Part 2
Revelations

For a few months, they were able to carry on as if nothing had happened. Most of the changes were subtle. He worried a bit more when she was on Away Team missions, but he kept that to himself. She didn't always tell him quite how tired she was at the end of the day. Every so often, he let her sleep through breakfast. She did her best not to disturb him when muscle cramps woke her in the middle of the night.

At first, Jean-Luc had been angry that she had kept her symptoms hidden from him for so long - then he turned the anger to himself for not noticing.

He tried to curb his emotions by reading everything there was on Khdryan's Disease. The one bright spot he could find was that the symptoms of Khdryan's were far less severe than most similar diseases. Although it manifested weakness in the extremities, it primarily affected the heart and lungs, ultimately making them too weak to function. The progression was slow, but the end was relatively quick and painless.

He also investigated every avenue of research he could think of, only to find that Beverly had already been there. She was furious to learn of his efforts, insisting that she could take care of it herself. He spent considerable time convincing her that he wasn't going to be an idle bystander in all of this. They were finally able to compromise by agreeing that she would handle the medical aspects while he would be responsible for the more domestic side.

Even with their agreement, he didn't have any better luck getting her to slow down than he ever had before.

They told only one other person about the situation and only because medical protocol demanded it. Mariah Duvall, an excellent ship's counselor, was quickly becoming a good friend, but she wasn't Deanna and for the first time, Beverly was glad that Will's command of the Saò Paulo had included a ship's counselor position for Deanna. She missed her friends terribly, but there was no way she could have gotten this far with Deanna as her counselor. Mariah's more neutral perspective was just what Beverly needed to deal with this.

Selar and Alyssa collaborated to keep the situation quiet so that the medical staff wouldn't find out and helped create a treatment plan that interfered the least with Beverly's schedule.

And the treatments were working. Some days, Beverly even forgot she was sick.

oxo

She had been working herself too hard. It was really a no-win situation. The disease took so much out of her, yet she stubbornly refused to rest, determined not to let it rule her life.

Now Beverly stood in front of the holodeck. She was tired, but she hadn't missed a dancing date with Data yet, and she wasn't going to do it now. With a small sigh, Beverly tapped the keypad, and the doors hissed open.

An hour later, she was glad she had pushed through her initial fatigue. Dancing was the second most relaxing, fulfilling, exhausting thing she did. She preferred Jean-Luc as a partner for the other one.

"You know, Data," she said wiping her face, "you're the worst and the best kind of dance partner."

"I do not understand, Doc - Beverly." For some reason, it was still difficult for the android to adjust his programming to treat her as a friend off duty and as a superior officer while on duty. The addition of his emotion chip seemed to add to his confusion.

Beverly smiled at the correction. "You're the worst because you pick up every step the first time. That kind of 'perfection' can be really annoying. On the other hand, you're the best because you have the infinite patience to work with me no matter how long it takes me to learn." She kissed his cheek, much to his surprise. "Come on, let's try that last combination again."

The music started on cue. Their movements were fluid and easy, the steps crisp and precise.

Then it happened.

One minute, Beverly was executing a series of perfect spins, the next she was crashing to the floor. Data hurried to kneel at her side. She sat up, tentatively massaging her left leg. Numbness was radiating from her toes up to mid-calf - and moving higher. "Damn it, not this," she muttered.

"Are you all right?" Data asked solicitously.

"Fine. Perfect. Just great."

Sarcasm was something Data had begun to understand, and he acknowledged Beverly's remarks as an exceptionally good example. However, recognizing it and knowing how to respond were very different things. He opted for a straightforward approach. "Are you well enough to continue?"

"I'm not sure. Could you give me a hand, please?" Data pulled her to her feet, but once upright, it was clear the leg would not support her. He ordered a bench so she could sit down.

"You are obviously injured. Shall I call Sickbay?"

"No!" She winced as it came out more sharply than she intended. Taking a slow breath, she continued. "No, I just need to get to my quarters, but I'd rather wait to get some of the feeling back so that I don't have to go hobbling through the ship."

After a moment's consideration, Data said, "Computer, two for site-to-site transport to Dr. Picard's quarters." Beverly smiled gratefully as he helped her up once again. "Initiate sequence, authorization Data Alpha Omega 2."

oxo

Jean-Luc was going over reports, and Renee was playing on the floor when the whine of a transporter beam startled them both. Jean-Luc was on his feet and around the desk before Beverly and Data finished materializing.

