Chapter 15

Candle in the Window

Absence diminishes small loves and increases great ones,

As the wind blows out the candle and fans the bonfire.

~François Duc de La Rochefoucauld

*Author's Note:

This chapter is dedicated in memory of Debra Jurasus-Shriner, who passed away earlier this year. She brought the legacy of Shane and Kim back to their fans with her meticulously chronicled episode lists and taped episodes from 1984-1992. So many friendships owe their beginning to her. Debbie was a kind and generous soul. May she rest in eternal peace far beyond the foggy landscape of Cotswold with a cup of Earl Grey by a roaring fire and a respectable English gentleman at her side.

Location: LA

Inhaling deeply, Kimberly dialed the number.

"Hello?" The light and cheerful voice of her sister flowed over the line before Kim was ready. She had hoped for a few rings of preparation.

"Hi, Kay. It's me, Kimberly." She greeted hesitantly.

They hadn't spoken since the night at the Curtis's managing to dodge each other by means of co-workers, friends, and their children's activities.

"We're leaving tomorrow for London," Kimberly began when Kayla remained quiet.

"I know." She interrupted softly. "I'm driving, remember?"

"You still want to do that?" Her sister inquired a bit surprised by lack of tension present in Kayla's voice.

"Yeah," She replied-a wistful sigh escaping her lips. "But first, we need to exchange gifts."

"Oh, I know." Kim offered lightly. "Andrew and Jeannie are dying for you two to open your presents."

Kayla chuckled. "Same here."

"Well, could we come over?" Kimberly offered graciously. "Your home is much more festive than mine."

"We'd like that." Kayla answered relieved that the worst was over between them.

Kimberly and the children arrived soon after and the sisters prepared the traditional Brady oyster stew. Later, they gathered around the myriad of twinkling multi-colored lights adorning Kayla's Christmas tree as the children ripped into their packages. Once the mayhem subsided, Andrew, Jeannie, and Stephanie nestled on the denim-colored sofa as Kayla switched on A Charlie Brown Christmas.

Returning to the kitchen, Kayla seated across her sister where Kimberly had poured two warm mugs of freshly made apple cider. The two danced delicately around their issues.

"Hmmm, I think you mixed just the right proportions of rum and mulling spice in this." Kayla complemented cheerfully.

Her blue eyes sparkled in affection as the two sisters gingerly attempted to reach some sort of reconciliation. Kimberly smiled broadly looking down at her mug. Chuckling, a fond memory presented itself before them.

"Oh, you mean that I actually used ingredients other than rum for this?"

Their eyes met and the two laughed together unrestrained for the first time in a long time.

"I remember the first time I tried hot apple cider that Roman and Bo prepared." Kayla noted nostalgically.

Kimberly howled at the thought.

"Let me guess: you were drunk as a skunk after the first sip." She grinned teasingly.

"Yep! I think it was my first time!" Kayla added shaking her head.

Clutching the red and green mug and absorbing its warmth, she leaned closer to Kim,

"It was years before I would drink cider again."

A comforting stillness enveloped the two, yet the familiar lamentation accompanying the Peanuts cartoon in the other room wafted into the kitchen.

"I just don't understand Christmas, I guess? I like getting presents, and sending Christmas cards, and decorating the Christmas tree and all that, but I'm still not happy…"

Kimberly finally lifted her eyes tracing the outline of her mug. She struggled to remember a Christmas when she didn't feel such a heavy blanket of melancholy?

"I really worry about you Kay." Kimberly stated alluding to her sister staying in LA for the holidays.

"You're not suggesting Stephanie and I tag along with you?" Kayla questioned rhetorically.

"Ok, I understand that, but why not go home?" She quickly corrected.

Kayla studied her sister's expression,

"For the same reason you don't: Salem doesn't feel like home anymore."

Kimberly nodded agreeably. She slowly sipped the cider as Kayla confessed,

"It's not just that, Kimmie." Kayla's eyes bore straight into her sister. A shade of annoyance appeared over her face. "Salem hasn't felt like home for me since before Steve died."

