The days crawled slowly by for Natalie. She tried to keep herself entertained with wedding planning, including surfing the Internet for inspiration, as well as writing thank-you notes to everyone who had sent her flowers, called, or visited while she was in the hospital. Books, movies, and crossword puzzles helped too.

As the days went on, her ribs hurt less, and while that seemed to be a good sign, it also made her more restless, and she was sorely tempted to get out of bed and increase her activity level. Mindful of Dr. Harmon's and Dr. Hector's dictates, however, and faced with the prospect of postponing the wedding if she did something stupid and relapsed, she behaved herself and stayed quietly in bed or on the couch.

Visitors helped. Her parents came every day. Cassandra dropped by often, even if only ten minutes or so, just to say hi, in addition to the longer wedding planning sessions. Julie came as often as her busy schedule allowed — she was in the midst of performing in the spring musical at Berkeley, and it was killing Natalie that she couldn't go see it — and T.K. came by several times, often bringing Leland along. Randy was a frequent visitor, too, stopping in to chat with her while dropping off or picking up Sharona, since the two of them only had one vehicle at the moment.

But her most surprising visitors arrived on her eighth day home. Natalie was in fairly good spirits, having survived two full weeks of bed rest (one in the hospital, and one at home). She was counting down the days until Friday, when she had her two-week post-discharge check-up with Dr. Harmon. She had high hopes that he'd lift the bed rest and put her on restricted activity, meaning she could get out of bed during the day and actually leave the house occasionally.

It was Sunday, and Adrian and Natalie had decided to give Sharona the day off, assuring her that they could handle themselves without her for a day. Peggy and Bobby had decided to spend the weekend on a winery tour somewhere a few hours north, and Julie was in the midst of her final performance in the Berkeley musical. Adrian had gone to see the show, with her parents, on its opening night, and had come home beaming like a proud father — which, in a way, he was, Natalie thought fondly. And while one of the performances was being professionally filmed, and Julie had promised to bring her a copy the moment there was one available, it just wasn't the same. Julie had tried to console her by saying that she sincerely hoped it wouldn't be her last musical, and that Natalie could attend the one next year.

They were lounging on the couch mid-morning. Adrian was stretched out with his head in Natalie's lap, reading a newspaper; Natalie absently played with his hair as she leafed through a wedding magazine.

A knock at the door startled them both. Adrian rose to answer, and when he opened the door, he was struck temporarily dumb.

Ambrose Monk was standing on the doorstep, a fact which was astonishing in and of itself. But what was even more surprising was the man who accompanied him.

It was Jack Monk, Sr., his and Ambrose's father.

Adrian hadn't seen his father in several years, not since their semi-disastrous (no pun intended) road trip together. Jack had phoned since then, but the calls were always few and far between. Occasionally Adrian would get a postcard from some far-off locale, one that looked like it'd been purchased in a truck stop somewhere, with a few scribbles on it. The last he'd received had been three months ago, from Boulder, Colorado, and had simply said, "Very pretty here. Big mountains. Hope you're doing well. Dad." Ambrose, apparently, received similar cards.

"Hello, Adrian," Ambrose said, meeting his brother's shocked eyes squarely. "May we come in?" He was clutching a bouquet of cheerful white daisies and a wrapped box. Jack said nothing, but raised his eyebrows in a questioning gesture.

"I — uh — yes, of course," Adrian said, recovering his powers of speech.

As they stepped in, Natalie sat up straighter, wincing slightly as she did so. "Ambrose!" she said in obvious delight.

"Hello, Natalie," Ambrose said, making a beeline for her. He offered her the flowers, and set the box he held carefully at her side.

"They're beautiful," she said, sniffing the daisies with pleasure. "I loved the flowers you sent me in the hospital, too."

"I know; I got your thank-you card," Ambrose said, beaming.

Natalie regarded him with pride. "I can't believe you're actually here! Ambrose, you left your house!"

"I wanted to see you," he said bashfully. "I've been worried."

"I'm just fine," she assured him. "Still on bed rest until Friday, but hopefully not much longer after that." She looked over his shoulder as Jack Monk approached.

"The package is from me," the older man said, indicating the wrapped box at her side.

"Thank you," Natalie said awkwardly. She barely knew Jack, having only met him once for a few minutes, and frankly she still felt some anger towards him for how he had abandoned his family and only reappeared in Adrian's life when he needed something from him. But, for both Adrian's and Ambrose's sake, she would try to be civil.

She unwrapped the box and smiled at the contents — assorted chocolate truffles — although her smile was a little stilted. "My favorite."

Jack grinned. "So Ambrose said."

Adrian had shut the door and was standing nearby, looking as nervous as Natalie felt.

