A half hour before dinner, Carolyn went upstairs to check on the children. Ralph had never made a secret of his preference toward Jonathan, and she was worried about Candy. Ready with the excuse of seeing how they were coming with their homework, she knocked on the nursery door.

"Come in."

Jonathan had just finished his reading assignment, and Candy, with no other schoolwork to do, was re-reading what she'd written for her essay so far.

"How's it going?" she asked closing the door behind her.

Both children smiled at their mom; relieved she was alone.

"I've finished all my homework and made a good start on my essay," Candy told her.

"And I'm done with my arithmetic and reading, so I'm finished too," Jonathan added.

"Good. Is there anything you want me to look over?"

"No. Candy checked my answers, and the rest was just reading."

"I don't have anything right now, but can you look over my essay once I'm finished?"

"Of course; just let me know when."

"Okay. Thanks. Where are Grandmother and Grandfather?" her daughter asked.

"They're in their room freshening up."

The young girl only nodded.

"Is everything all right, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Do you want to talk?"

"Maybe later; not right now."

Carolyn looked at her daughter with concern, having no doubt of what was bothering her.

"How long are they going to be here?" Jonathan asked.

"They haven't said, but with you both in school, and me at work, Monday, I can't imagine they'll stay more than a few days. It's an awfully long trip for only two or three days, though."

Both children nodded. Unspoken, by all three, was that they hoped the visit wasn't any longer than that.

XXXXX

When the Muirs came downstairs, they found the family in the living room. The children were playing checkers, and Carolyn was sitting in the chair by the fireplace mending a pair of Jonathan's trousers.

"Is your homework finished?" Ralph asked, looking at his grandchildren as he and Marjorie sat on the couch.

"Yes, sir," they answered together.

"Good! Now we won't have to worry about that interfering with our visit," he said. "Candace, you're going to spend tomorrow with your grandmother; a real 'girl-type' day," he informed her.

Candy shared a smile with her grandmother.

"And Jonathan, you and I are going to spend a real 'boy-type' day. How's that?"

"Great!" Candy answered.

"What are we going to do, Grandfather?" Jonathan asked.

"Well, any real 'boy' thing you'd like," he replied. "And I'm doing it with you."

"Honest?" his grandson asked with wonder.

"You name it," Ralph answered, pleased with the boy's response.

"Sewing."

"What?" he asked, glancing at Marjorie.

"Sewing. You can help me with my sewing."

His grandfather raised an eyebrow and nodded absently, perplexed by his choice.

"Your sewing," he finally responded, giving the boy a look that didn't hide his discomfort.

Carolyn bit back a smile knowing neither Ralph nor Marjorie would have any idea why her son made the choice he did.

Before anyone could say anything else, Martha came in and announced supper was ready.

Candy and Jonathan ran into the kitchen, while their grandparents appeared to be waiting to be led into the dining room.

"This way," Carolyn said, directing them to follow the children.

Ralph and Marjorie looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders, as if to say, 'what can you expect.'

In the kitchen, Candy and Jonathan had already taken their seats, and Carolyn showed her guests to theirs. The lady of the house claimed her place at the head of the table. Symbolically, she didn't want her father-in-law to have any doubt that she was the head of this family.

The Muirs took their seats, and Ralph's annoyance at his placement was unmistakable. While everyone got settled, Martha put the last serving dish on the table.

"Oh, are you expecting someone else?" Marjorie asked, noticing the extra place setting.

"No, that's Martha's seat," Carolyn explained, putting her napkin in her lap.

Again, her in-laws exchanged a look, as did the younger Mrs. Muir and her friend, but for completely different reasons.

Taking her place, Martha put her napkin in her lap and clasped her hands together, as did Carolyn and the children. Ralph, not paying any attention to anything except the meat in front of him, began to reach for the platter when he was interrupted by Jonathan.

"Grandfather, do you want to say the blessing?"

Caught off guard, Ralph rested his hands on each side of his plate.

"Johnny, why don't you say it this evening?"

"Okay!"

He fell back on the prayer he'd used when Mr. Thompson had dinner with them, with a minor change.

