The sun was slowly creeping above the horizon; inching its way farther and farther across the hardwood floor through the linen drapes. A cool yellow light bathed the room, and Karen's eyelids were heavy as she contemplated it. The rocking chair she sat in, once housed in the room she had picked to be the nursery for her baby that would never be, creaked beneath her weight with each pass of the wooden frame. From downstairs, she could hear the clatter of silverware as it struck against the tile of the floor - that clumsy new maid must've dropped the tray again.

Karen's hair was brilliant white, her face a beautiful portrait of a good, long life illustrated by deep-set lines in her milky white skin and just the slightest amount of droop beneath her eyes.

She straightened up in the rocking chair, just enough to see over the window ledge next to her. She looked down on the eastern edge of Central Park; so still and quiet at this time of morning. A fresh layer of dazzling snow lay undisturbed on the ground and the trees beneath her. It was winter once again, finally. The trees were dying, the grass was brown - it was a time of death. But yet, Karen couldn't help but smile at the undeniable, cold beauty of it. Death wasn't always an ugly thing.

The new maid bustled in, rapping quickly on the doorframe before sweeping across the room to place the silver tray across Karen's lap. She didn't say a word as she adjusted a mushroom-colored silk napkin on Karen's chest and arranged her silverware. She had learned quickly that Karen didn't want to talk to her, or to anyone. She just wanted to be left alone.

The maid bustled out of the room as soon as Karen was all set for her breakfast. The hot oatmeal and coffee stared up at her. And she just stared back, not daring to take a bite of any of it. With all the strength she could muster, Karen placed the tray on the table next to her. It was a great effort for such a frail old woman, but she did it.

As she gingerly pushed the tray as far away from her as she could manage, a figure in the doorway became visible in her peripheral vision. She panicked for a moment - knowing she would be in trouble if the maid caught her skipping breakfast again. And then she saw who it was.

His hair was as dark as the night, his crystal blues eyes shining magnificently. He wore pale colored garments, fitted but not tight - hugging his body just enough to display his young, strong body. Karen blinked and rubbed her eyes. It couldn't be…it just couldn't be…

"Karen," Jack spoke softly. He looked serene and calm, an undeniable joy radiating from within him. She couldn't believe it.

"Jack?"

It had been 23 years since he died. Twenty-three years since she held him in her arms or heard his giggle. She hadn't forgotten about him - that would never have been possible - but she had managed to get on with her life. And for years, 23 of them, it had just been Will and Grace and Karen. And then Will and Karen. And then just Karen. She had gone on - valiantly, confidently, but always lonely. Still lonely. Until this very moment.

"Hi." He didn't move from where he was standing in the corner.

"Jackie…" she sighed. She longed to touch him. "I missed you so much." The sun was all the way up now, its radiant beams hitting him squarely, illuminating him. He was so bright in the dark room, Karen almost had to squint to see his face.

"You missed me? But I've been with you every day."

Her mind couldn't make sense of the words. He didn't mind.

"Come here. I want to touch you."

Jack shook his head.

"I can't." He gracefully raised a hand, motioning for her to come nearer. "You have to come to me."

"But I'm so tired," she sighed. "I don't think I can make it. You have to come to me."

He shook his head again.

"You can do it." He opened his arms, begging her entrance into his embrace. "Trust me."

From down the hall, Karen could hear the maid at the bottom of the stairs, no doubt on her way up to make sure Karen was eating her oatmeal. This was her only chance. And so, she stood.

Her legs shook beneath her, and it took her a second to find her balance. When she did, she met Jack's eyes, and he smiled. Karen inched her way closer to him, shuffling, shuffling. Her nightgown hugged her legs as she propelled them forward. She could hear the maid coming up the stairs. But she was so close…

Jack was right in front of her when she felt herself falling. She tried to reach out and grasp something, anything, to get her balance, but it couldn't be helped. He was only a step or two away, and she cringed as she went down, anticipating the coming pain. She stared into his brilliant face for as long as she could before her eyes closed automatically and she awaited the arrival of the floor.

But then she opened her eyes, and she hadn't hit the floor at all, Jack must've caught her. She was looking at two pairs of arms - one had a firm grasp on the forearms of the other. They were both soft and smooth, wrinkle-free - youthful even. And then she realized - those were her arms that Jack was grasping so firmly. The sensations that followed hit her all at once; her body didn't ache anymore, and it felt as though an enormous weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. As she studied the lower half of her body, she realized that made sense, as she was once again as slender as she had been as a young woman. Tresses of long, chestnut hair draped her shoulders.

As she took this all in, one of Jack's soft hands made its way to her chin. His hand lingered on her jaw line, his thumb stroked her cheek. And then, ever so slowly, he tilted her face up towards his. When she raised her eyes to look into his, a flood of pure happiness, as thick as honey, surged through her. The dark room, the sunrise, the new maid - all of it was forgotten, and there was only him.

Her smile matched his as he pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her kneeling form. And as she rested her chin on his shoulder, relishing the feeling of his strong, warm arms, she saw that they were not alone. Several yards away, she could see Grace's bouncing red curls and Will's beautifully tanned skin. They were dancing. And then, just to the left of them but closer to her and Jack, was a little girl. She was maybe ten or eleven, with softly waved dark hair and striking blue eyes. When she saw that Karen was looking at her, she waved.

Before Karen could wave back, though, Jack had pulled away from her. He held her shoulders gently and stood them both up. She grabbed one of his hands in her own, and reached up to do what she had been longing to do for 23 years; she kissed him. His hands encircled her waist as he pulled her closer, and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he massaged her tongue with his. She was so happy she wanted to cry, but there were no tears in her eyes, and she couldn't imagine why she'd ever need them again.

His lips found her hair and he kissed the top of her head, then brought his mouth to her ear and whispered into it, his voice sending shivers down her spine.

"You don't have to miss me ever again."