"We would have called," Jack added, "but Ambrose wanted to surprise you."

"It's a very pleasant surprise," Natalie said, her smile deepening into genuine warmth as she looked at her future brother-in-law.

"Adrian, why don't you and I go out back and talk while Natalie and Ambrose visit?" Jack said abruptly.

Natalie and Adrian exchanged a glance. "All right," Adrian acquiesced, figuring it was best to find out what his father wanted as soon as possible. He couldn't figure out any other motive for this unexpected social call.

He led his father out the door to Natalie's — to their small backyard patio. He was still accustomed to thinking of the house and its things as Natalie's, not theirs. "Do you want a glass of water or… something?" he asked awkwardly.

"Nah, I'm good," Jack said, settling into one of the patio chairs.

Adrian took the one opposite him. "So, what brings you here?"

Jack looked at him reproachfully. "You get engaged and you don't even call me?"

Adrian looked surprised at this. "I'm not accustomed to calling you," he said, not maliciously, but with the tone of one stating a simple fact.

His father shook his head, looking disgruntled. "I shouldn't find out news like that secondhand."

"The phone works both ways… Dad," Adrian said testily.

Jack had the grace to look ashamed. "I know I don't call as often as I should, but…"

"For what it's worth, the last time I called, I got a message saying that the number was no longer in service," Adrian mentioned mildly.

"What?" Jack looked blank. "Didn't I give you my new number?"

Adrian shook his head.

"Ambrose has it. Why didn't you ask him?"

"I didn't think of it." At Jack's skeptical expression, Adrian shrugged. "It's true."

"I didn't know you'd moved, either," Jack said, his expression accusatory.

"It just happened last week," Adrian said defensively. "And my life has been a little hectic lately."

At that, Jack's face softened into an expression of sympathy. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. But she's going to be okay, right?"

Adrian nodded. "Yeah."

"So, how long have you two been… together?" Jack asked. "You didn't say anything about being romantically involved with her the last time I talked to you."

"Just since New Year's Eve," Adrian said.

Jack nodded, but didn't seem surprised. "You move fast. When's the wedding?"

"Probably June fourth."

He raised his eyebrows. "Probably?"

Adrian shrugged. "It depends on Natalie's recovery. We're going to make a final decision about whether or not to postpone in a few weeks."

Jack sat back in his chair. "Were you planning on inviting me?"

Adrian looked at him steadily. "We didn't know where to send the invitation."

"Well, you can send it to your brother's house."

Adrian eyed him warily. "Are you planning on staying long?"

"I'm planning on staying permanently."

"What?" Adrian felt his own jaw drop in shock and snapped his mouth shut. "What are you talking about?"

"I've decided to retire from trucking," Jack told him. "I'm going to live with Ambrose from now on, and find a job here in San Francisco."

Adrian's back stiffened. "I don't think that's a good idea," he said, keeping his voice quiet with effort.

Jack's brow furrowed. "Why not?"

"It nearly destroyed Ambrose when you left the first time," Adrian said, speaking through clenched teeth. "You'll finish the job when you leave again."

Jack leaned forward, his hands clamped tightly on the arms of the patio chair. "I just finished telling you that I'm here permanently. I'm not leaving."

"So you say," Adrian said grimly. "But your track record isn't exactly stellar."

Jack winced at that. "Look, I know I've made mistakes, but — "

"Leaving your family without a word of explanation is more than just a 'mistake,'" Adrian responded coldly. "You can't expect just to waltz back into our lives and — "

"I know, I know," Jack interrupted. "Look, I — " He sighed, raking his hands through his hair. It was much shorter than it had been three years ago, when Adrian had last seen him. "I'm not proud of what I did, or how I did it. But I can't take it back. I can't erase what happened."

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't have to live with the consequences."

"So you want me to be punished for it for the rest of my life?" Jack asked. "I don't get a second chance?"

"What have you done to earn one?" Adrian countered.

"I came back, didn't I?" Jack protested. "I asked to see you."

Adrian's expression was scornful. "Only so I could fix your traffic ticket."

"And the trip we took together? That doesn't matter?"

Adrian crossed his arms. "We took that trip because you wanted to keep your job, not because you were genuinely interested in making amends."

"Well, I am now." Jack crossed his arms in a gesture nearly identical to his son's.

"Why?" Adrain asked simply.

Jack looked down, his lips tightening in a firm line. "I've been in a pretty bad place for a while," he confessed. "Mentally, I mean. Ever since our trip, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you kids… and your mom… and all the things I'd missed. Then I heard Jack Jr. was in prison, and it made things worse. I was feeling like a failure — as a father and as a human being." Jack rested his elbows on his knees, studying the cement beneath his chair. "Things got so bad that I was starting to think of… you know… ending it all."

