Chapter 2

Booth and Christine stopped at Whole Foods and Cherryvale Farmers' Market on the way home. They were having their monthly Daughter-Dad Dinner Cook-Fest this afternoon while Brennan worked in Bone Storage for most of the day. Home on a break between concerts, Parker had taken Hank to his soccer and hockey practice sessions, and out for a lunch of pizza afterwards. Swathed in matching red aprons, Christine and Booth chopped, diced, pureed, seasoned, stirred, sniffed, sampled, and simmered their way through the afternoon as he taught her the finer points of preparing Grams' Italian tomato sauce.

Their cooking sessions had been in progress for several months, and Booth was delighted with Christine's eagerness to master the recipes Pops had coached him through after his grandmother's untimely death. The familiar motions of cooking had eased the older man's sorrow over Gram's loss to cancer, and given Seeley a chance to comfort his grandfather when words weren't enough.

At six pm, Parker and Hank returned home and Booth placed a tenderly- exasperated call to his wife to "store the bones and come on home." Brennan's tendency to lose track of time while working in Limbo was well known to her family and friends.

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The pristine silence of Bone Storage had proven a sanctuary for her many times when thoughts and emotions were in turmoil. More than once in the months after Hodgins' return to work at the Lab, she had pushed his wheelchair down to Limbo when his frustration was evident. The bond of scientific inquiry which had first linked Hodgins and Brennan had strengthened enormously in their years of work together. Their capture by the Gravedigger had thrust them into a desperate collaboration for survival, and forged a stronger-than-ever friendship between the two. Her marriage to Booth had sharpened Temperance Brennan's awareness of feelings in those she loved, and honed her ability to express herself for the benefit of others.

Angela had always been her go-to-girl for emotional insights, but Brennan's capabilities in this realm had grown over the last decade. The horrific explosion of Thomas Gallo's bomb-infested body had shattered not only Hodgins' body, but his connections to his wife and friends. His denial and anger when facing a wheelchair-bound future had threatened every human relationship the warm-hearted man valued so highly.

Angela was pulled in a million directions, caring for Michael, supporting Hodgins, handling her victim- identification duties as only she could. His withdrawal, rages, and volatile moods were almost more than her sensitive artistic soul could bear. Psychological counseling sessions had been far less effective than the physical therapy which restored his abilities to move about and function normally. The whole team longed for the insights Sweets would have offered.

In the end, it was Brennan's spare use of words and silent support which helped the most. She would notice his vexation and quietly wheel him to her office for a private cup of coffee. Sometimes she sat with him. Other times she closed the door and left him to the peaceful silence unavailable in his instrument-filled Ookey Room of lights, beeps, and signals. She lent him the peace of her Bone Storage examination room when he needed solitude. Brennan also realized, and convinced others, that a return to his work was essential to Hodgins' recovery, despite all their protective instincts to the contrary.

Gradually, Hodgin's innate optimism had reasserted itself and his outlook and spirits had risen. He never slacked off on his physical therapy, instead using vigorous exercise to bleed off frustration. Restored to his lab and the work on which he thrived, he felt useful again. As modifications were added to facilitate daily activities, things improved at home, not only from a physical standpoint, but emotional as well. The exceptional love which had brought them to marriage in a jail cell carried Hodgins and Angela through the turmoil of his recovery.

Just as they had once worked tirelessly to bring Booth home from prison, the favor was returned by Booth and Brennan. He and Wendell worked several weekends to add ramps, bars, and other assistive devices at Hodgins' mansion before his release from rehabilitation. Brennan had kept Michael Vincent overnight and on weekends, so Angela could focus completely on Hodgins.

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At home over dinner that night, Brennan was delighted to hear about Christine's and Michael's new dog walking clients. "What breed of dogs are Mrs. Murphy's pups?" she asked her daughter.

"They are English Shepherds, Mom. Did you know that they came with the first American colonists? Mrs. Murphy said we have to be firm with them, that they're kind and intelligent, but inclined to be bossy," Christine responded.

Parker and Hank grinned at each other. "What?" Christine demanded.

"If those puppies are bossy, Mrs. Murphy hired the right dog-walker, Chrissy, 'cause you're bossy, too!" Hank declared.

"We just call it like we see it, Sis," Parker agreed.

"Okay, boys, leave your sister alone," Booth told his sons.

"Gosh, I'm full! Dad, your spaghetti sauce is as good as Pops was," Parker said.

His father smiled at Christine. "Your sister made that sauce almost single-handedly. Before long, she's gonna be as good a cook as Bones and Gram."

"Speaking of that, can you fix your Macaroni and Cheese before I leave, Bones?" Parker entreated his step-mother.

"Certainly, Parker, and if you wish, I'll teach you to make it tomorrow afternoon. We can have it for dinner before your flight takes off. You need to be at Dulles by 7 p.m., correct?"

"Yup, I wish I could stay longer, but I've got a concert scheduled in Manchester, New Hampshire on Tuesday night."