Once Jake got the hang of riding his bike, they had a hard time getting him to come back inside. Jack had to call him a couple times to get him to stop riding and eat lunch. As Jake walked through the garage on his way into the house, he picked up his training wheels and dumped them in the trash can.

After they finished eating, Jake started getting quiet again, and Sam wondered if some new memory was haunting him. Once the kitchen had been cleaned up, she found him in the garage, sitting on the floor and staring at his bike, which was leaning against the wall.

"Hey, buddy," she said as she sat next to him.

"Hi."

"You okay?" Jake shrugged. "Just thinking about stuff?"

"Yeah." Sam handed him the object that she was holding – a bound book. "Another book?" he asked. A frown appeared on his face when he opened the cover and realized that there was no writing. Flipping through the pages revealed that the whole thing was blank. "What's this for?"

"That is something to help you remember your parents and your friends and your life from before you came here. When you're thinking about something, you can write it down or draw a picture and make sure it's kept safe. No one is expecting you to forget about them, Jake. Just the opposite, really. And if you want help with writing, all you have to do is ask."

He stared at the book without answering, tracing a finger around the edge. Sam was somewhat encouraged by the fact that he hadn't gone running back into the house yet.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"Do I have to show it to anybody?" Jake whispered.

"No, not if you don't want to… but if you do feel like sharing, I'd listen." He didn't answer. "How about I give you a pencil and go back inside?" she suggested.

"Okay."

"Okay." She handed him the writing utensil and headed back into the house. Before she closed the door, she looked over to Jake; he'd started carefully writing on the first page.

"How's he doing?" Jack asked as Sam joined him and Abbie in the living room.

"Better, hopefully."

On Sunday morning, Sam woke up to see that Jack was sitting on the bed, watching her. "What?" she asked with a self-conscious smile. "Is my bed-head that bad?"

Jack shook his head, "You look beautiful." He reached for a box on her nightstand. "Here."

Sam frowned in confusion as she sat up and took the box. "What is this?" It wasn't her birthday yet and he hadn't ever gotten random gifts for her before.

"Open it," Jack insisted, without giving any kind of explanation. She obliged, and discovered a small, heart-shaped photo frame inside. It already held a picture of Jake and Abbie together. "Happy Mother's Day."

Sam smiled. "You didn't have to do this."

"Yes, I did. I know this hasn't been easy, but you've been doing a great job. I wanted to make sure you knew it didn't go unnoticed."

"Jack…"

"I decided not to bring Jake and Abbie in on this," he quietly revealed. "And not because I don't think they appreciate you, but I just wasn't sure how Jake would take it. And especially after this week…"

She shook her head. "No, I understand, and I agree. Thank you so much for this. It's a great picture of them."

"Mmm. Last time I was here, I got them to sit still long enough for one decent photo while you were out shopping or something. Even got Jake to smile."

She laughed, but her grin faded after a moment. "I'm still worried about them."

"I know."

"How am I supposed to know if I'm doing everything they need?"

"You don't. Kids are mostly gray areas, but you're doing great. Really."

Sam forced a smile. "I'm sorry. This was so nice and I don't want to ruin it."

"Don't worry about it."

"Thank you, again."

Jack leaned over and kissed her. "Happy Mother's Day."

Neither of them was aware that a little pair of eyes was watching from the hallway through the not-quite-closed bedroom door. Jake had woken up and come to ask about breakfast, but ended up overhearing the end of their conversation.

He quietly padded back down the hall to his bedroom and shut the door behind him. Buried under socks in the top drawer of his dresser was one of the few possessions that he'd brought from his reality – a set of dogtags that had belonged to his mother. Jake pulled them out and sat down on his bed. Most days, he would leave them safely hidden away, but sometimes, if he was feeling homesick, he would take them out and hold them.

Five lines carved into two scraps of metal held her identity. The concept had originally made him angry. There was so much more that defined her besides her name, blood type, and religion. She'd been his mom. She read him books, had taught him to tie his shoes, and would put Spiderman band-aids on his cuts and scrapes. When his dad went away for work, she'd let him sleep in the big bed and they'd have pillow fights. He'd loved to see her smile.

Jake turned his gaze upwards, "Happy Mother's Day, Mommy," he whispered. He'd forgotten all about the holiday in the chaos of the last several weeks. The previous year, his father had let him pick out flowers to surprise his mother with. He'd gotten yellow and red roses; yellow matched her hair, so they were just for her, and red was always the color used for things that mean you love someone. The day had been just perfect, and none of them had ever imagined it would be the last time they would celebrate the holiday together.

Jake lifted up the corner of his mattress and took out the book that Sam had given him. He had carefully filled the first page the previous day with a list of all the people that he didn't ever want to forget. His mother was the first on that list. He flipped to the next page and laid her dogtags on the paper before closing the cover to keep them safe inside. He didn't feel as sad as he normally did after looking at his treasure.

Jack had been right, all those weeks ago. Things here were different, but they were still good. And maybe… maybe that was okay.

Sam started to get worried when she didn't hear any noise from Jake and Abbie's bedrooms by 9AM. On weekend mornings, she could count on both children being awake early and demanding something to eat for breakfast. She became more concerned when she discovered that both of their beds were empty.

"Did you get Abbie out of her crib?" she asked Jack as he joined her in the hallway.

"No." Sam sighed. She knew that Jake was capable of lowering the railing and getting his sister out, but she'd asked him not to since she was concerned that the little boy would end up falling or dropping her.

"Jake, Abbie, where are you?" Sam called as she and Jack headed out to the living room. There was no answer. Just before she started to panic, Jack noticed something out the window.

"They're outside," he told her.

"They're what?" Sure enough, both kids were in the backyard, still in their pajamas. She opened the back door. "What are you doing out here?"

Jake had been bent over, doing something with the grass, but he abruptly stood up and put both hands behind his back. "Go back inside," he told her.

"What?"

"You gotta go back inside. We're not done yet."

"Done with what? And you guys shouldn't be doing anything out here in your PJs."

"We had to," he replied.

"Why? What's going on?"

Jake knew that they were busted. He sighed and finally stopped hiding what he was holding – a small bouquet of dandelions and clovers. "Happy Mother's Day, Sam," he said as he offered them to her.

She failed at her attempt to blink back tears. "Thank you, buddy."

"These were all that we could find for flowers," he said somewhat sheepishly as he handed her the weeds.

Sam smiled. "They're absolutely perfect."

TBC...