Day Four

Gwen

Having conceded the sofa to Gilly over an hour ago, Gwen should have been able to fall asleep, even if she were lying in a nest of the scratchy old blankets she and Sheridan had unearthed in their explorations the previous day. She was that exhausted. But sleep eluded her, and counting sheep was doing her no favors. She'd long since moved on to counting other things: the number of times Petal had bungeed off the edge of the sofa, only to be reeled back in by Gilly; the number of times the fire crackled and popped in the fireplace, then settled down in a shower of orange sparks; the number of times she'd heard the restless pacing of the troubled teenaged boy hiding himself away from the world two floors up; the number of times she'd checked her cell phone for an answering message from Ethan. None of it was working, absolutely none of it, so Gwen finally threw in the towel, casting her blankets aside and climbing to her feet to pad toward the kitchen.

Pedro's beady eyes shifted moodily back and forth in the moonlit kitchen. A tree branch scratched rhythmically against a window. The refrigerator hummed, and the faucet dripped steadily.

All of these things Gwen noticed in her hyper-aware state; something definitely had to give. Crossing to the sink, she twisted the old-fashioned knobs, and the slow dribble of water, mercifully, ceased. She soon found herself staring outside the window, mesmerized by the slow sway back and forth of the tire swing hanging from the lowest branch of the ancient oak that dominated one corner of the spacious back yard. She was so focused, so lulled by its hypnotic movement, she nearly jumped out of her skin when a black cat appeared on the ledge outside the window, its mouth opened in a plaintive, silent meow. She swallowed down a scream when a little voice spoke up over the pounding of her heart, dropped the phone in her hand into the empty sink in her surprise.

"I'm thirsty."

Petal's glassy eyes seemed to bulge out, beg for mercy from the stranglehold Gilly had on her neck.

Shaking the silly thought off, Gwen sighed and crossed the kitchen back to the fridge, Gilly acting as her miniature shadow. Withdrawing a bottle of water from the top shelf, she uncapped it, offered the little girl a sip.

Gilly guzzled from it gratefully, only lowering the bottle from her lips when more than a third of it was gone.

"That's enough," Gwen announced, reclaiming the bottle from the little girl and placing it back inside the fridge. She looked down in surprise when Gilly sagged against her side sleepily, made a pouting revelation.

"I had a dream about Mommy."

Glimpsing real tears welling in the enormous dark eyes, Gwen felt her heart twist painfully for the little girl. Combing a gentle hand through the caramel cloud that framed the heart-shaped little face, she steered the child toward the kitchen table, lifted her to its edge. "Do you want to talk about your dream?"

Gilly shook her head, jutted her small chin out stubbornly.

"It might make you feel better," Gwen offered, stroking tangled strands of hair from Gilly's feverish cheeks.

"No." Gilly's bottom lip protruded even further, and she pressed her face into Petal's soft fur, sniffled once, twice, before the tears welled over and started to fall. "I just want my mommy."

"Oh, Gilly," Gwen sighed, knuckled the tears away with careful hands. "C'mere." The little girl barely resisted when Gwen pulled her into her arms, went willingly, and when she dropped into the nearest chair, its legs scraping loudly against the linoleum, Gilly merely tightened her skinny arms around her neck and held on. "I know you miss your mommy. There's nothing wrong with missing her."

"Papa doesn't miss her," Gilly sniffled into Gwen's shoulder.

Gwen's idly stroking palm settled heavily over the child's back. "Who told you that?" When Gilly's small shoulders shrugged, and the little girl failed to answer her, she gently prodded, "Gilly?" Large, tearful brown eyes shied away from Gwen's probing gaze. "Your papa misses your mommy. Why would you think he doesn't?"

Gilly rubbed a fretful fist against her flushed cheek, hugged Petal even more fiercely. "Because."

"Because why?"

"Because he married Sheridan," Gilly muttered. "If he missed Mommy, he wouldn't have married her."