"What happened?" he demanded as Data assisted her to the couch.

"Beverly fell on the holodeck. Her leg is injured, but she did not wish to go to Sickbay."

"I'm not injured, it's just a little numb," she insisted.

"So numb that you can't even stand on it," Jean-Luc observed, far from placated by her clarification. "Damn it, Beverly, why won't you..."

Fire blazed in her eyes as she cut him off with a sharp look then nodded toward Renee. She fought to keep her voice even as she said, "Sweetheart, could you do me a favor? I left some things on the holodeck. Would you go with Data and get them for me, please?"

"Okay, Mama," the little girl replied, eager for the small adventure.

"Captain, I could easily retrieve the items myself," Data offered.

Jean-Luc sighed and turned to his first officer. "Please do us both a favor and take Renee with you. I need to... discuss something with Beverly, and it would be better if she weren't here."

Renee looked from her mother to her father and back again. "They're gonna get loud. Usually, I hafta go to my room, but I'd rather go to the holodeck."

"Actually, Data, if it wouldn't interfere with any other plans, could you watch her for awhile?" Beverly asked.

"It would be my pleasure."

"Would you like to have Data take you to dinner in Ten Forward?"

"Can I have anything I want?" Renee's eyes glowed at the prospect.

"Why don't you ask Guinan to help you pick something?" her father suggested.

"Come on, Uncle Data," she said, taking his hand. "I'm hungry!"

Jean-Luc watched the pair leave, adding his daughter's matter-of-fact attitude toward the impending argument to his list of worries. Turning back to Beverly, his furious tirade was instantly forgotten when he saw she was crying.

She hadn't cried since the day she told him about her condition.

He held her just as he had on that day. Something more than a minor accident on the holodeck had brought this on. As her sobs eased, he brushed a wisp of hair off her damp cheek.

"Tell me," he murmured.

"It's beginning to take things away from me. Logically, medically I knew it would happen. But why did it have to start with my dancing?"

The anguish in her voice tore at his heart. "I know how much you love it, but - "

"Do you know why I dance?" she interrupted. He shook his head, puzzled by the abrupt question. "Because, for the longest time, it was the only thing I had." She sat up so that she could look at him. "After the disaster on Arveda, there wasn't much time for anything but staying alive. I was either helping Nana or sleeping simply because I was exhausted. When the worst was over and things sort of leveled out, I was always alone because I was afraid to make friends." She smiled faintly and squeezed his hand. "I believe you and I covered that subject. Anyway, dancing was something I could do all by myself. I could make the music, create the steps, the movements. Dancing was the only thing that made me feel like I was alive."

She talked so rarely about her past, and Jean-Luc was stunned by the intensity of emotion behind her revelation. No matter what he thought of his own childhood, his had been easy compared to Beverly's.

He tried to picture her as a little girl. Did she look like Renee but without the smiles or the laughter? What must it have been like for such a young child to see so many people die, including her mother?

She had said dancing made her feel alive. He knew from his own experience that there was a vast difference between living and merely existing.

"You don't have to stop dancing altogether. You just need to cut back. Don't push yourself until you collapse."

She was off the couch in a flash, unable to sit still. "But that means the disease wins! It controls my life!" Although the numbness had receded, her leg was still weak, so she braced herself on the back of a chair.

Jean-Luc knew she was spoiling for a fight, but he wasn't willing to let her expend any precious energy in a pointless argument. Silently he moved toward her. She tensed at his approach, squaring her stance, trying not to fall over as she relaxed her grip on the chair. He merely reached past her to swivel the chair around. Startled by the unexpected move, Beverly offered no resistance as he pushed her gently into the chair.

Kneeling before her, he said quietly but firmly, "You are in control, but going on like nothing has happened means the disease will advance faster. That cheats you out of time. It cheats the rest of us, too. Beverly, is an extra few minutes of dancing worth losing days that you could be spending with Renee?"

"Aren't I losing time with you as well?" she asked quietly.

He brushed away her tears. "My wonderful Beverly... I have over thirty years of memories. Do I want more? God, yes; but Renee needs her mother. And you need her." Kissing her gently, he added, "Perhaps it's time you taught her to dance. And don't just tell her why you love it, tell her why you do it. Someday, she'll need to know that sort of thing."

The tears started again as she hugged him. "I'll do it, but only if you come with us. I want to make lots of memories for both of you."

