"Day 73," said Alfred as he crossed out yet another day on his calender. It had been over two months since Arthur had gone back to England. Over two months since he had left the note stating his promise to be 'back soon'. Alfred wasn't angry just...a little disappointed. Not that Arthur was taking longer to come back than he had anticipated but that he hadn't left nearly enough food for a month much less for seventy-three days.

Alfred had started taking more rations from his friends in the near village. It was a nice family with a total of 7. Alfred had received a picture from the wife the last time he was there. They had finally been able to afford a painter to come to their house and make them a family portrait. She had the official one hanging prestigiously above their fire place, but she also had many copies made to show off to others. You can't really blame her. She had a very beautiful family.

Alfred looked at the copy he was given that was placed on the desk next to his bed. The head of the family had been old man Jenkins. He seemed quite old. He was 67 after all, but if you work with him you wouldn't be able to tell. His long, white beard and mustache were always accompanied with a joyous smile. A day did not go by when Mr. Jenkins didn't smile. This thought stayed in Alfred's head as he made his way to the fields to work with Mr. Jenkins.

"You end up wastin' the day if you try takin' it on with sour look on yer face! God gave you lips for two reasons," he always said to Alfred. "An' that was for smilin' and for makin' kissy faces at the cuties," he said as school girls around Alfred's age passed by causing Alfred to blush. "But yer much too young for that. So enjoy life an' try to live it to the fullest. Because once yer old like me you begin to look at life with regret. And always remember Alfred," he placed a heavy tanned hand on the blonde head. "It's never too late. Just look at me! I'm 59 and living in Massacheusetts running my own farm with just me, my wife, and my son." He grinned widely at Alfred on the last part.

"That's a good lesson but Mr. Jekins, you're not 59, you're 67. And you live in Virginia, not Massacheusetts. And you don't live on your own farm with just you wife and dog. You also share the land with your daughter, son-in-law, your two grandsons and one granddaughter, your horse, Chastity, and your cow Old Faithful. Also I'm not your son. I'm not even related to you. I live in the forest five miles away and work for you in return for the food and services you and your family provide for me."

"..."

"...Um. Mr. Jenkins?"

"So that's why my back is always in pain, the bathroom is always busy, and I'm completing the field work faster than expected." He turned to Alfred and laughed.

Alfred replied with a weak giggle. He admired Mr. Jenkins very much but he had been having memory problems lately. The doctor said he'd be fine but it only seemed to be getting worse. The life that the old man had described was actually from 35 years ago.

"Hi boys!" greeted a jubilant woman from the doorway. She was 27 years old, medium height with long, tied back, blonde hair and had bright orange eyes inherited from her father, Mr. Jenkins. Her long orange dress was covered with her sunflower apron. A usual outfit for her.

"Good Morning, Ms. Addison." answered Alfred. This was the kind woman who had befriended him in the forest and offered him food while Arthur was away. She, just like her father, always wore a carefree smile on her face.

"Breakfast is ready so why don't you two come in and eat? Have you have breakfast yet, Al?"

Al. Everyone in this family called him by that name. He first thought it to be stupid but soon grew accustomed as he got to know the people that placed this name on him.

"No, Ms. Addison. I was planning on working until about noon when I would walk home for a quick break then come right back."

"You can't do that Al!" scolded the young woman. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day and by the time you get home you'll have died! Can't have that on my conscience." She had a knack for exagerrating.

Addison was a kind woman but she could get pretty aggressive when disobeyed. Alfred had no choice but to accept.

The table was adorned with many different dishes, all looking more savory than the last. Alfred hated imposing but it was impossible to reject a meal cooked by Ms. Addison. She was like a goddess when it came it food. No meal ever tasted the same, no matter how many time she had made it before.

"Dig in."

The plates began to get passed around. Being in such a large family meant always having to share. No one ever started eating until every single person had a stacked plate and grace had been said.

Alfred immediatly devourved the monterous serving.

"Did you like it?" asked Ms. Addison.

"Definately. You don't cook up food. You cook up magic."

"Oh, Alfred. Always flattering people. Well, don't be shy! Have another plate."

"No that's quite alright. I have to get back to work besides I'd hate to a bother."

"No bother at all!" called out the husband. His jet black hair fell to his brown eyes as he sat happily munching.

"Yeah. Come on, Al." Alfred turned to see a boy, that resembled the husband, only a year older than himself passing him another plate of food.

"I'll race ya!" challenged another boy from the other side of the table with crimson red hair and orange eyes.

"Don't be shy, Al." This time it was a old woman sitting next to Mr. Jenkins. Her hair was snow white causing her blue eyes to stand out like orbs.

"Listen to grandma, Ally." A small girl on Addison's left side chipped in.

"Ms. Addison, Mr. Daniel, Sam, James, Mrs. Lily, Leslie..." Alfred let out a long sigh. "There's just no fighting with you guys is there?"

"Nope!" yelled Mr. Jenkins. "So better eat or else we'll get cha!" His booming chuckles were contagious and soon everyone, even Alfred, was laughing.

Alfred enjoyed these times. The food, the laughs, the stories that were shared. The house was always lively. He loved staying with Ms. Addison and all the other but sometimes he couldn't help but feel a hint of envy.

"I wish I had my own my family," whispered Alfred unbeknowst to himself.

"But you do," Ms. Addison replied.

"What?" asked a confused Alfred.

Mr. Jenkins stood clearing his throat. "A family is people who care about each other. Who love each other. Who trust each other. That means that no matter what one of them did to another they will continue to love and support each other. Even if you dislike them or even start to feel hatred towards them. It is the reason you work. The reason you wake up in the morning. The reason you never stop fighting. You live to see those people again even if it's just for a second. You love them enough to die for them even if you disagree with their actions. Because that's what a family does. It lives and perishes for, with, and because of one another. All of us here feel that way about you. We love you like our own. And if you'd accept, we could be your family."

Tears formed and streaked down Alfred's cheeks. He couldn't take the overwhelming joy building up in his chest. 'So this is what it's like to have a family,' he thought.

"It would be an honor to be a part of this family," spoke Alfred merrily.

All the other members ran up and gave him welcoming hugs. He was so happy and yet...he couldn't help but feel this warm, jubilance to be familiar.

"I hope Alfred isn't too upset I haven't gone home yet," said Arthur.

Ms. Henderson looked to him with wide eyes.

"What?"

"You said 'home'. And yet you are in England. Don't tell me you've grown fond of the boy's land?"

"I guess I have," blushed Arthur. He loved England more than anything but he missed playing with Alfred in the wilderness of his home.

"Soon, Alfred. Soon. Hope you don't forget about me."