Gwen opened her mouth to defend Sheridan, hell, Luis by association, and found she couldn't, for a myriad of reasons. They started with her own resentment of the way Luis had further bungled an already messy emotional situation by marrying Sheridan when his heart wasn't completely in it, not to mention being Bella's regretful sperm donor. Actually, her reasons started with Luis even showing up on Sheridan's doorstep that night, and Sheridan…God. Everything with the two of them was such a f***ing mess. It was no wonder Gilly felt the way she did; Gwen had often wondered the same thing herself, but she knew love was much more complex than Gilly's young mind could fathom. And Luis's feelings for Sheridan? Sheridan's feelings for Luis? They encompassed and strained against a wide-ranging spectrum Gwen couldn't even begin to understand, much less explain, so she didn't. She merely repeated her earlier statement, with more conviction. Thankfully, Gilly seemed to buy it as the truth. "Your papa misses your mommy. Everyday."

"Everyday?"

"Everyday," Gwen reaffirmed. She breathed a sigh of relief when Gilly nodded to herself and slid from her lap, her skinny arms hugging Petal close as she rubbed her damp cheek against the bunny's fur. "Want me to tuck you back in?"

Gilly's nose wrinkled up and she shook her head. "I have to go to the bathroom."

Gwen offered to tag along if Gilly so desired.

"I can do it myself," Gilly stubbornly asserted.

"Okay," Gwen relented with a half-smile. "Don't forget to wash your hands. I'll be right behind you," she promised as she watched Gilly trudge away. She stifled a yawn as she glanced around the kitchen, pointedly ignoring Pedro's lingering gaze in favor of seeking out the glowing digital clock on the microwave. She groaned when she noticed the time, lamented the fact she wasn't going to get more than three, four hours tops of sleep if she were really lucky, considering it was already 3 a.m. Mentally running through the items on her to-do list (watch the kids for Sheridan while she and Luis registered Marty for school, look for a job in a town where everybody hates me, find a place to live that isn't a complete dump…) as she pushed her chair back beneath the table, Gwen killed the lights, left the kitchen behind.

The refrigerator started up its song again, in harmony with the restless branch that rustled against the condensation covered window. Pedro was steady and methodical in his accompaniment, only pausing when hurried footsteps approached.

Gwen fished the forgotten phone from the sink, spared the black cat with its eerie topaz eyes barely a glance as she turned to retrace her steps to the living room. She paid no notice to the swing, strangely stationary in the face of the steady winds blowing in off the ocean. She didn't register the footsteps, small and light, that pressed into the frost-covered ground beyond the swing, crept forward and faded almost as quickly as they appeared. She noticed none of these things, least of all the delicate imprint of the hand in the foggy pane of glass. "I found it, Gilly," Gwen called as the aged floorboards creaked beneath her socked feet in the hallway. "You better be underneath the covers by the time I get there. Petal needs her beauty sleep."

The black cat's fur bristled, and it hissed in warning at the unseen entity before it leapt from the window ledge, disappeared into the moonlit night.

When Sheridan finally emerged from her bedroom the next morning and made her way downstairs, she looked just as tired as Gwen felt. "You look like you got even less sleep than me."

Sheridan frowned, lifted an absent hand to her short blond curls. "That bad?"

Gwen leveled her friend with an appraising look, took in the dark smudges that made her cheekbones appear hollowed, the dullness lingering in her fatigued blue eyes, delivered her verdict in a half-truth. "Nothing some foundation and a little concealer won't fix. Relax. Your hair looks fine. You look fine."

Sheridan lifted a disbelieving brow.

"A little tired," Gwen amended. "You look like the mother of a newborn, which you are, so stop worrying so much about what other people think."

"I don't…it's not," Sheridan gave up on the futile attempt to fool Gwen, brought her hands up to cover her face. Her voice was muffled as she admitted a painful truth, "They're already going to be judging me for my past behavior, Gwen. Probably for marrying Luis so soon after Fancy…"

Gwen eased her struggle for words with softly spoken understanding. "You want to look your best. So do I," she admitted. "I'll work my magic if you promise to work yours?"

"Better be some powerful magic," Sheridan muttered as she followed Gwen across the living room, perched on the arm of the high-backed chair that looked out across the front lawn, the street, and the neighbor's well-kept place beyond.

