It was actually the middle of the night, Tracy Island time, that Jeff boarded his private jet and headed for America and a showdown with his mother. Despite the jet's hypersonic speed, it was still a long flight, and Jeff was determined to arrive early enough in the day to reasonably argue for a same day return.

He carried a briefcase with him stuffed with plans for reducing the workload for himself and his sons. A lot of it was contingent on the building of a series of new robotic devices. Brains anticipated having the designs completed within a week, and the actual machines up and running within three months. If everything went according to plan, not only would his sons get actual days off, but a lot of the more strenuous jobs would be either eliminated entirely, or drastically reduced.

Jeff found he was actually thankful for Ruth's interference. Once all of the labor saving plans were in place, International Rescue would be working a lot more like his original dream. His sons had never complained about the workload, but the smiles that had appeared as each new idea was brought up showed him how great the strain of the job actually was.

The long hours of flying gave him plenty of time to marshal his thoughts for the best way to go about approaching his mom, including an hour long pep talk over the radio with Scott. By the time he landed at the private airstrip near the Tracy family farm, he was eager to get on with it. Despite his enthusiasm, he took the time to re-fuel the jet, in hopes of a quick turnaround.

With the jet prepped and ready, he entered the nearby hangar, and got in the old sedan kept there strictly for trips between the airstrip and house. He did the ten minute drive in more like six minutes, and parked in front of the old farmhouse. As he got out of the car, Gordon appeared at the top of the porch steps. "Dad! How was the flight?"

"Boring and long." Jeff frowned. Seeing his son in real life was very different than over the videophone. "You're thin. Are you sure you're all right?"

Gordon shrugged. "For a while there, I just couldn't face food. But Grandma's made sure that I'm making up for lost time." He patted his belly, then cocked his head to one side. "She knows you're coming."

"She does?"

"Yeah. She asked me at dinner how my day went, so I told her. I kind of gave her a head's up on the plans, too."

"And what did she say?"

"Nothing, actually. I'm not sure what she's thinking."

The two men shared a worried frown. "Well, might as well get this over with." Jeff said with a sigh.

Father and son climbed the porch stairs and entered the house. Jeff breathed in a myriad of half forgotten scents. Although he lived half a world away, in a lush sub-tropical paradise, this old farmhouse still felt like home. Without thinking, he headed to the kitchen, knowing instinctively that that was where he would find his mother.

Pushing through the swinging door, he found a sight he had seen a thousand times before; his mother seated at the big farm table shelling peas. He reflected that many of the most important decisions of his life were decided at this same table. Ruth looked up from her work, and smiled a welcome. "Well, I see you've arrived. Get yourself some coffee and have a seat. We'll have lunch in just a bit."

"Thanks, Mom." Jeff moved to the counter where the inevitable pot of fresh ground coffee awaited. "Can I pour you some? Gordon, what about you?"

"Yes, thank you, son." Ruth replied, then seeing the wistful look on her grandson's face, addressed him. "And, yes, you can have a cup or two of coffee."

Gordon grinned his delight. "See, Dad, I really am better if Grandma's going to let me have grown up drinks."

Ruth narrowed her eyes, although she couldn't disguise the twinkle. "Keep it up and no cookies for you!"

Gordon just grinned, accepting the mug his father gave him. Jeff placed a second mug by his mother's hand and sat down. "I understand Gordon's given you an idea of our plans."

"He's mentioned them, yes."

"Well, what do you think?"

Ruth paused in her work, then looked searchingly into her son's face. "You do understand why I did this, don't you?"

Staring into those kind compassionate eyes, Jeff was almost undone. He steeled himself, not wanting to show weakness in front of his son. After a moment, he nodded. "Yes, Mom, I know why. You could have picked a better time, though. We were on the verge of pulling John away from his Galeano event."

"Well, it was you who chose the time. You're the one who had that boy working from his sick bed." Ruth responded tartly.

"Grandma, we've been all over that…" Gordon started.

"No, son, your grandmother is right. I should never have let you work on that damn report. I apologize, I just wasn't thinking."

"No, you weren't, but in the end it was a good thing." Ruth remarked.

"Well, yes, but you've always taught me the ends don't justify the means, Mom, and I am just sorry that it came to this."

"I'm sorry too, sweetheart." Ruth reached over and patted her son's hand.

"Okay, so is the contrition fest over? I swear, neither of you guys ever listen to me." Gordon grumped. "I'm not a little kid anymore. I don't need to be coddled. I don't want to be fussed over. I was bored. If I hadn't worked on that report, I would have done something else, probably a lot less constructive. Now, Grandma, I agreed to stay up here because you felt it was important to make your point. Fine, you've made it. Now, can I just go home and get back to work?"