"Dear God, we thank you for this food, the hands that prepared it, and the safe travel of our family. Amen."

His mother smiled at him and winked. He'd left out the usual sentence asking God to keep the captain safe in his travels. Jonathan figured He would know the traveler he was praying for.

The food was passed around as everyone served themselves. Conversation was nonexistent for several moments until the children took their first bites.

"Martha, this is so good," Candy said, aware of the tension in the room, and wanting to let her know how much she was appreciated.

Jonathan had made a gravy lake in his potatoes with the ladle and took the first bite of his favorite food combination.

"Yeah! You make the best gravy," he smiled as a drip escaped the corner of his mouth, confirming his statement.

Martha smiled at them both as she thanked them. She knew what they were trying to do and loved them all the more for it.

Carolyn expressed her compliments as well and, meeting her friend's eyes across the table, gave her an apologetic look. Ralph and Marjorie paid no attention to what was going on around them, they were focusing on the food in front of them.

It only took a few bites to bring their silence to an end.

"This chicken is delicious," Marjorie said, praising the cook.

"Thank you, Mrs. Muir. I'm glad you like it," she replied.

"Yes, it's excellent, and the boy's right; you do make the best gravy," Ralph added, practically smacking his lips.

From there, the conversation between the adults limped along. The children tried to help lighten the atmosphere by asking their grandparents about their trip.

Candy started by politely asking about it, and then Jonathan proceeded to give his grandfather a run for his money with a stream of questions about the train, the different stops they made, and what his favorite part of the trip was. When he'd exhausted his supply of questions, he began telling him about the family's adventures on their own trip to Schooner Bay.

The women at the table tried to hide their shared humor as Ralph struggled to keep up with the inquiries.

Finally, tired of dealing with the never-ending barrage of questions while he was trying to eat, the endless chatter from his grandson, and his perceived insult of having to share his dinner with a servant, Ralph's frustration won out, and he snapped.

"Jonathan! It's time to stop asking so many questions and finish eating before your food gets cold," he told him sharply.

That was enough to keep both children quiet for the rest of the meal. Carolyn was not at all pleased with her father-in-law's show of pique but bit her tongue. Now was not the time to set Ralph Muir straight. She was going to have wait for a more appropriate time. Preferably, when Candy and Jonathan weren't nearby.

Martha ate her meal quietly, wishing she were anywhere else. It seemed, the only remarks the Muirs could make to her were related to her cooking. The atmosphere of this meal was even more difficult than the one the previous week, with Mr. Thompson, and she'd thought that had been bad enough. When the time was right, she was going to try to convince Mrs. Muir to let her serve the family in the dining room. She would be more than happy to eat alone, in the kitchen, for the remainder of the Muir's visit.

Candy and Jonathan hurried through their meal and asked to be excused, without a making a peep about dessert. Carolyn, seeing no need in making them suffer any longer, agreed but reminded them they would be needed to help with the cleanup.

"Yes, ma'am," they said as they took their plates to the sink and gratefully slipped out of the kitchen.

The adults quietly finished their meal. Ralph, either unaware of the awkwardness he was responsible for, or not caring, wiped his mouth with his napkin and turned to Martha.

"Elizabeth, this is the best chicken I've ever had."

That was it; Carolyn had had enough, and, with the children out of earshot, she didn't hold back.

"Ralph, while I'm sure Martha appreciates you complimenting her cooking, I think it would mean more to her if you would get her name right," she told him, trying to keep her temper in check. "Her name is not Elizabeth, it is Martha, and, not only is she our very good friend, she is an important member of our family. I expect you to treat her with the respect she's entitled to."

"Mrs. Muir . . ." Martha shook her head to let her know it wasn't necessary.

"Now, Carolyn, how am I supposed to know what her name is?" Ralph asked, gesturing to the servant to his right and receiving a kick under the table from his wife.

"It's not as if she's new to the family!" Carolyn's voice rose in disbelief. "Martha has been with us since before Jonathan was born, and her name is not a family secret. Since you arrived, the children and I have probably spoken her name in front of you twenty times!"