Retrieving her makeup bag, Gwen returned to Sheridan's side, followed her gaze outside the window to the autumn leaves skittering down the sidewalk, the gnarled little old man with his rake across the street. "Here it is. Gwen's bag of voodoo tricks."

Sheridan's lips lifted into a smile and a small laugh pushed forward. "You better not let Luis hear you say that."

Gwen's mouth quirked into a matching smile as she withdrew a tube of mascara, carefully applied it to Sheridan's long lashes. "Speaking of Luis," she said conversationally. "Care to explain to me why he was soaking wet last night? Why the two of you were soaking wet? It was my understanding that you were taking a shower. Not him. Just what happened between the two of you?"

"Nothing." Sheridan glanced away from her. "Nothing happened," she said, picking self-consciously at the crimson sleeves of her sweater.

If her evasive non-answer weren't enough to raise Gwen's suspicions, the deep flush staining her cheeks was more than enough. "You're lying. Something did happen. Why won't you tell me?"

"He kissed me," came the soft whisper.

"You call that nothing?" Gwen recapped the mascara tube, carded through her bag for some concealer as she recalled the previous night, pushed beyond the lingering after effects of terror to catalog the rest of the scene. Luis had definitely been missing a button or two (hell, all of them), and Sheridan… "Must have been one helluva kiss."

"Don't make it more than it was." Sheridan's voice held a wealth of sadness. "He kissed me. That doesn't mean my happily ever after is around the corner. He could barely stand to look at me this morning." Tears gathered but stubbornly refused to fall from her blue eyes. "He didn't even touch Bella. Sometimes, I wonder if he'd be happier if…"

Horrified with Sheridan's insinuation, Gwen swallowed back her own emotions, because she'd felt the same way, with Sarah. She'd often wondered if Ethan would wish their little girl out of existence if possible, if it meant there'd be no more obstacles between him and Theresa. If it meant he could pretend they had never happened. Then Sarah'd been gone, and Gwen had decided even Ethan couldn't be that callous. Could Luis? "Luis's armor might be a little tarnished, but I refuse to believe," she broke off, shaking her head. "He doesn't even believe in abortion, Sher."

Sheridan swallowed, blinked hard against the threatening tears as she gazed blankly out the window. "No. But if I'd lost her, that night in the hospital. If we'd both…if Dr. Montgomery hadn't been able to save either one of us, Gwen, then maybe he wouldn't be so unhappy."

"Don't say that," Gwen grabbed Sheridan's chin, forced her to look into her eyes as the tears spilled over, streaked down her cheeks. "Don't," she pleaded. "Luis is unhappy because of Luis. Not because of you, not because of that baby."

"Nice try," Sheridan attempted a smile, gently pulled back from Gwen's sure grip. Sniffling, she nodded to Gwen's makeup bag. "You got a white rabbit in that bag of tricks? Our appointment's at 9. I don't want to frighten Marty's new principal to death."

Gwen sighed, let herself be swayed by Sheridan's efforts to sweep their entire conversation under the rug and allowed her friend the opportunity to regain her composure as she helped her paint another protective mask on her pretty face.

"Marty," Gwen groaned as she gave the unwieldy twin mattress another shove up the stairs. "This only works if you help."

Marty scowled down at her from his higher vantage point. "I don't know why you're even bothering. It's not like she's going to actually sleep in it."

It was the most words the boy had strung together since Gwen had marched herself up the stairs with Luis's and Sheridan's leaving and ventured into the No Man's Land that was the attic, mounting the cobweb-lined steps and peering into Marty's chosen venue of escape from his family's troubles. She didn't try to argue his point because he had a legitimate one; sleepwalking, it seemed, was a common Crane family trait, one that had manifested in Gilly, from what Sheridan had told Gwen, with Fancy's passing. "Your sister can't spend another night on that couch, Marty."

"Fine," Marty muttered. "Whatever," he shrugged dismissively before tugging in counterpoint to her forceful shove.

By the time they made it up the stairs with the mattress and down the hallway to the small room across from Bella's nursery that Gilly had claimed as her own, Gwen was out of breath (and in short supply of patience). She groaned when they heard the distinctive peal of the doorbell, followed almost immediately by an impatient series of knocks. "Marty?"