Adrian slowly uncrossed his arms and sat up. "Why didn't you?" he asked quietly.

"About a month ago, I was at a truck stop in Wyoming, and I came across a fella who had just come through California. There was nasty weather going on outside, lots of wind and snow, and we were both biding our time until the weather cleared. He had a newspaper with him, one he'd picked up in San Francisco, and he gave it to me to read when he was finished with it." Jack looked up and chuckled softly. "Imagine my surprise when I saw an article about my son, former detective Adrian Monk, getting engaged."

That damn Dispatch article again. Adrian had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

"It made me start thinking," Jack continued. "About second chances. I guess I figured that if you were lucky enough to get one, maybe I could, too. That maybe it wasn't too late to be a father to you and Ambrose." He shrugged, embarrassed. "So I decided to come back. I got my affairs in order, gave notice at my job, and showed up on Ambrose's doorstep yesterday afternoon."

"And you're planning to stay," Adrian said flatly. It wasn't a question.

Jack nodded. "I'm planning to stay. I'd really like make it to your wedding this time around. Get to know my daughter-in-law." He grinned suddenly. "Maybe see some grandchildren?"

Adrian stared at Jack in disbelief. First Dr. Bell and now his father? What was going on? "I doubt it," he said curtly.

Jack's smile faded. "Why not? You're not that old. And Natalie's a good bit younger than you, isn't she?"

"That's not — it doesn't — " Adrian blew out a breath. "I just don't think I'd make a very good father," he admitted.

"What?" Jack seemed genuinely astonished. "Why do you say that?"

Adrian met his eyes squarely, and told the barefaced truth. "I'm afraid I'd be like you."

To his credit, Jack neither flinched nor turned away, although his eyes darkened with pain. "You're a much better man than I ever was, Adrian, or ever will be. You'd never run out on someone who needed you — no matter what happened."

The two men gazed at each other in silence. Then Ambrose's timid voice interrupted them from the back door. "Dad? Adrian? I made some coffee, if you want some."

Jack smiled cheerfully at his oldest son. "Sounds great. We'll be right in."


Natalie could hardly contain her excitement. "You're coming to the wedding? Really?"

Ambrose nodded, although his smile was nervous. "Dad says he'll come with me. I think… if he's there, I think I can handle it."

"We'll practice getting out of the house every week, just to get you used to it," Jack said, sipping from his coffee cup. "By the time the wedding comes around, it won't be a problem."

Adrian was less sure of that, but he had to appreciate the confidence his father was showing. And the fact that Ambrose himself had voluntarily left the house today after their father had suggested a visit to Natalie boded well. He wondered if a similar show of confidence might help his brother further. "Do you think you could handle a little more than that, Ambrose?"

Three heads turned toward him inquiringly. "I'm not sure what you mean, Adrian," Ambrose said.

"Well — " Adrian hesitated for the briefest of moments, then took the plunge. "If you're planning to be there, I was hoping — that is, I wanted to know if you would — if you think you could be my best man."

Natalie stifled a gasp of delight.

Ambrose's eyes went wide, and he blinked at his brother several times before answering. "Y-you want me to be your best man?"

Adrian nodded. "If you think you can manage standing up in front of a room full of people during the ceremony," he said honestly. "If not, I'll understand, and I'll be happy just to have you there as a guest."

"I — I — " Ambrose sputtered. "I don't know what to say."

"Say yes," Jack Monk suggested, smiling broadly.

Ambrose looked from his brother to his father and back again. "Yes," he said, sounding dazed. "I accept."

Natalie clapped her hands together. "Thank you, Ambrose. That makes us both very happy." She had an ear-to-ear smile and her eyes were shining.

Jack eyed her admiringly. His son had picked a looker, that was for sure. "It's settled, then," he said. "We can start practicing for that, too."

Adrian shifted in his chair. He didn't like the way his father was looking at Natalie. "Ambrose, if you'd prefer not to give a toast at the reception, I can ask Leland to do it."

"I think that'd be for the best," Ambrose said, looking immensely relieved. Standing up in front of people was one thing; having to speak in front of them was quite another.

"Leland's going to handle the bachelor party too," Natalie added, her eyes dancing with humor.

"I look forward to it," Jack said with a grin.

"I don't," Adrian said ruefully. "I tried to tell him that I didn't want a bachelor party, but he wouldn't listen."

"Technically, you're not a bachelor," Ambrose mentioned. "The term 'bachelor' refers to a man who has never been married."

Adrian's eyes lit up. "That's a good point. Maybe I can use that to — "

"I doubt it," Natalie said, grinning. "You threw him a bachelor party even though he'd been married before."

