5. No Place Like Home

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"Parker, please."

"No, I can't. Even if I wanted to, which I don't, you're not ready. See you later, Squirt."

And so another morning began in the Snyder household, with Parker slamming out the door and Sage snarling at the nickname she hated.

Sage whipped open the door. "Jerk!" she yelled out after him as he pulled out of the driveway. He tooted the horn; Sage slammed the door in response.

"That's enough, Miss," Carly scolded. It was mornings like this she missed Jack the most-although she was sure Jack didn't miss the typical morning give-and-take irritability between their children.

"Why don't you make him take me to school?"

"Because he's right, you're not ready."

"He's only leaving now because he's going to pick up Faith!" Not waiting for an answer, Sage stomped back upstairs.

Alone, Carly shook her head. Eighteen more years to go.

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In no time at all, the tires were crunching over the farm's gravel driveway. Walking into the kitchen, he found Holden making himself breakfast.

"Morning, Parker," he said, barely lifting his eyes from the eggs cooking on the stove. "You're here early."

"I promised Faith I'd take her to school." Seeing a hint of a frown emerge, Parker added hastily, "I hope that's okay." Having already been on the receiving end of one father's wrath, he had no intention of being on another's.

"Well...yeah. I just would have thought she'd be waiting for you. Not so behind schedule," Holden explained, taking a second to avoid using the word sluggish to describe his daughter's lack of morning initiative.

"Oh...you're here," Faith broke in, coming down the kitchen steps. Still in her pajamas and wide velcro curlers, she didn't seem to be in any hurry to start the day, as she popped two slices of bread into the toaster.

"I said I would be." Parker stared at her, annoyed and intrigued at the same time. He didn't want to be late. But there was something really cute about seeing her so unconcerned about her looks. Liberty never let him see her that way. Even after she'd gotten sick.

"Well, I wasn't sure. I didn't get a text back from you this morning. I thought maybe you forgot," she said, staring defiantly at him.

Angry...check. Parker patted his pockets for his cell phone. "You did? I didn't get it. I haven't even checked my cell this morning. I was in a hurry," he pointed out, finally finding it in his jacket pocket. "Sage and I got into it," he added, throwing out another distraction to his morning for good measure. Groaning inwardly, he realized it was still off. "Mom made me turn it off last night, and I forgot to turn it back on." A familiar string of notes sounded as the power surged, and he eyed a message in the window-15 missed messages.

"Oh..." Faith blushed, realizing there was a perfectly good explanation and he hadn't just been ignoring her. Cringing, she mentally kicked herself for being so insecure. "That's okay," she said rushing by him. "Everyone makes mistakes. Is that really the time? I'll be ready in five minutes. Old lady Pratt already has it out for me," she yelled as she ran up the stairs.

Holden shook his head at the exchange, sliding his eggs onto a plate and appropriating the toast Faith had left behind. "I appreciate you taking Faith to school, Parker," he said slowly. "As long as we're clear on some things, that is."

"Like?"

"Like going straight to school, being on time and driving responsibly. Which includes not letting Faith drive without a license like you did the other day. And no driving around with a carload of friends."

"They sound a lot like Mom and Dad's rules."

"I'm sure they do. I just want my expectations to be clear."

"Understood." Parker cleared his throat. "I know you know a lot about my relationship with Libby," he started. "But I think I've grown up a lot-"

"Parker-I have no doubt you have. And I know there were a lot of other things going on in your life at the time," Holden assured him. "Faith-she's trying very hard to be grown up. And she's had a crush on you since she was twelve. She's more sensitive than she'll admit."

"I know." Faith was really a lot like his mother that way, but that was the last thing he wanted to admit or bring up to Holden. That history was much better forgotten. "Faith and I are friends. I mean, we're more than that. But not-" he stammered hastily.

Holden buttered his toast slowly, hiding a smile as Parker became more and more tongue-tied. Just before he started to turn green, Holden stopped him. "I didn't mean to put you on the spot. This is your senior year. It should be special. Just make sure it's for the right reasons, okay?"

"I'm looking forward to a lot less Drama this year." Parker laughed nervously.

"Let's hope," Holden agreed. Satisfied his point was clear, he ambled with his plate over to the table and sat down. "How's Jack seem to you?" he asked, sipping coffee from his oversized cup.

Parker shrugged. "Happy." Unsure if he should elaborate, he simply fell silent.