Marty's blue eyes narrowed at her in response, flicked over to Gilly happily arranging her stuffed animals and dolls in a semi-circle around Patrick, then rolled in annoyance. "Please. Send me to my room."

"Being grounded isn't as fun an experience if you get to pick your punishment," Gwen reminded him with a sweetly sly smile. "Please answer the door before our visitor beats the door in."

Gilly hummed to herself as she played, completely oblivious to the fact that she wasn't alone until Gwen confronted her with a very important question.

"Princess sheets or polka dots?"

Gilly bit her pouty pink lip in consideration. "Tinkerbell."

Gwen frowned as she continued to sift through the box containing all of the little girl's bedding. "I don't see…"

"Aunt Theresa!" Gilly exclaimed suddenly, clambering to her feet and racing toward their visitor.

Behind his aunt, Marty glowered, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Luis isn't here," Gwen straightened, lifted a hand to her hair, which she was sure was sorely in need of a brush. Theresa's hair, on the other hand, was perfect and shiny in its elaborate twist, complete with shiny, jeweled barrettes.

"I know," Theresa revealed, smiling down at Gilly as she hugged her back.

"I'm out of here," Marty announced.

Gwen didn't try to stop him; she only wished she could do the same, but in a room full of children, someone had to be the adult.

"Aunt Theresa," Gilly beamed. "I want to show you my new room."

"In a little bit, Sweetie," Theresa promised. "I need to talk with Gwen about something important."

"We won't be long," Gwen told the little girl when she looked up at her with her big brown eyes. "Patrick looks like he's getting a little lonely over there. He already knows Petal, but it looks like you need to introduce him to the rest of your friends."

"Okay, I guess," Gilly agreed reluctantly. "But hurry. The tea party starts in ten minutes." She grabbed Theresa's hand between both of her small ones. "Aunt Theresa, you're invited too."

Gwen followed Theresa out of the room, pulled the door shut behind her. Her personal feelings for Theresa aside, there really wasn't any reason the child's feelings for her aunt needed to be tarnished, and she knew, with their tumultuous history, any conversation between the two of them had the potential to descend into ugliness. "I mean it, Theresa. Make it quick. Bella's down for a nap, and Luis and Sheridan are due home any minute. Not to mention I have an interview later this afternoon."

Theresa glanced up and down the hallway. "Which one's the baby's nursery?"

Gwen frowned at the petite brunette in irritation. "You're standing in front of it. Seriously, Theresa," she sighed when Theresa pushed the door to Bella's room open, walked inside. "What do you want?" The sunlight filtering in through the cracks in the drawn curtains caught the large diamond ring on Theresa's finger as she gripped the rails of Bella's crib, and Gwen studied the reflection rather than meet the other woman's eyes.

"She doesn't really look like Luis," Theresa remarked.

Gwen didn't care for the insinuation in Theresa's tone, but she refrained from comment in a desperate attempt to take the high road. She nearly bit her tongue in half with her former (current?) adversary's next words.

"You know you'll never work in this town again. Nobody in Harmony is fool enough to hire you." Theresa traced a finger down the bridge of Bella's delicate nose, stilling as the tiny infant's thick dark lashes fluttered.

"Is that what you came here for?" Gwen hissed. "To threaten me?"

Theresa's dark eyes glittered with indignation. "I'm not threatening you. I'm only telling you the truth."

"Get out," Gwen grit out.

"It's hardly your place to order me out of my brother's home," Theresa threw her head back haughtily, secure in her convictions and perhaps rightly so.

"No," Gwen agreed. "It isn't. But this is Sheridan's home, too, and I'm certain I'd have her whole-hearted approval in this case. Get out. I'm not interested in playing your little games."

"I'll leave," Theresa stood down, pulled her slipping purse strap up her shoulder. "But not before I give you one more piece of advice. Leave my husband, and my children, all of them, alone. We understand each other?"

Gwen's breath caught painfully in her chest, threatened to burst from her overfull lungs. "I gave birth to him."