"Well, I . . ."

"Ralph, dear," Marjorie said, putting her hand over his to stop the expected bluster. "Carolyn's right." Turning to the older woman she continued. "Martha, please accept our apologies. Of course, you're a valuable member of the family and always have been. We're glad Carolyn has you to help her, since she's not able to take care of things herself. It can't be easy, driving to town, working all day, then returning home to maintain this house and property; not to mention taking care of the children. I have no doubt, she couldn't do it without you."

Neither Carolyn, nor Martha replied. They both felt the apology was insincere, and that a slight had been aimed at both of them.

"Yes, Elizab . . . Martha . . . I apologize for not remembering your name."

"Of course, I accept your apology . . . Mr. Johnson," she replied smiling.

A look of confusion came over Ralph, and he was about to correct her when Marjorie kicked him again and started to chuckle. With a prompt from her, he joined in.

"Mr. Johnson . . . yes . . . that's very funny," he said dryly, obviously not getting it at all.

"Now that we have the names straight, why don't you join the children in the living room? I'll serve the coffee and dessert in there."

"Thank you, Martha. That will be perfect," Carolyn replied, standing and taking her own dishes over to the sink.

The Muirs, unsure what to do, started to do the same, but the housekeeper shooed them out of the kitchen.

"Don't you worry about those; I'll finish clearing the table."

As they left the room, Carolyn started to help but was sent on her way too.

"Martha, I'm sorry about this. We'll talk later."

"Go on now. We'll get through it," she said, motioning toward the door. "But Mrs. Muir . . ."

Carolyn turned to face her.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Carolyn wrapped her arms around her friend in a heartfelt hug.

"Well, Marjorie got one thing right . . . although, I not sure she meant it as a compliment," she smiled, her eyes glistening. "I couldn't do any of this without you."

They exchanged smiles; each woman appreciating the love and friendship they shared.

XXXXX

After everyone had finished their dessert, Candy and Jonathan left the room to help Martha clean the kitchen. Carolyn already knew what her in-law's opinion of their grandchildren being on galley duty would be and didn't have to wait long to hear about it.

"Carolyn, you pay good money for Elizab . . ."

Her eyebrow went up immediately, stopping Ralph in mid-word.

"Excuse me," he fumbled. "You pay good money for Martha to cook and clean for you. I don't see why it's necessary for the children to help."

"Or why they have to work so hard," her mother-in-law added, looking for, and receiving, a nod from her husband.

"As I explained earlier, Candy and Jonathan are members of this family, and there are chores that are required of them," she replied. "Helping clean up after meals is one, as is keeping their room tidy. They also take care of Scruffy and Bonhomme, keep order in the barn, help with garden, and anything else they're able to contribute."

"Then what's the point of having a cook and housekeeper?" he asked sarcastically.

"As Marjorie just pointed out, I couldn't do any of this without Martha's help," she replied. "I'd also add, we couldn't do it without everyone pitching in," she finished, smiling in a way that discouraged further discussion on the subject.

After letting her mother-in-law's words sink in for a moment, she moved on.

"While we have a moment alone, there is something I'd like to speak to you about."

The couple shared a glance, hoping this might lead to the subject they came all this way to discuss with their son's widow.

"Of course, dear. What is it?" Marjorie asked.

"In our home, the children, Martha, and I, and any guests we may have, eat our meals together. We share what's happening in our lives, tell stories, and ask and answer questions. Everyone contributes, and, unless it's really called for, no one is admonished at the table," Carolyn paused, having set the stage.

"Ralph, Jonathan has more questions than almost anyone I know. Sometimes, I think he could go on all night asking them, and, I will admit, it can be exasperating at times. While I know you're not used to having children at the dinner table, I ask that, while you're here, you tolerate his eagerness good naturedly. If his questions get to be too much, politely remind him that it's time to give someone else a chance to speak."

You could have heard a pin drop when she finished, but the silence didn't last.

"Carolyn, don't you think your overindulging the children . . . Johnny especially?" Ralph asked arrogantly.

She looked from one to the other, shaking her head slightly.