Both Jeff and Ruth looked up, surprised at the outburst. Gordon tended to be low-key and easy going, and it was rare for him to put things so baldly. The two elder Tracys glanced at each other with a glimmer of mischief, and Jeff said, "Well, I don't know, son. I was bent on bringing you home today, but now that I see you, I wonder if maybe a few more weeks rest might not be in order."

"What?" Gordon stared, drop-jawed.

"Can't say but that I agree with your father, baby. You're never cranky when you feel well. Maybe you should go lie down for a while."

Gordon sat stunned looking from one face to the other. Jeff remarked sagely, "It's probably all that coffee, Mom. You let him have it too soon."

"That's true, he never did handle caffeine all that well. Remember the time when he had a sip and couldn't sleep that night?"

"Grandma, that was when I was six years old, and it was Christmas Eve. That one sip of coffee had nothing to do with me staying up. I was trying to catch a reindeer." Gordon said with a crooked smile, finally catching on.

"All I remember is waking up in the middle of the night, and finding you in the front yard in 20 degree weather, in nothing but your pajamas, digging a hole in your grandma's flower bed."

"Well, the ground was frozen everywhere else." Gordon said with dignity. "I would have caught that reindeer too, if you hadn't stopped me."

"As I told you then, Santa Claus has more sense than to let his animals trample my camellias."

"Well, if Scott had just let me put that bear trap up on the roof like I wanted, I would never have had to be out in the middle of the night."

Jeff's eyes widened. This was one story he had never heard before. Apparently neither had Ruth, because she asked in a tone of amazement, "Where on earth did you find a bear trap?"

Gordon smiled in remembrance. "Where did I always find that kind of stuff? Jimmy Caudill had it in his shed. Jimmy Caudill had lots of neat stuff."

Jeff shook his head. "And Scott found you with it?"

"Well, kind of. See, I had this piece of rope tied around my waist, and the bear trap tied to the other end. I figured I needed to have both hands free to climb up on the roof. I got up into the attic, and I climbed out through the window, and I was hanging from the rain gutter, kind of inching my way along to get to that overhang over the porch. But the rope was a bit too long, and the bear trap was sort of swinging below me, and it banged on Scott's window."

Jeff felt his face drain of color. The idea of his six-year-old son dangling 30 feet above the ground from a rickety rain gutter appalled him. Gordon, caught up in the memory, didn't notice. "Scott stuck his head out of the window, and found me, and made me climb down to his window. He gave me holy hell." Gordon smiled. "I figured I would just wait until he wasn't home before trying again, but he took my bear trap. Never did find it…. So, anyway, I had to dig in the camellias. It was all Scott's fault."

It was Jeff and Ruth's turn to share a moment of stunned silence. Ruth slowly shook her head. "There are some things a child should never divulge to a parent, baby, and that was one of them."

Gordon just grinned. "I've got a million of them. Wanna hear about when Johnny jumped off the roof of the Milstein's chicken coop into the hog pond?"

"NO!" Jeff and Ruth cried in unified horror.

"Aw, come on, you two, lighten up. We all made it through to adulthood. How bad can it be?"

Jeff shook his head. "Never mind, son. Mom, I brought along the plans for improvement. Do you want to go over them at all?"

"No, son, I don't need the specifics. As long as you understand the principle, I'm satisfied. You do understand the principle, don't you?"

"Yes, Mother." Jeff responded wryly. "It really was a 'can't see the forest for the trees' situation. I never intended to work the boys to an early grave, you know."

"Yes, I know, dear."

"So, can we all just go home now? The boys have been missing their grandma, you know."

"And me. They've been missing me, too." Gordon said with absolute confidence.

"Well, we're not going anywhere until we have the lunch I've got planned. Gordon, you can go pack. Jeff, if you'll set the table please." Ruth wiped her hands on a towel, and took the colander full of peas to the sink. Jeff and Gordon got up to obey her orders, Jeff heading for the cupboard, and Gordon out the door.

As soon as the young man was gone, Jeff paused. "How is he really, Mom? He looks thin."

Ruth deftly shifted the peas to a pot and put them on the stove. "I suppose Alan told you that he couldn't make it up the stairs on his own when we got here?"

"Yes."

"Well, he stayed in bed on his own for the better part of two weeks, then I kept him down another week. I had to fight him to take that pain medication, but then you know he's as stubborn as the rest of them."

Jeff frowned. "He's only been on his feet for a week?"

"Thereabouts. I know you need him back on the island, but I'll want your promise that you won't push him too hard. Or let him push himself."

"Mom, you know I don't want anything to happen to him. I promise, he'll just do the easy stuff for now."

"Good. I won't be going back with you today."

Jeff felt his heart sink. With trepidation, he asked, "Why not?"