"You think that matters?" Theresa smirked. "I'm the one he calls Mommy," she cruelly reminded her.

"You're still a little bitch in disguise," Gwen blinked back tears.

"Not in front of the baby," Theresa chastised.

"Gwen? Aunt Theresa?" Gilly's little voice called out softly. "You're going to miss the tea party."

Gwen listened as Theresa dashed the little girl's hopes, listened to her clomping boot heels as she descended the steps and let herself out of the house.

"Gwen?" Gilly's pout came through loud and clear.

Gwen dabbed the moisture from her eyes, cleared her emotion-tightened throat. "Be right there, Gilly."

The phone call came before Gwen had even made it into the heart of town. She couldn't help but let a little bit of her disappointment and frustration bleed into her voice as she pressed for answers. "So you're telling me the position is no longer available? You haven't filled it? Oh, you're no longer interested in me as a candidate. Do you mind telling me what changed in the course of 24 hours? I'm sure Mrs. Winthrop did. No. No, really. I understand. Thanks for your consideration," Gwen ground out before abruptly ending the call. She tossed her phone into the passenger seat beside her purse and tried to focus on the road in front of her, but it was a little hard when everywhere she looked, there were signs bearing her ex-husband's name. She idly wondered if Little Ethan and Marty's shared stunt the other night with Sam's boat had done anything to damage Ethan's standing in the mayoral polls and came to the conclusion she didn't care if it meant ruffling Theresa's feathers. Ethan would be fine; somehow he'd always escaped life's sticky situations without having to admit to too much culpability. The boat incident would be much the same, she was sure. Sighing as she neared the Book Café, she flipped her blinker on. The cookies and Kool-Aid from Gilly's tea party had long since been digested, burned off in a fit of nervous energy when Sheridan had returned from hers and Luis's appointment alone, her reassuring smile forced and fake as she made her excuses, hid herself away in her bedroom. A cup of coffee wouldn't hurt, wouldn't put too much of a drain on her wallet either, so Gwen made the turn and almost had a heart attack when a little boy with a mop of reddish-brown hair appeared in front of her car. Her brakes squealed as the car came to a sudden stop, and she lifted a shaking hand to cover her eyes momentarily before shoving her door open and spilling out of vehicle. "Oh my God. Sweetie, are you okay?"

Blue eyes blinked owlishly up at her, but no sound escaped from the boy's mouth. He studied her curiously for a moment before his attention was diverted elsewhere, and the small shoulders curled in on themselves when a deep voice reprimanded him for not paying attention.

"Samuel, what have I told you about watching where you're going?"

A man trotted up to them, rest firm hands on the boy's bony shoulders, peered at Gwen from behind the lenses of his stylish glasses. "Please accept my apology since I know Sam here isn't about to give you one. He's never still, and he hardly ever watches where he's going. One of these days, he won't be so lucky. You better be glad your aunt Kay didn't see you," he leaned down to speak into the boy's ear. Straightening, he offered Gwen his hand. "I don't know if you remember me, Ms. Hotchkiss," he began.

Gwen found her voice again, flashed Reese Durkee a shaky smile as she let him fold her hand in his own. "I remember you. And this must be…"

Reese cut her off uncomfortably before she could speak Jessica's name. "This is Sam."

"Hi, Sam," Gwen offered her hand.

The little boy looked at her, then seemed to glance up at Reese for permission. When Reese nodded, the child politely took her hand, shook it.

"Are you thirsty?" Reese suddenly asked.

Catching wind of Reese's intentions, Gwen shook her head. "You don't have to…I'm fine. Really."

Reese wouldn't take no for an answer. "It's the least Sam and I can do. Right, Sam?"

The boy tipped his head back, spoke the first words Gwen had heard him speak. "I want hot chocolate."

With the extra little nip in the October air, and the day she'd already had, hot chocolate sounded heavenly to Gwen. "Let me just get my purse."

Barely a minute later, Sam scampered inside while Reese held the door open for them both and immediately made his way to the back of the store where a cozy little children's reading nook was set up, complete with kiddie-size stools and a table piled high with books. Two little boys with piercing dark eyes looked up as one and grinned a welcome to their new arrival, making room for Sam to seat himself between them.