"I'm not quite sure how, on one hand, I can be overindulging Candy and Jonathan and, on the other, making them work too hard," she pondered, not expecting a response.

Her in-laws looked at each other but neither could come up with a reply.

"Ralph . . . Marjorie . . . my job is to help my children grow up to become good people and productive members of society. To do that, there is so much they have to learn. They need to know what is involved in taking care of a piece of property, whether they end up living in a small house, something the size of Gull Cottage, or one as grand as yours. They both need to understand finances . . . what it takes to earn a living to support themselves or a family, the importance of savings, and how to be good stewards of their money. They certainly need to have manners, and know how to behave in society, but, most importantly, they need to grow up to be honorable, decent, and kind."

It was all her father-in-law could do not to laugh in her face.

"My dear, you're living in a dream world," he chuckled, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Ralph. I . . ."

"Mrs. Muir, we're finished in the kitchen," Martha reported, coming in the room with the children. "If you don't need anything else, I'm going to turn in."

"No, Martha. I don't think we'll need anything more tonight. If we do, we'll take care of it ourselves. Thank you for all you've done. Goodnight."

"You're welcome; goodnight then. Goodnight children . . . Mr. Muir; Mrs. Muir."

The Muirs nodded, and Candy and Jonathan hugged her, wishing her goodnight.

As she walked down the hall, Carolyn looked at the children.

"Well, you two; I'd say it's time for you to get ready for bed."

"Okay. Goodnight Grandmother. Goodnight Grandfather," they said together from the doorway.

Marjorie went to them and gave each a hug, receiving one in return, while Ralph remained where he was standing.

"Grandmother, would you like to read us a story?" Jonathan asked.

She smiled and, as she started to accept, she was interrupted by her husband.

"Now, children, don't you think you're both too old to be read to? You should be reading on your own," he chastised them. "Besides, it's been a long day, and your grandmother and I are tired. We're going to go up to bed now too."

The children looked at each other, not sure what to say, until Candy spoke for them.

"Oh, okay. Goodnight, then. Come on, Jonathan; I'll race you," she said, getting a step ahead of him with her unexpected challenge.

"I'll be up in few minutes," their mom called after them, while staring daggers at their grandfather.

Ralph ignored his daughter-in-law and crossed the room, taking his wife by the elbow.

"Come along, Marjorie. Let's get ready for bed."

As he started toward the steps, he called out a half-hearted "goodnight" to his daughter-in-law.

Marjorie looked back at her regretfully.

"Goodnight, Carolyn."

Wishing them goodnight, she watched as her in-laws made their way up the steps. In the years she had been married to their son, she had been so busy trying to hide the reality of her own life, it never occurred to her that Marjorie may have been doing the same thing.

It seemed her dad had sized up the Muir men perfectly several years ago. When Carolyn learned the truth about Robert's womanizing, and finally told her parent's how he treated her and the children, Brad Williams was livid . . . and angry at himself. He admitted that he'd had his concerns about her happiness but didn't say anything. Over the years, he'd gotten to know more than he cared to know about Ralph Muir and didn't think much of him, and he'd mistakenly assumed Robert had taken after his mother. Learning what his daughter and grandchildren's lives were like, he'd angrily told her, 'The apple doesn't fall far from the tree in that family!'

XXXXX

After checking the doors, and putting out the lights, Carolyn went up to the nursery to see to the children. The visit with their grandparents hadn't gotten off to a good start and dinner was a disaster. She suspected they might be ready to talk.

When she peeked around the door, they were already in their pajamas and under the covers. After making sure they'd washed their face and hands and cleaned their teeth, she sat on the edge of Candy's bed.

"Mommy? Why does grandfather have to be so . . . so . . . so . . .?" her daughter asked, stumped at the right word to use.

"Gruff?"

"Yes, he was really a bear today. He wasn't happy about anything, and he . . ."

"He did like Martha's mashed potatoes and gravy," Jonathan reminded her.

"That's true," Candy agreed. "But he wasn't very nice to you at dinner, or about Grandmother reading to us."

"And he did kinda ignore you," Jonathan recalled.