Kim tilted her head in acknowledgement, her mug clanking against the maple stained table. Kayla's eyes drifted away as she explained,

"Steve and I…" She began softly. " We had these grand plans to take Stephanie and strike out on our own." Kayla's eyes shifted back to meet Kim's attentive gaze.

"Like Bo and Hope?" Kimberly offered compassionately.

Kayla nodded appreciatively, then looking down continued.

"I really should have done that after he died." Her voice cracked. "But I was terrified of how to build a life alone with a baby."

"I can empathize." Kimberly stated softly.

"Yeah, I guess you can." Half surprised that she hadn't thought of it beforehand.

How ironic that two sisters had faced similar situations of upheaval in their lives around the same time, yet they each chose the avenue that would have been most appropriate for the other? The bitter irony of it all taunted Kimberly. Had she continued living within the confines of a cold marriage, the children wouldn't have faced a disruption in family life, and perhaps her and Shane could have worked through their problems? The topic plunged Kimberly into a trance-like state wading through uncertainties from the past.

"Perhaps, I should have stayed?" Kimberly mumbled aloud, not realizing Kayla heard her.

Kayla eyed her sister carefully and leaned back in her chair. She hated how everything led back to him now. Though still gripping the mug as Linus clung to his blanket in the cartoon playing currently, Kayla could see a parallel between her and her niece.

"And face the prospect of him showing favoritism to Andrew against Jeannie?"

Kimberly's eyes flew open meeting her sister's conciliatory ones.

Their own family had been cursed with the burden Shawn Sr. placed on his two sons and daughters. Their father's insecurities played out by pitting his children against each other through faint praise and critical comparisons. Whether it revolved around Bo's rebellious streak to break the perfect Brady model Roman exhibited, or the simmering jealousy Kayla harbored being ignored in favor of her sister, Kimberly couldn't bear the thought of allowing a similar pattern to emerge through her children. Moreover, the destructive shroud of favoritism clouded their perspective at critical moments when one sibling attempted to counsel another. Never had it been so glaring than during that horrible year.

"Because we both know what that does to siblings." Kimberly whispered poignantly.

Kayla reached out to take Kim's hand, but Kimberly quickly cupped her hand over Kayla's to prevent further discussion. Tragically forgiveness doesn't lead to restoration of relationships when the betrayal is so deep. To point this out to her sister would be futile... and extremely painful, so Kimberly chose to remain silent. The two women stared at each other their wounds still visible. They would not venture any further down the rabbit trail. Instead, Kimberly smiled timidly.

"Heeey, let's not go ruining a perfectly lovely evening, k'ay?"

Kayla grimaced, but complied.

In an attempt to put a good spin on the situation,

"I know that I've been too harsh on Phillip and you must feel like I am judging you all over again."

Kimberly raised an eyebrow.

Despite vehemently disliking the arrogant prick, Kayla focused on Amanda's advice to drop all criticism of the movie producer, lest she drive Kim deeper into the abysmal relationship. Kayla nodded reassuringly,

"All I'm saying is that perhaps the time in London will be good for you two?"

"Oh…well…" Kimberly stammered visibly surprised by the admission. The mention of her fiancé's name was like a rush of cold water to Kim's heart. She hadn't given much conscious thought of him since he left over a week ago. The realization jolted Kimberly in a way that felt strangely serene.

"It's ok, Kay." Kimberly offered in an attempt to squelch the topic. "I appreciate your concern."

She looked away acknowledging,

"It's not like I've been myself lately."

"Actually, I think you're becoming more yourself everyday." Kayla observed encouragingly.

A spark flickered in Kim's eyes for a moment-recognition of just how true her sister's statement was. It rendered Kim speechless, so Kayla carried on.

"You know what?" Kayla implored emotionally. Kimberly shook her head negatively.

"I owe you so much." Kayla revealed.

Kimberly looked perplexed.

"This… here is my home." Kayla gestured adoringly. "What you meant by the holidays, well, you were right. Sure I miss the folks- Bo, Roman, and the rest of the gang, but we have friends and traditions of our own right here in LA."