Gwen would recognize that Lopez-Fitzgerald smile anywhere, and she and Reese had barely been seated before the boys' mother arrived at their table, her smile guarded but much more agreeable than her sister's superior smirk. "What can I get you?"

"Afternoon, Paloma," Reese greeted. "Three hot chocolates, please."

Gwen leaned back in her seat, glanced around at their surroundings. "This place is a lot different than I remember."

"Paloma and Noah made some changes when they took over the place," Reese agreed.

There were still books, everywhere, but there were more little reading nooks like the one Sam and his cousins were enjoying, and the establishment as a whole, Gwen thought, was more kid-friendly. Deep-seated, comfy armchairs for adults were also in abundance, strategically placed throughout the place, and there was a bank of computers atop a circular table toward the back of the store. There was even a tiny platform that looked to serve as a stage of sorts. The color scheme was rich and vibrant, yet still very homey, and the expanded menu…well, if the aromas enticing her olfactory senses were anything to go by, this new version of the Book Café had much more to offer than blueberry muffins and buttery scones. There was barely a trace of Beth Wallace anywhere, and Gwen couldn't have been happier. She smiled at Paloma when the young woman carefully set her hot chocolate in front of her, only to receive a polite nod in return. "Thank you, Reese," she murmured after taking a sip. "I needed this. It's been a very long day."

Reese's expression was kind, understanding.

Gwen realized even he was aware just how unwelcome her return to Harmony was, and she was, quite honestly, amazed at how nice he was being to her. She even commented on it.

Reese just shrugged. "People make mistakes. In my experience, nobody's all good or bad."

"I've made more than my fair share."

"Doesn't mean you don't deserve a second shot," Reese told her.

Gwen took his words to heart, somewhat disbelieving that he could still hold firm to that belief when his own generosity had been so abused, time and time again, if secondhand information could be trusted. The Bennett sisters, she knew, had not left his heart unscathed, but here he was, offering her encouraging words on second chances. "If only everyone felt the same way," she sighed. "Theresa's right. No one's going to hire me."

Reese's blue eyes lit up behind the lenses of his glasses. "I don't know if I agree completely with that statement. I might know someone."

"This someone must not know Theresa."

Reese's lips twitched in response to Gwen's dramatic pronouncement. "Don't be too sure of that."

"Does this person believe in second chances?" Gwen asked, taking another long sip of her cocoa.

"And third," Reese lifted his own mug to his mouth. "And fourth. I can call her if you'd like," he offered.

Gwen placed her mug on the table between them, chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip, before blurting out her consent. "Go ahead."

The Book Café wasn't the only place that had changed in Gwen's absence from Harmony. Grace Bennett's quaint little antique shop had also undergone a makeover. It was very much bohemian chic with little touches of understated elegance everywhere, worlds apart from the attached Bed and Breakfast, yet strangely complimentary. Gwen's eyes were drawn to a display of handmade jewelry, to an antique brass necklace bearing a dragonfly pendant in particular. The late afternoon sun caught the amethyst stone as it rested in her palm, painted a rainbow reflection that sparkled and shone.

"Some say dragonflies symbolize change and renewal. Maria prefers to think they're magic."

"And you?" Gwen questioned with a slight smile. "What do you think?"

"I think they make pretty jewelry," Kay smiled back at her. "Maybe they're good luck," she shrugged. "Maybe they're not."

Gwen let go of the necklace and it swung gently back and forth like a pendulum. Her fingertips strayed to the zipper of her purse, played with the small tab there as she discreetly studied Sam Bennett's eldest daughter, Ethan's half-sister. The dark waves of her hair were loose around her pretty face, sun-kissed. Her shoulders were slender and straight, confident, underneath the heavy knit of the charcoal sweater that embraced them. Her blue eyes were clear, possessing a newfound maturity that had previously been lacking, unencumbered by the judgment that always seemed to meet Gwen's gaze these days. She felt herself relax, in small increments, until she found her voice again. "You know why I'm here."