"I've got a bridge party here on Thursday, and I promised to go to a Ruth Circle function at the church on Saturday. I don't like to break my promises."

"Oh. Okay. Well, how about I send Tin-Tin up next week sometime? You girls can stop in San Francisco and get some shopping done."

"I'd like that. Thank you, dear."

Finishing up with setting the table, Jeff leaned on the counter. "You know, the boys thought it was a bad idea for me to come here today. They said that you and I fight like pitbulls."

Ruth smiled. "Well that's not so far from the truth, is it?"

"No." Jeff grinned ruefully. "In fact, I got an entire list of instructions from Scott on what to say and what not to say."

Ruth looked over at her son. "Did it include things like, 'Gordon and John are not pawns, so don't act as if they are'?"

Jeff stared. "Actually, it included exactly that. How did you know?"

"I got the same lecture from Gordon."

"Okay, I've loaded my gear into the car. Is it time to eat?" Gordon asked as he came in the door. He paused at the two stares he got. "What? What's wrong?"

"Your grandmother and I were just comparing notes." Jeff stated coolly. "It seems we were both given the same list of instructions."

"You boys have been manipulating us." Ruth accused.

Gordon barked a laugh at the tone of hurt indignation coming from his father and grandma. "And you two haven't? Gordon to queen's bishop four? John to block?"

A slow smile spread on Jeff's face. "Okay, you have us there. But don't think you can get away with things. We still know all and see all."

Ruth nodded agreement a smile on her face. Gordon's eyes alit with mischief. "Did I ever tell you about the time that Alan decided to jump up on the corn conveyor and almost fell into the shucker?"

Jeff groaned his defeat. Ruth pursed her lips, "You just sit down here and eat. And I'll thank you to keep your stories to yourself."

The three settled down to a lunch of pork chops, mashed potatoes and peas. After a few moments of quiet, Ruth reached over and caressed her grandson's hair, letting him know of her love and forgiveness. Gordon who never doubted it, simply smiled and continued to eat.

As they were finishing up, Gordon asked, "Grandma, do you want me to help you pack?"

"Lord, no, baby. Not the way you just throw things in a bag. I can do my own packing, thank you. But I'm not leaving with you and your father."

Gordon's face fell. "But I thought everything was okay now."

"And so it is. But if you'll remember, I'm having the girls in for bridge on Thursday, and you know your Aunt Tina has been planning that installation at the church for weeks. I'm afraid I'll be staying until next week."

"Okay, I guess I can stay one more week."

"No, sweetheart, you go on home with your father today. He's promised to send Tin-Tin up next week, so we can get in a bit of shopping. The last thing we need is a man moping around while we pick out our delicates."

Jeff hid his grin. Whenever his mother had wanted to shop alone, she had threatened to shop for ladies underwear. His sons were all of an accord with him that such an ordeal was a fate worse than death. To his credit, Gordon didn't immediately head for the hills. "Well, if you're sure, Grandma…"

"I'm sure. Now, I'm wondering if it might not be a good idea for you to lie down for a bit before you leave. You look pale."

"No, ma'am, I'm fine. I can sleep on the flight for a bit if I have to."

Jeff scrutinized his son's face. It was true, he did look pale, but the eyes were bright and alert, and Jeff agreed that sleeping on the staid but comfortable Lear jet was very possible. Still, he had himself flown for ten hours straight, and could do with some rest. Nodding, he made his decision. "Actually, a nap is probably a good idea for me too. It's a long flight, and I'm not as young as I used to be."

Gordon looked at his father, perplexed. "Well, then, I'll fly and you nap. I'm fine, really."

"Oh, no. You are not fit to fly, and that's all there is to that." Ruth said firmly. "You might think you're ready to go beat the world, but I know better. I like this idea of you both taking a nap. I'll tell you what, you go lie down, and I'll bake a tray of brownies for the flight back. How's that?"

Jeff could see the denial in his son's eyes. Before the younger man could say anything, Jeff threw his arm across Gordon's shoulders, and with forced heartiness, said, "That will just hit the spot, Mom. Come on, son, the sooner we get to sleep, the sooner we can be gone."

After a moment's resistance, Gordon gave in, and with a sigh followed his father out, muttering. "Why don't you guys ever listen to me?"

Jeff ignored the truculence and led the way up the stairs. Pausing by Gordon's bedroom door, he said, "Listen, you just do as your grandmother says, and we'll be on our way soon enough. Just sleep yourself out, son."

Gordon rolled his eyes, but responded mildly, "Yes, sir."

With a fond smile, Jeff moved on to his own bedroom. To his mild surprise, he found his bed neatly made. He had expected to have to pull off dust covers and make the bed himself, but as usual, his mother was one step ahead of him. Loosening his belt and kicking off his shoes, he laid down with a sigh, and within minutes was asleep.