"Hmmm," Adrian frowned. "That's a problem. I set a precedent."

"Don't worry about it," Natalie said reassuringly. "Leland isn't going to plan something ridiculous with strippers and booze, because that isn't your style. Just trust him."

"Listen to her, Adrian," Jack said. "It sounds like she knows what she's talking about."

"Thank you," Natalie said, giving him a genuine smile for the first time all morning.

They chatted for a while longer, but finally Ambrose said it was time they were getting back home.

"Did you drive here?" Adrian asked his father.

"We took a cab," Jack answered. "I don't have a car, not yet, anyway. The rig that I drove belonged to the company, so I just took the bus to San Francisco. I'm going to buy a car in the next few weeks, if I can find a decent used one."

"I'll drive you home," Adrian said, rising from his chair. "That way you don't have to bother with a taxi."

"That's right, Ambrose told me about the new wheels," Jack said approvingly. "Well, I'll take you up on that offer."

Adrian knelt next to the couch. "You'll be okay alone for a little while?" he asked Natalie.

She smiled. "Of course. I'll be fine."

"Call my cell if you need anything," he said, kissing her cheek tenderly.

"I will," she promised.

Jack watched the byplay with interest. Adrian seemed to transform into an entirely different man in that moment — one who was warm and affectionate instead of aloof and reserved. He liked the change, very much, and wondered if his son would ever act that way with him instead of holding him at arms-length.

Adrian grabbed his wallet and car keys, and ushered his father and brother out the door. Natalie whiled away the time he was gone by flipping through bridal magazines, with an old Fred Astaire movie on the TV for background noise.

He returned a little over an hour later, bearing a mango and passionfruit smoothie from her favorite smoothie bar. "You spoil me," she said, accepting it happily.

"It was on the way," he said, settling down on the couch next to her.

She eyed him as she sipped. He looked worried, she thought — worried in a way he hadn't been before he'd talked with his father. "What did you and your dad talk about?" she asked casually.

He shrugged. "He says he's moved back here — permanently."

Natalie nodded. Ambrose had told her the same thing. "What do you think about that?"

"I don't know." He absently fiddled with his car keys. "He seems sincere, but — "

"You don't trust him," Natalie supplied.

Adrian shook his head. "Not really."

Natalie shifted into a more comfortable position. "Ambrose said he was talking about finding a job, and he mentioned buying a car earlier. Those are good signs, don't you think?"

"He had a job and car the last time he left, too." Adrian traced the logo on the key fob with his finger. "It's not me I'm concerned about. I survived it the last time he left, and I'll survive it if he leaves again. But Ambrose… might not."

"Ambrose is stronger than you give him credit for," Natalie said quietly.

"Maybe." But Adrian didn't look convinced.

She reached over to link her hand in his. "Thank you for asking him to be your best man."

Adrian smiled at that. "I thought the vote of confidence might help. I just hope he's able to do it."

"He will. But we can ask Leland to be an emergency back-up, just in case."

He raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed her fingers. "If Ambrose is going to be my best man, that means that you still need to find another bridesmaid so I can ask Jonathan to be a groomsman."

"I know," Natalie sighed. "Actually… I was thinking of asking Cassandra."

Adrian looked surprised for a moment, then smiled. "That's a good idea."

"You think so? I thought it might be kind of weird since she's the wedding coordinator, and I know we haven't known her that long, but… I already consider her a close friend, and the other bridesmaids love her too. Plus I think Jonathan might like her."

He raised his eyebrows at that. "Are you playing matchmaker?"

"No!" Her cheeks pinked slightly. "Well… maybe a little."

"I think you should ask her. I bet she'll say yes."

"I hope so. We have an appointment tomorrow, so I'll talk to her about it then." Natalie glanced at the wedding binder on the coffee table. "That reminds me — she wants to know our back-up wedding date, just in case."

He considered, then slanted a look in her direction. "I really don't want to wait until October if June doesn't work out."

She wrinkled her nose. "July is too hot."

"The average high temperature in July is 73 degrees," he protested. "That's not too hot."

"Mr. Walking Almanac," she muttered.

"July thirtieth," he proposed. "It's a Friday, just like June fourth. And it's far enough out where you should be fully healed."

"And it's a multiple of ten," she said with a knowing smile.

He grinned. "Well, that too."

She sighed. "All right. I'll tell her July thirtieth as a back-up, just in case." She pointed at him. "But my money is still on June fourth."

He didn't doubt that, given how stubborn she was. "Agreed."

"Now that we have that settled," she said, reaching over for the gift bag of DVDs her mother had given her, "let's watch a movie."

"You have something in mind?"

She pulled out the copy of When Harry Met Sally. "As a matter of fact…"