Jean-Luc held her tightly for several minutes, trying desperately not to think about the time when he would have only memories of her. "You've had a busy day," he said at last, "and you need to rest. Renee gets up awfully early, you know."

With a purposely dramatic sigh, she let him help her into the other room.

Once she had bathed and changed, she announced that she was hungry, and in queenly fashion, allowed him to serve it to her in bed. Afterwards, Jean-Luc left her reading there and went looking for their daughter.

oxo

The incident on the holodeck made Beverly and Jean-Luc aware that they had some very good friends who deserved to know what was happening so, with Mariah's help, they broke the news to Data and Geordi.

It wasn't easy, but other conversations would be harder.

oxo

Thanks to a call from Admiral Nechayev, Jean-Luc had missed dinner, and judging from the dimness as he entered the cabin, the report he had had to write also caused him to miss seeing both Renee and Beverly before they had gone to bed.

Stopping by his daughter's room to kiss her good night, he was surprised to find Beverly in the chair next to the bed.

"What's going on?" he asked softly. "Is Renee sick?"

Beverly shook her head wearily as she rose to her feet and crossed to him. "I wish it were that simple."

He wrapped his arms around her automatically as she buried her face in his neck. "What happened?"

There was a long silence before she raised her head. "Have you eaten?"

"I had something while I was working on that report." Even in the dim light he could see the dark smudges forming under her eyes. "Why don't we get ready for bed, then you can tell me what happened."

Beverly didn't answer but turned toward the bedroom, pulling off her robe.

A few minutes later Jean-Luc slid under the covers, and she immediately moved into his arms, resting her head on his chest. "Comfortable?" he asked, stroking her hair. Beverly nodded in response. "Okay, talk."

"Well," she sighed, "the short version is I was late picking her up, so she was a bit cranky about that. Then we had a long discussion about picking up her toys. She didn't want to eat dinner, she wanted me to read to her. I was so tired, I didn't want to do anything. She whined, and I snapped at her. She cried, I cried." Beverly hesitated, knowing this would not go over well. "Then I told her I'm sick."

She felt his arms tighten around her slightly. "Don't you think that was something we should have done together?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry, but it didn't work out that way. It was what needed to be done at the time. I just told her that I was going to be tired a lot from now on and would need her help. I'm not sure exactly how much she understood, but I know I watched my baby grow up more in a few minutes than she should have to do for years."

"Our daughter is very resilient. She..."

"She shouldn't have to be!" Abruptly she rolled away from him. She sat up but didn't turn to look at him. "She's too young to have to go through this. I know what it's like to watch a parent die."

He watched her struggle for control, the sheets clenched tightly in her fists. After a long moment, Jean-Luc sat up and slid across the bed behind her. Slipping his arm around her waist, he drew her back against his chest and rested his chin on her shoulder. He remained silent as he waited for some of the tension to ease from her.

"It won't be the same," he began softly. "When your mother got sick, she didn't have time to make sure you understood everything or to create special memories. Your grandmother didn't have time to make you feel secure and loved. Felisa didn't do anything wrong, but it was all she could do to keep you and herself alive." He tenderly brushed a lock of hair off her face and kissed her temple. "I promise you, Renee won't go through that. She'll have me. She'll have Wesley and Marie. She'll have Deanna, Will and Luke. She'll have Data and Geordi and Alyssa and Mariah and lots of other people who love her and will help her deal with all of this."

She nodded, letting him believe that she was mollified by his assertions. In truth, they had merely served to make her aware of another concern. 'My darling Jean-Luc,' she thought to herself, 'who's going to take care of you?'

"And don't worry about me," he said knowing quite well how her mind worked, "I'll have Renee and all those people, too."

"Only if you let them in." The ghost of a smile flashed across her face as she caught his smothered sigh. "You've opened up so much these last few years, Jean-Luc -"

"Because of you and Renee," he interrupted huskily.

"That's my point. Don't let what's happening to me stop that. Please let Will and Deanna and the others help you." She turned to face him. "Promise me." Her voice was even, but the pleading in her eyes told him how much this meant to her.

"I promise," he vowed solemnly.

"You've never broken a promise to me - please don't start with this one."

His kiss sealed the pledge he had already made then he coaxed her back to lay down once again in his arms. "Why don't you get some sleep?"

"Not yet. This is one of the memories I want to make for you. The two of us here, like this, just being together."

They shared the particulars of their separate days, unconsciously keeping their voices low as though unwilling to draw attention to the warm cocoon they had created in the darkened cabin.