"It's been a long time since I've seen him this happy. Your mom-being with you kids-it shows." he nodded. "It's just as we get closer to the the end of the month-" Something in Parker's expression confirmed he shared an uneasiness about the anniversary of Brad's death and the effect it would have. "I'm sure your Dad will handle it," Holden backtracked. "He's got your Mom in his corner."

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"Barbara."

The new Mrs. Coleman beamed at the sight of her former stepson and son-in-law. Inviting him to sit across from her in the Lakeview dining room, she couldn't help but notice the resemblance to his late father Gunnar. Fatherhood had brought a noticeable new dimension to him. Not that he hadn't considered Johnny his son. But there had always been a defensiveness about it, knowing Craig had rights to him as well. Perhaps it was as simple as knowing there was another living person who shared his DNA. For a man who'd lived most of his life without blood relatives, it had to give him a sense of connection he'd never known. "So, Dustin, what can I do for you?"

Amused at the use of his proper first name, which few outside of the police bothered to utilize, he joined her, ordering a large cup of coffee from a passing waiter. "I wanted to thank you for the present you sent Lorenzo. I know Janet was impressed by your generosity. Me too."

"You're welcome. It must have been quite a surprise, finding out you'd fathered Janet's child. Though I am a little disappointed I heard the news from John and not you," she added with a sniff.

"He was passing out cigars to everyone in the hospital before I could wrap my head around it," Dusty smirked innocently. "I would have gotten around to you eventually."

Barbara cocked an eyebrow at his puckish tease. "Make sure your-Janet-knows that blanket is cashmere. You don't just throw it into the wash," she admonished. "Like the rest of her shabby-not-chic wardrobe."

"I'll pass that along," he replied, grinning through her catty remarks. For Barbara, they were soft lobs of disapproval, meant to remind him no one would ever measure up to Jennifer. He understood. Moving on hadn't meant he'd forgotten. Just that he'd embraced life again-just as she had with her new marriage. "Where's Henry?" he asked, trying to keep any trace of sarcasm out of his voice. Other than the fact it had to drive Paul crazy, he didn't have much use for Henry Coleman.

"At the diner, hiring a new manager," she replied, taking a sip of orange juice.

"I thought maybe he'd sell it, now that you bought Metro."

"No," she shook her head. "He's very proud of his accomplishments there. He won't be as hands on, but he wants to keep it."

Dusty sat back in his chair. "I like to be as hands on as I can get."

"I'm sure Janet approves," Barbara snidely remarked.

"I've been thinking about getting WorldWide back into the rag trade," Dusty elaborated, ignoring the cynical undertone. "If you'd be inclined to sell to me."

Barbara leaned forward, marveling at his audaciousness with a fixed glare. "I would rather chew off my right arm than sell to Lucinda! And none of your charm or compliments are going to change that!"

Shrugging, he met her hostility calmly. "Lucinda's no longer involved in the day to day operations. It hasn't been announced to the stockholders yet, but the long and short of it is-Lily forced her out. And rather than fight it, Lucinda's decided to enjoy a new phase of her life."

"I realized she and John had been together a lot," Barbara admitted, a little stunned at the news. "There must be a hell of a story behind Lily finally putting Lucinda in her place," she observed, hoping for some of the juicier details.

"Just a little family squabble," Dusty replied with mock discretion.

"Is this a new toy for Lily to play with? The stockholders aren't going to be happy about that. I heard rumors of some factory that didn't exist? No one's going to take her seriously."

"I take her seriously. That's all that matters. And no, it's not Lily's idea. It's mine. Although I would like her to play a significant role in the new division."

"Finding just the right designer could take quite a while."

"I've got a couple of feelers out."

"So you've thought this out," Barbara stated.

"I'd love to keep you involved. Consulting. Mentoring whoever I bring in."

"Henry and I are going to be busy remodeling the club. Buying a house. I can't see myself having the time."

"Keep an open mind," he asked, rising. "Assuming you'd sell to WorldWide."

Barbara examined him, narrowing her eyes to look him up and down. "You're not fooling me-trying to sweeten me up to get a better price."

"I never flatter. Unless I can use it to my advantage," he smiled.

"Send me your best offer. I'll tell Tom to hold off on announcing the sale."

"Thank you." Dusty started to leave, then stopped and kissed her cheek. "Stop by-see Lorenzo. Grandma."

Touched, she patted his cheek. "I'd like that."

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Having passed through the security check, Carly breezed through the halls of the Oakdale Police Department, waving to faces she'd seen for years. As she came to the double doors of the squad room, she spotted Jack at his desk. Pensive. Focused.