Kay nodded, moved behind the small counter and its display of various Halloween decorations, both subtle and over the top. "Reese called." She opened a small drawer, withdrew a thin sheaf of papers, extended them to Gwen.

Gwen felt her stomach drop as she scanned the application, didn't notice immediately that Kay had moved beyond the counter to stand by her side. She looked up in surprise when she realized Kay was speaking.

"Don't worry about that," Kay indicated the papers in Gwen's unsteady hands. "It's just a formality. The job's yours."

"That's it?" Gwen asked in disbelief. "No interview? No background check?"

Kay's amused smirk wasn't mocking or unkind, simply knowing. "Your past indiscretions are a matter of public record. You've never pretended to be what you're not. That's enough for me. Besides, I could use the help around here. Maria's always been a handful. Add Sam, and it's a recipe for potential disaster."

Her natural curiosity piqued, Gwen couldn't resist comment. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

"You didn't know already?" Kay's lips twisted with frustration. "I assumed Luis would have said something in front of you by now."

"Luis and I don't exactly see eye to eye," Gwen dryly pointed out the obvious. When Kay's blue eyes twinkled humorously in response, Gwen felt an instant kindred bond of sorts with the younger woman.

"When Jess checked herself out of rehab the last time, custody of Sam reverted to me since she and Reese weren't married," Kay divulged. "Sam and Reese are living with me and Maria. Reese is the only father figure Sam has ever known, so I couldn't separate them, and it's not like Miguel is in the picture anymore," she explained further.

Gwen spoke before she could stop herself. "I thought you two were happy."

"I did, too," Kay sighed, pushing the bracelets on her wrists back, along with her sleeves as she knelt to lift a box full of different odds and ends off of the floor. She wound a strand of bright red ribbon peeking over the box's edge around her pinky.

"What happened?" Gwen breathed.

"Long story short?" Kay posed, and Gwen nodded. "It started and ended with Charity. I was naïve to think Miguel had ever gotten over her."

"I've been there," Gwen commiserated softly. "Only mine started and ended with Theresa." She took the box Kay offered her into her arms. "And it's still not over."

Kay's brow arched in curiosity.

"Not like it's news, but she's determined to run me back out of town, promised me I'd never work here again."

"Well, won't she be surprised?" Kay grinned back at her as she stooped to grab another box of craft supplies. She paused when she heard the telltale noise of impatient feet stomping up the steps of the store's side entrance.

"Customers?" Gwen guessed.

Kay laughed. "Not paying, anyway. A couple of freeloaders. Follow me," she instructed, "and I'll make the introductions."

Wordlessly, Gwen did as she asked.

The freeloaders had turned out to be Kay's own daughter Maria and Endora Lenox, home from school, and Kay had delivered upon her promise, introducing Gwen to both girls.

Coltish and obviously still at odds with her changing body, Maria Lopez-Fitzgerald played down her femininity with a loose, baggy purple Harmony Hellcats hoodie and comfortably shabby jeans. Her sneakers looked like they had seen better days, and her long dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, strands of rebellious fuscia woven throughout its base. Heavy mascara accentuated her thick lashes and pale lip gloss smudged her full lips. She was no longer a child, but she wasn't yet a woman, and her adolescent struggles were clearly evident in all her contradictions.

In the manner of most teenagers, Maria hadn't said much, but Endora had said even less, said nothing, choosing instead to smile shyly in acknowledgment at Gwen when she spoke.

"Look at you two."

The smaller girl wore her pale blond hair soft and straight down the middle of her back, with just the barest wisp of bangs brushing against her forehead. Her sweater was blush in color, pretty and delicate against her leggings. Her youthful face was free of makeup, and her blue eyes brimming with controlled mischief and untold knowledge.

That preternatural stare made her silence all the more baffling to Gwen, and she commented on it later, when Kay had closed the shop to new customers, led her into the main lobby of the Bed and Breakfast and left Maria and Endora to their own devices. "Do you think she can't talk?"

Kay considered her question for a moment, answered, "I think, for Endora, it's a choice. Words aren't always heard."