He was in the middle of recounting his conversation with Nechayev - a deliberately dull recitation in hopes of getting her to sleep - when she suddenly rose up on an elbow to look at him.

"Jean-Luc, what do you think Renee will look like when she's grown up?"

"What?" He was confused by the abrupt change of subject... and concerned by the path her thoughts seemed to be taking.

"Tonight, when I was sitting by her bed, I was thinking about how much I was going to be missing. I can imagine most of the milestones, but I can't picture her. You know, the little things, like... will her hair stay this shade of red or get darker? Will she be tall like me or tiny like Nana? Will she have the grace of a dancer or the confidence of a starship captain? Will she..."

"Beverly, please," he broke in, "don't do this to yourself."

"It's alright." Her hand rubbed lightly, reassuringly over his heart. "I'm not upset, really I'm not. I'm just curious." Beverly lay back down with a sigh. "I just wish I could see her."

oxo

Two months later

Even with her knowledge of every available shortcut on the Enterprise, it still took Deanna Riker twice as long as necessary to reach her destination. She and Will had left the Enterprise two years ago, yet much of the crew remained unchanged. Deanna had been stopped several times and barely been able to break away with promises to catch up with everyone soon. Rounding the last corner, she was relieved to find the corridor empty. A door hissed open, and she saw Mariah Duvall step out of the Picards' quarters.

"...better sooner than later, Beverly," she was saying. Mariah looked up as Deanna drew closer. "And no time like the present."

"But, Mariah - " Beverly started only to be cut off.

"No 'buts'. She'd know anyway." Turning, she smiled. "Deanna, it's good to see you. And congratulations. I'm sorry I can't stay, but I have another appointment in a few minutes. You two have a good long talk."

Puzzled by Mariah's cryptic parting words, Deanna looked at Beverly. There was a sadness about her friend that she didn't have time to latch on to because it was quickly overridden by pleasure and joy.

"Deanna, it is good to see you! And why didn't you tell me you and Will were having another baby?" After a quick hug, Beverly pulled her into the room. "Can I get you something? When did you get here? Where are Will and Luke?"

Deanna laughed, hardly knowing where to start answering the questions fired at her. "It's good to see you, too, Beverly." She lowered herself gingerly onto the sofa. "First, let me put your doctor's curiosity to rest. I didn't say anything because we wanted it to be a surprise. I'm five and half months along, and everything is fine."

Both women silently thought back to the way they had been able to share their last pregnancies. Renee was two months younger than Luke Riker - who was named for his godfather. It had helped both of them immensely to have someone to commiserate with, a feeling their husbands had shared whole-heartedly.

With a faint sigh, Deanna returned to the list of questions before any more could be asked. "We arrived about ten minutes ago. Jean-Luc and Renee met us in the shuttle bay. They sent me here, and the four of them disappeared to who knows where." She smiled at the mental image of the two men trying to herd small children, who wouldn't follow orders, in the proper direction. "I don't know which surprised me more, that you weren't with them, or that you weren't in Sickbay." She felt as much as saw the shadow cross the doctor's face.

Something wasn't right.

Beverly rose and moved to the replicator but didn't order anything. She fidgeted as though uncertain of what to do with her hands. "I'm not in Sickbay because I'm on leave. I don't want to miss a minute of your visit. Jean-Luc and Will think being on the bridge is a vacation, but I want to spend time with you and the children."

The uncharacteristic nervousness had not gone unnoticed. Deanna put on her best counselor's face as she said, "Okay, now tell me the truth."

"Sometimes I really hate it when you go and get empathic on me," Beverly gibed. It was an old line, a running joke between friends. This time, it wasn't even worth a smile. Beverly sighed and braced herself. "The truth. Your visit was really just a convenient excuse. By the end of the week, I'll no longer be Chief Medical Officer on the Enterprise. In fact, once Headquarters receives the communiqué, I'll be officially retired from Starfleet."

"Why? What's happened?" Deanna shivered slightly as she again sensed sadness - and anger - and fear - from her friend. Mariah's odd choice of words came back to her. '...another appointment...' 'She'd know anyway.' The counselor realized she had caught the end of a therapy session... and felt a sickening sense of what was to come.

"Because I'm dying."

Simple and unadorned, the statement hung heavily in the air.

Deanna's eyes filled with tears. "Beverly, no!"

Beverly swiftly returned to the couch and hugged her friend. "Please don't cry, Deanna." It wasn't very convincing since her own voice cracked.