Kayla stood abruptly taking their mugs to the sink. Still conversing, Kayla gushed over their new life; the way her and Kimberly fostered such a close network of friends between old and new- the Stricklands and Curtis's. Kayla failed to notice her sister's distant demeanor. The contrasts between them couldn't be starker! Kayla had moved to LA carving her own mark into the landscape. She seemed genuinely happy with the life she built for her daughter. There was family and close friends nearby, and Kayla forged new friendships with people who enjoyed similar activities such as skiing and surfing. Everyone remarked of the healthy glow-one that disappeared the moment Steven die that Kayla now possessed. Kimberly, too, held all the right ingredients: family, close friends, activities, but lived as a stranger peering into a life that didn't feel as her own. Aside from parenting Andrew and Jeannie and her work at the clinic, the rest of Kimberly's world felt like an ill-fitted mask. Pausing for a moment, Kayla whirled around to face Kim, who had stood and began gathering items to return home.

"And you're right, Kimmie."

"What's that?" Her sister replied absentmindedly.

Kayla cleared her throat and walked towards her. Taking her sister's hand, tears filling her eyes, she announced:

"I'm going to take Amanda up on her offer."

Kimberly gazed into Kayla's twinkling blue eyes and realized exactly what her sister meant. Kimberly pulled her close and hugged her tightly.

"Promise me that you'll have a Merry Christmas." She requested emotionally.

"I promise," Kayla replied. "As long as you do the same."

Nodding affirmatively, Kimberly forced a winning smile that concealed the turmoil erupting within her heart.

Location: Donovan Manor, Cotswold England

Lavinia Peach meandered down the hall from the kitchen approaching the grand foyer of Donovan Manor. Her eyes gazed out each single-paned front window. Frost slowly collected on the edges of the glass. Thick oppressive dark clouds rolled in and soon a light snow would blanket the landscape. A single cream-colored candle adorned with cranberries and cedar trimmings tied together with a delicate golden silk ribbon dotted each front window. The wind whipped against the old stonewalls of the Manor as each candle burned brightly beckoning weary travelers in for the evening.

Approaching the wrought iron staircase to her left, an alternating array of red and white Poinsettias set perfectly along each step. She paused at the imposing hand carved mahogany double front doors to her right and the formal family room to her left. The Donovan Family crèche- an heirloom passed down from many generations was displayed pristinely on the bureau on the opposite wall. Peering into the family room, Peachy studied the half decorated Douglas fir position perfectly between the back window to its left and the fireplace to its right. More than a few elegantly wrapped presents resided snuggly underneath. The ornate mantle carved by the elder Donovan was decorated with pewter framed pictures of Christmases past. Two gold embroidered red velvet stockings with Andrew and Jeannie's names etched on them hung majestically from it.

Peachy inhaled hopefully.

She remembered the desolate feeling that permeated the home once Shane sent the children back to the States to be with their mother the previous year. Now, an air of excitement and anticipation enveloped the manor.

"Laddie?" She called.

"I'm in here, Peach." Shane bellowed from a distance.

Puzzled, she whirled back around facing the front doors of the foyer. His voice echoed from down the hall to her left that picked up the symmetrical flow of the floor plan. In all her years of knowing the spy, Peachy couldn't recall ever venturing down that side of the estate? Without hesitating, she strolled towards the direction of his voice. The décor mimicked the opposite side of the residence with a few portraits, Victorian styled sconces, and a statue or two peppering the wall to break the monotony. There was only one entrance to her left, but the doors remained locked. A hazy grayish hue filtered into the corridor through the front windows. The light illuminating from the same decorative candles seen on the opposite side of the Manor created warmth in an otherwise desolate portion of the Manor. At the end of the passageway, twinkling lights filtered out the slightly ajar door creating a magical shadowy dance against the wall. Peachy pressed forward to discover Shane seated on the floor of one of the most opulent rooms she'd ever seen!