Sexy.

Deciding to surprise him, she fluffed her hair, and tip-toed inside. With his eyes glued to the desk, he made no acknowledgment of seeing her or being affected by the low-level buzz going on around him.

Officer Martinez nearly called out a greeting to Carly, but she stopped him with a finger to her lips. Pointing at Jack, she beckoned Martinez to come along with her. They stood in front of his desk for ten seconds, grinning at each other at Jack's complete preoccupation. In another ten seconds, the squad room froze with them, amused at being in on the joke before them.

At the forty five second mark, Carly motioned to Martinez. "Detective!" he exclaimed in a rattling baritone.

"What?" Jack retorted, annoyed at the interruption, only to look up and see Carly and a handful of people looking at him and busting into an assortment of giggles and guffaws.

"Someone here to see you," Martinez cracked before continuing on his way.

Thrown, he straightened the mess of files on his desk, fidgeting and shifting the objects on it until he was satisfied. "What brings you by?" he asked when he was finally composed.

"Nothin' much," Carly replied, grabbing the edge of the desk and leaning forward playfully. "Handsome."

"Have I told you today how beautiful you are?"

"You better have," she teased, leaning in further to tickle the tip of his nose with her own. "I remember you mumbling something before you left for work. But that could have been anything."

"That was I love you. This is you're more beautiful today than the day I met you in Montana."

"That's better."

The husky tone of her voice told him all was forgiven, and he lightly brushed his lips over hers before straightening up. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I thought I'd take my handsome husband to lunch."

"Will I do?"

"Yep!" she exclaimed without hesitation. "Can you go now?"

Jack shrugged. "It's been a slow morning. Sure." Grabbing his coat, they stopped to inform the desk sargeant, and walked out into the bright fall sunshine. "Where would you like to go?" he asked, digging into his pocket for his car keys.

"Let's just walk down to Al's," Carly suggested, holding out her hand.

Wordlessly agreeing, he grasped her hand and they fell into an easy pace, heading two blocks north to the diner. "So, what did I miss this morning?"

"Just short of World War Three," she joked. "Sage wanted Parker to take her to school. And of course-"

"-that's the last thing her brother wants-his little sister tagging along when he picks up Faith."

"She's at that age. And I think she's a little upset she made that mistake at her recital last night."

"She's too hard on herself. She missed a cue. No one even noticed."

"She knows. That's all that matters." Carly sighed. "Sometimes I think she got the worst combination of our genes. She forgot her necklace, and I told her she didn't need it. Now she'll probably never take it off again."

"Sage will shake it off-just wait and see," Jack assured her. "Nothing keeps a Snyder down for long."

Carly bit her tongue, refusing to take the bait and remind him of the Snyder brooding gene. "I hope so." They crossed the street, and Jack held the door for her as they entered Al's. "Yuuuummmm..." she declared, inhaling a jumble of delicious aromas. "I'm starving!"

Grimacing, Jack stopped, pulling Carly back to him. "Maybe we should take it to go? I know how smells aggravate your morning sickness."

"Oh." Carly's eyes lit up, and she patted his chest soothingly. "That's the other news. After both our children slammed out of the house, and I wondered why any adult willingly subjects themselves to all the petty little squabbles...I realized I was hungry. And I wasn't sick as a dog."

"Congratulations," he said, nuzzling her ear.

"Oh, G-man...I can't tell you how delicious everything tasted. It was like those people on Survivor, who literally dissolve into a quivering heap when offered a huge, greasy slice of pizza. Or huge chocolate chip cookies."

"Really?"

He was mocking her, a huge amused grin on his face. "Make fun of me all you want, Jack Snyder. I plan to eat for two for the next seven months."

"I will gladly trek through raging blizzards to bring you pints of Rocky Road ice cream," he vowed.

"I am so going to remember that particular promise."

With the lunch crowd thinning out, they took a corner booth, hoping for a little more privacy. "Today's special...home made chicken soup and barbecued pork sandwiches," Jack read off the card on the table.

"Oh, no...I already know what I want. A bacon cheeseburger, with swiss cheese, no onion, extra tomato and pickles; curly fries, and a turtle brownie with hot fudge sauce."

"That actually sounds really good," Jack conceded.

"It does," came from the table next to them. Lowering a menu from in front of his face, Chris Hughes slid from his seat two tables over into the seat across from Carly. "You have to help me," he pleaded.