The counselor pulled away in surprise. "My dearest friend has just told me she's dying, and I'm not supposed to cry?"

"No, you're supposed to yell. Insist there has to be something that can be done. Deny that it's true all together. That's how everyone else has reacted." Again, the attempt at humor fell short, but it did provide a little time for the reality of the situation to sink in. "Deanna, you're one of the few to know right now. Selar and Alyssa have known from the beginning. The senior staff knows. I'm hoping Jean-Luc is telling Will. At least I'm guessing that's why he sent you to see me alone." She laughed ruefully. "Silly, isn't it? Our two closest friends and neither of us could face both of you together." Her face clouded again. "It won't be easy to tell Worf either. I hate the idea of sending this kind of news in a letter or even over sub-space... especially after Jadzia."

"Will and I are stopping at DS9 for a couple of days after we leave here. Would you like us to tell him? I know you'd rather do it yourself, but we could at least do it in person."

"I'll talk to Jean-Luc and see what he wants to do."

"What about Wesley?"

"He showed up here the day after I told Jean-Luc. On some level he already knew, that's why he came. He's made a point of dropping in every few weeks since then." Her face twisted in a mock grimace. "Too bad I have to be terminal to see my son."

Deanna's gasped softly. "Beverly, don't say that."

"Sorry, Mariah's pretty used to my dark humor by now." She sighed. "I'll have to tell the rest of my staff, since I can't retire without a reason. It will be all over the ship in half an hour." The discomfort at the prospect was clear on her face. "That's what I don't want to deal with. I hate the idea of all those pitying looks following me around."

"It won't be pity, Beverly, they care about you. You're a part of their lives. Jean-Luc may be the captain of this ship, but you are its heart and soul. You always have been."

"That's rather pretentious, don't you think? I'm just a doctor, Deanna, not a miracle worker. Hundreds of people do what I do."

"No, they don't, at least not the way you do it." Beverly still looked skeptical so Deanna tried another tack. "Remember that nasty little bout of Codorian Plague you had a few years ago? Well, the whole time you were sick, I couldn't walk down a corridor without someone stopping me to ask how you were doing. And I wasn't the only one. Will, Data, Geordi, people were even stopping the Captain to ask him! These people don't care about a doctor, they care about you. Beverly, you have touched more lives in more ways than you will ever know."

"Thanks, Deanna," Beverly said wryly. "I thought I was only going to feel guilty about leaving Jean-Luc and Renee behind. Now I have to feel guilty about leaving the entire crew!"

"How do you feel about leaving Jean-Luc?"

"Damn it, Deanna, don't 'counsel' me!" she cried pushing away from the sofa to stare out the viewport. "I don't need another therapist, I need..." Tears filled her eyes again as she turned back. "I need a friend. I'm sorry, Deanna. I dump all this on you and expect you to act like it doesn't mean anything to you."

"It's my fault, too, Beverly. It was a defense. If I go into the professional mode, then I don't have to deal with it personally."

"Professional mode. That's a good term. I did it too in the beginning. I guess that's what scares me now. Once I'm not a doctor any more, I won't have that 'professional mode' to hide in. I've never been anything but a doctor, Deanna; it's who I am. I don't know what to do if I don't have that."

Deanna went to the replicator. After ordering hot chocolate for herself and lemon tea for Beverly, she brought the cups back to the table. Settling back onto the sofa, she motioned for Beverly to join her. "How about we both get a bit professional for a moment? All you've said is that you're... dying..."

"...and, professionally speaking, some details would make it more real, right?" She paused, looking into her friend's now red-rimmed dark eyes. She saw the caring and compassion she had come to expect, but there was fear and sorrow now as well. "I know this is a lot for you, Deanna, but I'm very glad you're here."

"Me, too," Deanna replied, squeezing her hand. "We were talking about details. Does this disease have a name?"

The explanation of Khdryan's Disease took only a few minutes. They had had this conversation before, about other patients, but this time it was much more personal.

"How far has it advanced?"

"Far enough that I had problems in surgery the other day. It was a long one, I got tired and started dropping things. Luckily, only Alyssa was there, but she was worried enough to ask if she should call Selar to finish for me. I said no... but she should have done it anyway." She wiped at her face, not even trying to stop the tears.

"Beverly, that was a small incident. You were realistic enough to know it would only get worse, and you did the right thing by retiring."

"No, it was mostly foolish pride. I didn't want to be in Sickbay one day and simply fall down."