The dark heavy oak beams and crown moldings prominently displayed throughout the Manor repeated in the large rectangular-shaped ballroom. The walls were whitewashed displaying large delicate sconces in gold to elevate the lighting when England's infamous cloudy dreary days blocked natural lighting through the row of floor to ceiling windows. The floor lay in Italian marble with an intricate painting of miniature roses along its perimeters. An imposing mahogany fireplace anchored the ballroom towards the back. Situated under a Norwegian Spruce decorated in white lights and deep blue and silver hand blown glass ornaments, Shane assembled what appeared to be a well-preserved train set to weave in and out from underneath the tree. He looked up from his chore surveying Peachy's awed expression.

"Mother used to throw New Year's Eve parties every year." He noted casually lowering his eyes again as he unscrewed the bottom of a miniature freight car. Peachy remembered Shane discussing an elaborate train set he planned to present to Andrew for Christmas the year before. It never transpired.

Peachy observed Shane's cell phone lying next to him. Before she could inquire, the spy interrupted.

"Did our messenger make contact?"

"Yes, and the stubborn old bloke managed to live to tell about it." She replied crisply.

"Roman's contact is quite efficient." Shane noted with an arrogant grin.

Peachy's eyes flashed towards her partner. Narrowing them, she started to interject but he cut her off.

"What did Arlo tell our liaison?"

Peachy bit her lip while crossing her arms. Pivoting around, the old woman surveyed her surroundings.

"He didn't appreciate the terms, Shane." She scoffed slightly annoyed. The way Arlo strung them along bothered her, yet Shane didn't sense this to be a problem.

"Peachy, don't dance around the issue."

"Essentially you've been told to 'Bug off'!" Peachy retorted.

Shane methodically laid the track down across the base of the majestic Norwegian Spruce and stared out one of the front windows.

"Pity."

Peachy narrowed her eyes.

"What are you about to do?"

Shane tossed his head to the side meeting her dubious gaze.

"Give them an incentive to cooperate." He grinned mischievously.

Shane shrugged off his partner's lack of amusement and returned to his project applying the finishing touches to the track.

Peachy roamed around the grandiose space eyeing various black and white, and sepia-toned wedding portraits of its previous Ladies of the Manor. As her chunky heels clicked against the smooth marble, Shane wiped his hands absentmindedly throwing his attention to his partner's gaze.

"The ones to the left are Donovan women on my father's side and the three to the right of the fireplace are of my maternal grandmother, her mother, and grandmother."

Peachy paused.

A ladder partially blocked the view. Prominently displayed above the mantle was the only fully colored portrait. The radiant bride stood regally with her chin tilted upward, the muted grey backdrop illuminating her blue-green eyes. Chantilly lace that Shane imported from France draped her delicate shoulders, the beaded bodice cinched tightly around her tiny waist. The silk veil with beaded flowers held her honey blonde curly tresses together as the bride exuded sophistication and grace exhibited by the ladies of the manor before her. Peachy smiled faintly.

"You know Laddie, I wasn't simply discussing business when I warned you about people scrutinizing your moves."

The spy sauntered towards his partner.

"This room hasn't been used in a long time." Shane pointed out- his eyes artfully darting between his partner and the portrait. Scaling the ladder, he hoisted the heavy frame from its perch above the mantle and motioned for Peachy to help lower it to the floor as he cautiously descended. Gesturing behind her, Peachy whirled around and noticed a traditional wreath lying against the wall. Shane's demeanor betrayed no sentimentality.

"Besides, as much as I would enjoy toying with Collier's fragile ego, I wouldn't dream of ruining Kimberly's Christmas."

After their contentious exchange in Kim's study, Shane anticipated entertaining a smug producer hell bent on sabotaging the holiday with his family. His eyes rested nostalgically on his former wife's image before grabbing the elaborately decorative wreath and returning towards the fireplace.

"Collier has no idea who he is dealing with." Shane mused making the final adjustment to the wreath.

Peachy interrupted his train of thought reading it perfectly.

"I don't think you can afford to dismiss him. At the moment, he knows more about your capabilities than we do of his."

Shane exhaled heavily and did not answer for a moment. Leaving Peachy alone, he tucked the portrait safely away behind a door leading into what she assumed was storage. Returning to the ballroom, Shane placed his hands in his pockets, and tilted his head to the side.

