried to be so manipulative.

"I guess that could be it, but there's got to be more to it. I think there's something we're missing."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, but I intend to find out."