"Is that a possibility?" Deanna asked quietly.

"No... not really. As I said, despite the minor weakness and loss of some fine motor control, it primarily concentrates on the heart and lungs." The words melted away the last of her 'professional detachment', and she whispered brokenly, "Oh God, Deanna, I don't want to die!"

Deanna had no response for that except to hug her friend and cry along with her.

oxo

The children were involved in whatever imaginary adventure they had created for themselves. The two illustrious starship captains looked on with unmistakable pride of possession - a term at which their wives would most certainly have balked. Two men who, for a great many years, believed their careers were all important had learned in a very short time that they were absolutely, totally wrong. And neither of them had ever regretted being corrected.

Will Riker turned to his former commanding officer, but the words he had been about to say died unspoken. There was an odd element to Jean-Luc's smile; a haunted look that Will had never seen before. "Is something wrong, Jean-Luc?" Use of the older man's first name had been a difficult transition, even after he himself had become a captain. They were genuine, close friends now, but Will would always consider Picard to be the 'superior' officer.

Picard continued to watch the children. He spoke softly, almost absently, "Sometimes these days, it's hard to find anything that's right." The last traces of the smile faded. "Will, Beverly is... sick. God, listen to me, I can hardly say it out loud."

Will fought the sinking feeling in his stomach. 'Beverly? Sick? Doctors don't get sick,' he thought irrationally.

Jean-Luc took a deep breath. When he spoke, he was controlled - clear, precise, clinical. "She has a neuro-muscular condition called Khdryan's Disease. There's about three months left on the original year's prognosis, but she has responded well to what little treatment is available. Dr. Selar thinks the newest expectation is an extra six to nine months." His voice dropped lower, the control gone. "She's dying, Will, and I can't do anything to stop it. I can't help her." He brushed roughly at the tear that rolled down his face. "I keep thinking about all the time we wasted, time we could've been together. We should have left Starfleet when we got married! We should have been in LaBarre, making babies and making wine. This never would have happened if..."

"You can't know that," Will interrupted firmly. "Things happen planetside, too. You and Beverly could have had that house full of kids, and you could have died in that fire along with Robert. Don't start second-guessing your decisions now. Make the most of the time you do have together."

"But I need Beverly. I can't raise a child alone," he murmured brokenly, looking up at the sound of Renee's laughter. "I don't know how."

"Do you really think Beverly did with Wesley? Nobody does. You and Renee will learn together. Besides, I'm counting on you to tell me what to do when my little girl arrives in a few months."

It was just the right combination of support and humor to help dispel some of the somber mood.

"You're a captain now, Will; you're supposed to know everything already."

"Oh, I can run a starship with my eyes closed," Riker said, puffing out his chest, but he deflated just as quickly as he looked at the children, adding softly, "but parenthood is something completely different."

oxo

Beverly and Deanna had left the dark topics behind, and the two proud mothers were exchanging toddler stories when the door opened. Their laughter faded as Jean-Luc entered with Will. Without a word, Beverly rose and crossed the room into Will's embrace.

"I'm sorry seems like such a stupid thing to say," Will murmured, choking back tears as he wrapped her in a bear hug.

"Not stupid," she reassured him softly, "only unnecessary. Another hug is the best thing you can do for me." And he was more than willing to oblige.

"Where are the children?" Deanna asked belatedly, having followed Beverly's lead by hugging her former captain.

"Knowing Renee, they're probably with Data." At her husband's confirming nod, Beverly continued. "I honestly don't know who learns the most from the other. She certainly keeps his emotion chip in overdrive. I just hope that dealing with two four-year-olds doesn't send him into overload!"

oxo

"Mama, guess what?"

"What, sweetheart?"

"Me and Luke is gettin' married."

The three males at the table stopped eating, but the three females went right on as though it were an everyday announcement.

"Renee! You wasn't 'spossed to tell!" her diminutive 'fiancé' hissed. "It's 'spossed to be a se'ket!"

Fire to match her hair blazed in Renee's eyes. "You can't tell me what to do!"

The others struggled to contain their laughter as Beverly sought to diffuse the brewing argument. "Well, now that it isn't a secret any more, what are your plans? When are you getting married?"

Renee sent a triumphant smile in Luke's direction before turning to her mother. "When we're big. After we get out of the 'cademy."

Beverly's small gasp went unnoticed by the children, but the others heard it clearly. Her anguished eyes carried her thoughts as though she had spoken them - 'I won't be here.'

tbc