"You think he's capable of inflicting that much damage?"

Peachy smirked and alluded to their recent altercation over Thanksgiving.

"It's not like you've given him any reason to resent you."

This induced a congratulatory grin from the spy. Shane wrapped his arm around her to escort her out of the room. The rhythmic tap of their heels punctuated the gravity of the situation.

"I don't think you can count anything out considering what Kimberly told him about us…or rather you…" Peachy cautioned.

Looking away towards her left, the twinkling white lights reflected the bluish hue off the silver and blue ornaments.

"He doesn't seem to connect me to the ISA." She mused softly.

"Precisely." Shane observed ominously. His tone somber, Shane's mind drifted back towards that brief exchange in Phillip's study. "Despite her lapse in discretion, this wouldn't be a problem if Phillip was my number one fan…"

His words trailed off not wanting to articulate the gnawing in the pit of his stomach. Kim's lapses in judgment usually revolved around him in some way. Mostly it had more to do with her placing his needs above her own or… Shaking off the gravity of the situation, Shane produced his best 'stiff upper lip.'

"I really wish she hadn't discussed the ISA with him in the beginning."

He paused observing the onset of snow flurries outside the window before bending over to pick up the cell phone. Finally he muttered,

"That really surprised me."

Shane's gaze never left the scene just outside the front frozen windowpane. Peachy flashed her steely blue eyes back at her partner, but he wouldn't meet her insistent stare. A maternal instinct to protect swelled within her heart.

An obnoxious chime of the chunky cell phone ended their stalemate. Glancing down, flashed over the display. Shane pulled away seeking some privacy as Peachy chose to remain in the enchanting room. As he strolled away, his voice reverberated down the hall.

"Donovan."

"Well, Morn'in Gov'nor!" Bo's usual cheery, but guarded demeanor flowed over the line. "How can I be of service?"

Shane smiled fondly. Bo Brady possessed a razor sharp brand of sardonic wit-mostly witty and light, but deadly when feeling personally wronged.

"I know things are extremely tense at the moment, but did you have a chance to ask Billie about her recollections of Collier?" He requested carefully.

An offhanded remark from an earlier conversation between the two shortly after his LA trip sent Shane on a mission guided by instinct. The spy sensed Bo was bustling around the boat while conversing. Mentioning Billie, who faced prison time for the murder of her father, quelled the mask of morning politeness and cheer.

"She's been a bit distracted lately." He replied in a gruff.

The slamming of a cabinet door on the boat smacked Shane over the line. Bo cradled the phone on his right shoulder as he propped his foot to tie his shoe. When Shawn-Douglas appeared from the back bunk, he motioned for his son to sit and eat his breakfast. Adjusting the phone,

"Besides Gov'nor, what's with the sudden urgency to dig up dirt on the man?"

His accusatory nature annoyed Shane.

"You said yourself that Billie thought she knew him. Given her circle of influence…"

"Eh!"

"Sorry, Bo." Shane corrected diplomatically. "I am not casting aspersions against Billie. I understand the circumstances. I am just saying that it isn't likely their paths would cross if Phillip's been on the straight and narrow."

Bo contemplated Shane's rationale for a moment.

"Are you sure there's not an ulterior motive, Cap…tain?" The infamous Bo Brady bite peppered his accusation.

Shane scoffed.

"I resent the implication, Brady."

Bo rolled his eyes. He conceded Donovan wasn't the type to play the interloper, but after witnessing how he allowed his emotions to pit his very own sisters against each other the year before, Bo couldn't discount that the spy might let passion overrule principle over this situation. And Shane was keenly aware of the man's assessment.

Bo exhaled evenly.

"Considering the damage you've caused, you'd better be treading lightly with this in regards to Kimber." He cautioned protectively and making no attempt to hide his condemnation of Shane's past actions,

"She's been through a lot in the past few years."