Candy nodded.

"Mom? Do you think we're too old to be read to?" her son asked as he slipped out of bed to join them.

"I don't think so, sweetie," she replied, smiling and running her hand down his arm. "Do you think I'm too old to be read to . . . or the captain?"

The perplexed look on his face told her he didn't understand what she meant. She cupped his cheek in her hand and looked from one precious face to another.

"Jonathan . . . Candy . . . it doesn't matter to the captain and me that you like being read to, even though you can read on your own. We enjoy reading to you and being read to ourselves. The time spent with you before you go to bed is important to both of us," she told them. "There may come a day, though, when you won't want to be read to anymore."

"Oh no, Mommy, we'll always want you and the captain to read to us," Candy replied, crawling out from under the covers to sit beside her.

She looked at her daughter, brushing a strand of hair away from her eyes, knowing that would not be the case but didn't say anything.

"Yeah, we'll always want to be read to," Jonathan added. "Maybe one day we can read to you and the captain before you go to bed."

She chuckled and lifted her son onto her lap and put her arms around both children.

"That would be wonderful. I would enjoy that very much, and I know the captain would too," she said hugging them close.

Before they eased into their bedtime routine, she wanted to be sure there was nothing else bothering them.

"Are you both okay?"

"Do you mean because Grandfather gave most of his attention to Jonathan but was still mean to him?" Candy asked.

Their mother nodded.

"I'm okay. Grandfather's always been like that, but I kind of hoped he'd missed us since we'd been gone, and things would be different . . . but they're not," she admitted. "Mom, the captain, Mr. Horan, and the others are always so nice to us, but the way Grandfather acted reminded me of the way Father was when he was home. He never wanted to do anything with us or listen to us. Father sure was a lot like Grandfather."

A stricken look appeared on her brother's face.

"What is it, sweetheart?" his mother asked.

"Grandfather says I'm the spitting image of Father," he reminded her, his eyes pooling. "Does that mean I'll be like them when I grow up?"

She hugged him close.

"No, Jonathan. You will not grow up to be like your father . . . or your grandfather. You will grow up to be your own man, and you will decide what kind of man you want to be."

That made him feel better but, as a thought occurred to him, he sat up straight to look at his mom and sister.

"Do you think it would be okay if I grow up to be like the captain? Candy said I might look like him one day, if I grow a beard," he said excitedly. "We both have blue eyes, you know."

A broad smile spread across his mother's face. She looked at her daughter gratefully, running the backs of her fingers down her cheek as a thank you, and then looked back at her son.

"Jonathan, I think the captain is a very good man to grow up to be like," she told him, looking at him closely. "You know . . . now that you mention it . . . you do have blue eyes like his." she agreed, then looked back at Candy. "I'd say, you both do."

Their smiles lit up the room as thoughts of Captain Gregg, and a family hug, brought talk of their father and grandfather to an end.

"Should we pick up our story where we left off?" their mom asked.

"Maybe we should read something else tonight; since the captain can't be with us," Jonathan suggested.

"Yeah, it was getting really exciting when we left off, and I think we should wait until he has time to get caught up, so we can find out what happens, together," Candy agreed.

"We can read something else. What would you like to start?"

Candy retrieved Alice's Adventures in Wonderland from the bookshelf.

"How about this?"

"Oh, that's a girl's story," Jonathan complained.

"No, it's not. You'll like it; I promise," her sister assured him.

"All right," he grumbled and got up to go back to his bed.

"Why don't we all snuggle in Candy's bed while we read tonight?" their mom suggested.

"Okay!"

Candy and Jonathan crawled under the covers, and Carolyn balanced herself on the edge of the bed, next to them.

"Kids, I know Grandfather can be . . . well . . . a bear, but I want you to treat him and your grandmother with respect and kindness."

"Yes, ma'am," they said together.

"Right," she smiled. "Now, where should we pick up Alice's story?"

"At the beginning, so Jonathan doesn't miss anything."

"Good plan," she said, opening the book to the cover page.

"Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll.

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, `and what is the use of a book,' thought Alice `without pictures or conversation?'"