Present Day

"Um…so…when did you finally get used to the idea of my parents…uh…going out?" Daniel Regan asked shyly as he squirmed uncomfortably in his seat across from Peter Belden. Not only did it feel weird at that moment to find out that his great uncle had, at first, been opposed to the relationship between Hallie and Bill Regan, but he also couldn't get himself balanced very well on the kitchen bar stool he was attempting to perch upon.

"Well, Daniel, it happened when…Oh son, I'm sorry. Let's move over to the kitchen table to finish talking about this. Looks like that leg of yours is getting tired of keeping you pushed up on that stool? Why didn't you tell me? I was going on and on about the argument I had that night with Bill, and I didn't even think…"

"It's alright, Uncle Peter," Daniel interrupted. "I'm fine. Really. But, it would be nice to have a chair with a back on it."

Their relocation involved grabbing a few handfuls of the Christmas cookies Helen Belden and her granddaughter Emily had just made, and soon, amid their munching, Peter began once again to answer Daniel's question.

"Let's see here, now. You wanted to know when I finally got over being angry with Bill for courting your mother. Well, I guess the moment I realized it was a good thing for the two of them to be together was the day he had that accident coming back from White Plains. It was really cold outside…much like today, actually, and it had been snowing on and off pretty heavily all afternoon. It was the day of the Wheeler's annual Christmas party…"

Flashback: Peter's POV

"…again, if you don't need to be out on the roads this afternoon, it is best to avoid the icy conditions and stay at home," warned the radio announcer. "Of course, there are still many last minute shoppers out there braving the snow and causing a lot of traffic around the Hudson Bay Mall. Let's check in with our traffic reporter…"

Peter Belden reached up and turned off the radio on the dashboard with one quick motion. He was already creeping along slowly in a long line of cars, and he didn't feel like being reminded of the inconvenience.

But, I'm nowhere near the mall, Peter thought glumly. There must be an accident up ahead somewhere.

He sighed and tried to think positively about the situation. He knew he had plenty of gas, and his vehicle was warm and dry. As annoying as it was to be late for the Wheeler's Christmas party, Peter was thankful that he wasn't the one causing this traffic jam. He decided to say a quick prayer for the safety of anyone who might have been in the imagined accident ahead of him on the road.

And, then he started wishing he had a cell phone.

They aren't just for the wealthy, anymore, Peter thought to himself.

True, he would have laughed uncontrollably if someone had told him years ago that he would one day even consider owning a cellular phone, but he, along with the times, had changed a lot in the past few years. Peter thought of the first car phone his neighbor Matthew Wheeler had installed in his limo. It had been a bulky and odd looking device. Nothing at all like the new, sleeker looking models people were buying up left and right. He remembered laughing at Matt's dependency on technology back then, but it now seemed that such convenient communication wasn't really a bad idea.

I need to find a phone soon and let Helen know I'm alright. He suddenly realized. If I don't, she'll worry.

He searched the roadsides for a convenience store as he drove along, and his mind wandered back to the topic of cell phones. He decided that in the new millennium, which was rapidly approaching, everyone would probably own a cell phone. His boss at work had even purchased one recently.

And, I'm sure it's only a matter of time before our company expects us all to have one.

As if the air around him had suddenly started to thicken, the thought of being constantly "on-call" with his job immediately made Peter feel overwhelmed and burdened. He wished his life could always be as simple as it was when he was home at Crabapple Farm. There, with his wife and children, the hustle and bustle of the business world did not exist. He was cherished and respected. He knew how to face each crazy situation his children got themselves tangled up in. It was real life. And, it was beautiful.

But, the bank business was, for Peter, a place of perpetual stress. Every day felt like a mental marathon where simply coming out even with all the others running the same rat race with you seemed like a huge victory. He was thankful that his son Mart was keeping him up-to-date with computers; otherwise, he would be like many of the other upper management members his age who were now being laid off for not being able to keep up. The new wave of computer-based banking was taking its toll on those who had learned the business the old way.

Truly, Peter was a stubborn survivor. He was determined to keep his successful place within the company, and so far, he was doing just that. He had put good use to the "can do" attitude his father had instilled in him, and he prayed every day that his children would learn enough from his example to make their own lives useful and full.

A stab of bitter sweet nostalgia suddenly filled Peter's heart with the thought of his offspring.

As quickly as the world around him was transforming, his children, too, were becoming something new and different to him. All of them were out on their own, save one. Mart was married to Diana, his high school sweetheart, and Trixie was running a detective agency with her best friend and roommate, Honey Wheeler; their lives were now entwined with the lives of other people. It was sad to have them gone from home so soon, yet it was also sometimes funny to watch them take on the responsibilities of their new roles. Had he not known Honey and Di so well, he might have been worried about the "almost-twins;" but, there was comfort in knowing the crazy antics of his two middle children were lovingly being reined in by their level-headed partners. His oldest son, Brian, was certainly faring well for himself, too. He was living in an apartment in the heart of Sleepyside, so he could be closer to the hospital where he was doing his residency. The pride of the family, Brian was about to make history as being one of the youngest people ever to complete the medical program at the local university. Peter couldn't help but swell up at the thought of Brian's accomplishments. Everyone in town looked up to the young man.

I hope we don't put too much pressure on him, Peter suddenly thought. He's really quite sensitive underneath all that maturity.

And, then his thoughts fell heavily on the subject of his youngest child, Bobby. The boy was facing the uncomfortable journey of puberty without his older brothers at home. And, as if that wasn't bad enough, he'd recently lost his personal hero to cancer.

Dan Mangan's been gone for a few years now, and poor Bobby still can't seem to find any peace about it, Peter thought glumly. I thought Hallie moving here would help, but…it's only made matters worse.

His niece, Hallie Belden, had recently moved from Idaho to Sleepyside to finish up her art degree and was now living in the apartment next door to Brian. Of course, Peter knew she didn't stay there much. Her new romantic relationship with the Wheeler's groom, Bill Regan, brought her out near Crabapple Farm quite often.

Often enough for Bobby to think she was now more interested in Dan's uncle than she had ever been in Dan.

And that's a problem, Peter sighed to himself. Images of an angry Bobby glaring at Hallie filled his head.

Although he didn't see Hallie's infatuation with Bill as a gross betrayal the way Bobby did, Peter was still in agreement with his son's negative assessment of the relationship. He based his opinion on the couple's age differences and the fact that the two of them had not had time to properly grieve over Dan's death. He thought it was just too soon...for the both of them.

Then, suddenly, a sickening sense of hopelessness began creeping into the Belden patriarch's stomach, causing him to seek out the radio again as a source of distraction from his troubling thoughts of Bobby and Hallie. I just don't know how to help them, he thought sadly. He flipped through the channels, searching for Christmas music to lift his spirits.

And, that was when he saw the truck.

At least, the back part of it, anyway.

The front part had been completely covered over by snow that had been dislodged when the vehicle had slammed into the snowbank head-on.

But, whatever spare portion was now visible to Peter as he pulled up to the accident scene was still enough to spark recognition and cause the man's heart to seize up in his chest, his voice to catch in a strangled cry in the back of his throat, and his mind to ring out a protest of denial in his head.

Oh God, please no! His terrified brain buzzed. That's Bill's truck!