Silence ensued, heightening the tension between the two men. So many codes of friendship and love had been broken because of his affair with Kayla. Shane attempted to deflect all the nasty repercussions that rippled along the threads of the Brady family due to his indiscretion, but Bo demanded more from the spy. The two were cut from a similar moral cloth and Shane breeched that trust. The rest of the family showed patience and compassion towards the embattled spy-especially after the explosion and resulting paralysis. Even Shawn, whose fiery Irish temper was legendary, did not find it necessary to castigate his former son-in-law. Observing the regret emanating from Shane's face whenever Kimberly was around, Shawn concluded that the man suffered enough by the hands of fate. However, Bo held his tongue merely waiting for the right moment. The two men could not proceed until Shane made amends. Finally Shane cleared his throat.

"You were put in a bad position, Brady. I'm sorry."

A heavy sigh filtered over the line.

"I expected better coming from you." Bo stated through gritted teeth- animosity over the whole nasty affair boiling to the surface. He was just getting started…

"Look, Bo." Shane interrupted sharply. "As much as I enjoy a good flogging, I don't have time to waste. Are you going to help me here, or not!" He bellowed over the line.

Donovan displayed a genuine act of contrition. Bo couldn't expect to demand him grovel over the matter and he wouldn't respect the spy for it either. Exhaling loudly,

"I'll grant you: Phil doesn't strike me as being Kimber's type." He admitted signaling the issue was closed.

Privately Bo considered Collier to be haughty at times but strangely understood his sister's attraction to the movie producer. He'd watch how Kimberly played the man. Much like rest of the suitors in her life, Kimberly exercised a degree of control keeping him at an emotional distance. Yet, based on Kayla's insinuations over Thanksgiving, Bo speculated the arrangement since their departure wasn't working very well.

"But?" His friend prodded interrupting Bo's train of thought.

"He's nice enough." Bo strung the words along as if his arm was being twisted.

As much as Bo would prefer to believe Shane to be the "jealous ex-lover", his cop-like instincts told him otherwise. If Donovan was digging around, there was good reason. Bo made a quick decision to remain uninformed for now. Knowing details would only infuriate him at a time when Bo was powerless to do much but aid Shane in his investigation. Bo's hands were tied in Salem.

"Don't you have some new fangled ISA devise that can uncover such things?" He suggested.

"You know damn well the real pros know how to get around a paper trail, Bo." Shane sighed exasperated. "The man is clean." He retorted.

"Pro?... Heh? Not Phil." Bo quipped impulsively. Pausing to contemplate the matter,

"No one in his business is that clean." And then blurted out derisively. "Who the hell is on his payroll, or whose payroll is Collier on?"

"Exactly." Shane concurred. "Which is why I need some 'good ole' fashion boots on the ground' detective work."

Bo loaded his weapon and shouldered it into its holster.

"What do you need, Gov'nor?"

Shane smiled.

"I'm sending you a few pictures of Collier's associates to show to Billie."

"Sounds good." Bo replied affirmatively.

The two men exchanged a few pleasantries and caught up on the latest family business from both sides of the Atlantic before ending the call.

"So Kimber and the kids will be there soon, huh?" Bo mused pointedly.

"And Phillip within the next few days." Shane added.

"The man doesn't stand a chance." Bo chuckled to himself in reference to Kim's fiancé.

"Well, Gov'nor, I'd like to say that Salem's dull without you, but that wouldn't be true."

"I'm touched." The spy wryly replied.

"I will say," Bo raised his hand to punctuate the point as though Shane could see through the line. "That it isn't the same."

"Anytime you're this way, Brady. Anytime…" Shane offered as he poured the freshly brewed tea Simmons brought into his study.

"I just may take you up on that offer, Gov'nor. Until then, take care of my sister."

The confidence in the spy's capabilities reflecting in Bo's voice revealed much, but true to their nature, the call ended. Methodically Shane sipped his tea while awaiting her arrival.

