Chapter Three

Jaime grabbed Steve's arm, her eyes wide. Yes, he'd heard it, too, and all the forces of nature combined couldn't have kept them from sailing into Lauren's cubicle. James was backing away from the bed, his eyes never leaving his sister. He jumped when he felt Steve's hand on his shoulder. "I – I didn't mean to...!"

Steve hugged his son close while Jaime hurried to Lauren's side. "Mom..." the plaintive voice from the bed called again. Lauren's eyes were open, but not quite focused, and Jaime leaned in where her daughter could see her. "I'm right here, Baby," she crooned. "Everything's ok now – you're gonna be just fine."

Steve grinned at Lauren's frightened twin as he led him down the hall to the rest of the family. "Son, they don't make hero medals big enough for everything you've done in the last two days. Mom and I are so proud of you! What did you say to her – how did this happen?"

"I was only joking..." James hedged, then blushed a little boy's shade of deep crimson. "I told her if she didn't get outta that bed, I would steal the heads off of all her Barbies."

Sometimes one single sound – a loving child's voice – can make your heart sing.

- - - - - -

The Austins had a family tradition – started the day Jaime and Steve brought James and Lauren home as newborns – of parading into the house as one noisy, happy group on all special occasions. Lauren's release from the hospital, after almost three weeks, definitely qualified as a major special occasion; Steve, Jaime and all of her siblings spent several days getting everything ready. Jaime and the girls baked two different cakes and decorated brownies while Steve and James hung a huge 'Welcome Home' banner over the front door and filled the house with streamers and balloons. Right before picking her up, everyone helped jazz up Lauren's wheelchair.

"I thought she'd get crutches," James said. "I think Lauren thought so, too."

"She can't use crutches with a broken arm, Buddy," Steve explained, "but the chair's only temporary. She'll be up and around again before you know it."

James flashed an evil grin that reminded Jaime of his father's. "It just means I get to push her around, right?"

Push her, he did – straight up the front sidewalk in the place of honor at the front end of the Austin parade line. The kids all played their hearts out on harmonicas and kazoos, with Jaime and Steve, arm-in-arm, bringing up the rear.

Sometimes one single sound – the music of children's happiness – is the only sound needed to make you happy, too.

END