She definitely had a point, Gwen thought. Words weren't always heard. Case in point, Luis and Marty. She wondered if the boy had descended yet from his attic safeguard to face his father this evening. "You're right," she agreed. "Sometimes they even get in the way. Too bad Theresa doesn't feel the same," she muttered beneath her breath. She shook her head when Kay's lips curled upward, chagrined when she realized the other woman had heard her. "What?"

"Hiring you is definitely going to be worth all the hell coming my way." Standing slightly on tiptoe, Kay reached over the wooden ledge of the Bed and Breakfast's main desk, pressed the little tap bell insistently. "I'm guessing you're ready to get out from under Luis's roof?"

"You'd be guessing correctly," Gwen murmured, tucking a loose strand of blond hair back behind her ear as a vaguely familiar male appeared.

"Uncle Hank here can help you with that." Kay gave her a little wave as she backed away, tossed a significant glance her uncle's way. "We don't open until 10 on the weekends. Sleep in. You look like you need it."

"Ignore my niece."

Gwen turned to find Hank Bennett regarding her with open curiosity. "Why would I do a thing like that?"

"Because there's not a tactful bone in her body," Hank easily replied. "There's nothing wrong with the way you look."

The look he gave her almost convinced Gwen, but she knew his type, the self-professed charmer, and she wasn't buying what he was selling. "Looks like you have the opposite problem."

"Yeah?" Hank grinned at her, his brown eyes twinkling with ill-concealed humor. "What's that?"

"There's not a truthful bone in your body." Gwen barely refrained from rolling her eyes when his grin grew even wider.

"Not that this little exchange of ours isn't entertaining," Hank retorted, "but I'm assuming you're interested in renting out a room."

He looked completely unsurprised to see her, thanks, no doubt, to Luis, but Gwen decided to table her reservations and resentment at Sheridan's husband's interference in her life in favor of spending the night in a bed of her own. She took her wallet out of her purse, retrieved the credit card with the lowest outstanding balance on it.

"How long will you be staying with us?" Hank asked as he swiped her card through the reader, tapped out a few letters on the keyboard in front of him. When she didn't say anything right away, he explained himself. "I need to know whether to put you in one of our extended stay rooms or not. So. How long?"

Gwen snapped her wallet shut, zipped her purse back up when he handed her back her card, along with a single silver key on a ring, shocked him and herself with her answer. "Indefinitely."

So...sorry for the long wait between chapters.

I wanted to give you the most for your reading pleasure. ;)

Seriously, I wanted to make sure to give you guys something more substantial to sink your teeth into, and I hope this chapter meets that goal.

Even though little of this chapter actually takes place at The House, a lot is going on, with Gwen, with Gilly and Marty, with Sher and Luis.

How did you like the reintroductions of Paloma, Reese, and Kay?

Paloma's appearance was more like a cameo in this chapter, so I'll understand if you don't have much to say about her role, but Reese and Kay and the kids tangled up in their lives...what did you think about that?

Wicca, I hope this answers part of your questions about Kay, Endora, and Tabby's involvement in this fic. Tabby's involvement will be a little bit more limited than the other two, but she'll still play her part.

A few other things of note...

Poor Gilly, huh? First appearances can sometimes be deceiving. She's not the total brat some of you were thinking she was, is she? Poor little girl misses her mommy.

Sher thinks Luis would be happier if she and baby Bella weren't around anymore. What are your thoughts on that? Do you call nonsense or is there a kernel of truth there?

You didn't think I'd pass up the opportunity to have Theresa and Gwen butt heads, did you? ;)

Lost in there might have been the little reveal that Ethan is running for Mayor of Harmony? Your thoughts? Methinks, the man was destined for politics, lol.

What about Daddy Reese? And Noah and Paloma running the Book Cafe?

Kay and Gwen? A match made in Heaven? Or Hell on Heels? LOL! I happen to think the two share much in common, and a bond forming between the two of them wouldn't be preposterous.

Surprising or not about Migs or Jess?

And finally...good ole Hank. Already getting underneath Gwen's skin.

Your thoughts and feedback are much appreciated and loved.

Thanks so much for reading!

P.S. There are lots of different ways to be haunted; just keep that in mind.