Mid-afternoon

For eight hours on the plane, Kimberly listened to the children whisper and giggle excitedly over the events for the next few weeks. Several times, Kimberly believed the two settled down, only for one or both to erupt into more questions or random commentary. Was there snow on the ground? What was the size of the Christmas tree? Would Ms. Peach bake them cookies, or would Simmons play Santa again? Finally Andrew and Jeannie slipped into a deep sleep leaving their mother alone in her thoughts. The last time Kim made this trip, she felt the overbearing feeling of anxiety, but now anticipation gripped her. Glancing out the window to her right, Kimberly sought to drift a bit before the plane landed. Perhaps, sneak a little comfort in an elusive dream that taunted and teased her soul. For weeks, Kimberly would awake feeling her limbs tingle and possessing a fleeting air of satisfaction. She'd thought about discussing the situation with Amanda, or maybe Dr. Allison, but hadn't a clue as to even how to describe it? For starters, Kimberly could not remember who or what it was about? Was she even experiencing the same dream? She knew details would emerge in their own time when her mind caught up with her heart. Until then, Kimberly attempted to isolate and recreate the variables that seem to precede the dream… to no avail.

The plane trip languished well into the mid afternoon hours as the jet touched down at Heathrow airport. The air was chilly, foggy, and heavy on the eyes. Upon descent, the jet jostled and hummed towards the airstrip. The abrupt and unpleasant arrival produced a chorus of whines and complaints for food, beverage, and relief from the confines of the plane. The hurried mother stumbled out of the terminal with luggage, drinks, and children in tow.

"Ma'am." He called and snapped his fingers repeating, "Mrs. Dono…Ms. Brady."

A portly fellow navigated Kimberly's attention towards a silver Bentley. Scurrying into the backseat, the trio huddled together as the driver whisked them away towards the English countryside. Completely alert, the children chatted away as Kimberly fought to keep her eyes open.

The road gradually narrowed curving along the hillside far away from the bustle of the city. The harsh winter wind had long swept the last remnants of autumn leaves off their trees, the lush green hills of Cotswold barren until spring. The car passed fewer and fewer homes and almost an hour after stepping off the plane, they passed through the quaint little village at the bottom of the valley. Closing in on four o'clock in the afternoon, the snow-filled clouds created an oppressive and desolate atmosphere. A frozen drizzle fell mixing periodically with a random snowflake. To entertain the children's fancy, Kimberly played visual games with them.

"I bet…" She cooed. "Simmons has a fresh batch of nice buttery sugar cookies coming out of the oven as we speak."

Jeannie's eyes lit up. The gears in her pretty little head plotted each delicious morsel.

"With Chismas twees, and bells on them?"

"Ah, ah ah," Kimberly shushed. "Only after dinner." She smiled teasingly.

Her eyes drifted to her left observing Andrew, who had been quiet for sometime. Sensing his mother's protective gaze, he chimed in.

"Father has wreaths on every front window and a candle lit too. And he promised..."

The little boy stopped short seeing the familiar pattern of white lights peppering the horizon.

Kimberly reached over patting her son on the back.

"Your father is a good man, Andrew." She assured him hearing a hint of skepticism in his voice but not sure what it pertained to?

And at that moment, they rounded the bend approaching the Manor on the left. Standing majestically in the distance like a beacon in the night lighting the way for lost souls. A glimpse of the estate loomed ahead. Partially shielded by a sporadic tree and brush, Andrew's description paled to the effect of seeing the inviting white lights flickering from each window as they approached the old iron gated entrance. Traditional red ribbon pine wreaths adorned the double door gates opening automatically as the car approached. The car slowly rolled up the graveled drive, revealing Donovan Manor wrapped in a heavenly glow. Two miniature trees prepped in cement pots flanked the front mahogany double doors of the manor. Andrew leaped from the backseat tugging on his mother's coat exclaiming,

"He kept his promise!"

Decorated with a string of multi-colored lights, the trees sparkled brilliantly against the grey stone of the estate creating a rainbow of color on an otherwise colorless landscape. The display highlighted the inviting warmth of candlelight enticing one to enter the premises.

Andrew's big brown eyes shined almost as bright. Something so seemingly insignificant had a profound impact on the child and added just another brick to the boy's foundation of trust. Kimberly beamed with admiration and affection for the man who fathered her children. It renewed hope in her that faith and trust could be simple again. Kimberly's eyes shifted towards the magical scene just as the door opened and a shadowy figure stepped forward. Exhaling, she secretly thought:

"I'm home."