A/N: Sooo … in the NaNo confusion during which this story was begun, I committed the cardinal sin of using a canon character's name in two places - and I did it TWICE! I've gone back to Ch. 6 and fixed this, so the gal at the coffee shop is now Claire and her spouse is most definitely NOT Jimmy, who is still Tommy Barrow's bff.

Also, some of you have asked about Daisy's age. That is confirmed in this chapter. She's modeled after my own child in many ways - wise beyond her years and smart as a whip, with unexpected moments that hit you hard and remind you that she's really still quite young.

Thanks to brenna-louise for the beta, and for generally being an all-around awesome fangirl bud. And a shout-out to mistressdickens, who has schooled me a bit on proper English lexicon and the wording of certain sayings. I'm American, so occasionally these characters may say things with more of an American spin. I do try to avoid that, but I'm sorry for when it happens.

xx

CSotA

Monday, March 2, 2015

7:06 a.m.

Charles bustled into Elsie's bedroom laden with one magazine, an extra blanket, fresh sheets, a bottle of water, a granola bar, one extension cord, and one clean pair of pajamas.

"Charles, you're not leaving for the entire week," she said, laughing at him as he plopped everything in the chair. Thankfully, he'd had the presence of mind to be clutching the water bottle in his hand, and he set it down on her nightstand.

"I know, but better to have Beryl prepared than have her go searching for things. And the sheets need to be changed, which I can take care of when she's helping you to shower. I've brought an extension cord as well, so that you can plug in your phone and iPad as needed without having to move."

Elsie just shook her head. "Completely daft," she muttered, but there was still a smile playing on her lips.

"Completely prepared," he corrected her, placing a kiss to her forehead. "Alright, then - here's the magazine you requested," he muttered, digging through the pile before locating it and dropping it next to her. "One granola bar - chewy, no chocolate," he added, laying it on the nightstand beside the water, "and I'll put the pajamas in the bathroom for when you're out of the shower."

"Hello!" came Beryl's voice from the front hallway. "I'm here - everybody decent?"

Daisy's giggle sounded from the kitchen, and Charles and Elsie peered through the doorway as the young girl met Beryl halfway, landing in the woman's arms and giving her a hug.

"How are you, my dear?" Beryl asked, and Daisy looked up at her and nodded.

"Fine," she whispered, and Beryl beamed. Daisy had spoken to her a sum total of twice now, and everyone was wishing that would continue. Save for Charlie, Beryl was the one spending the most time at the house thus far, leaving Bill in charge of the Devil when she was away. Daisy's communicating with her was going to be a big help to them all, Elsie knew.

"Excellent. And you're ready to go back? Have you gotten all of your work done?" she teased, knowing full well Daisy had.

"I have," she said with a smile, and Beryl leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

"Good girl," she praised, glancing at the clock. "Alright, you've not got much time before you and your Papa have to leave - head on back to the kitchen and finish your breakfast and I'll catch up with Elsie, hm?"

Daisy nodded and followed the instruction, and Beryl turned to find Elsie and Charles watching them through the doorway to the bedroom.

"What?" she asked, making her way down the hall. "Spies, the both of you, eh?"

"You're wonderful," Charles murmured, "simply wonderful with her. She loves you."

"Aw, she's a darling. I'm glad she's ready to return, too. It'll do her good to get back to the usual routine. And how's Miss Patience doing today?"

"Oh, hush, you," Elsie said. "I'm perfectly fine. Perfectly bored, though, and feeling perfectly disgusting. I can't wait to get in that shower."

"If you can do that now," Charles suggested, looking at his watch, "I'll swap the bed sheets before I leave."

"Deal!" Beryl laughed. "That's just about my least favorite household chore of all."

"Alright, Els," Charles said gently, "up you go."

He got her up and out of the bed, by now a rather easy feat. They clearly had a system, and Beryl marveled at how they seemed to each anticipate the other's need and fulfill it without speaking. She watched them in wonder, then shook her head and smiled when they caught her staring.

"Took Bill and I ages to get to that point," she muttered, and Elsie smiled.

"She's all yours," Charles said to Beryl, kissing Elsie's cheek.

"I love you, you know," he then murmured in Elsie's ear, and she smiled brilliantly and reached up to grasp the front of his shirt, pulling him down for a proper kiss.

"Love you, too," she whispered, and Beryl rolled her eyes.

"Enough of that, you lovesick lovebirds," she teased.

Charles handed Elsie over to Beryl and waited for Elsie to put her arm around Beryl's shoulder before he let go and sent them to the bathroom.

"I'm all set once I get in now," Elsie explained to her friend. "We moved the chair over by the shower door. I'll just need your help with my hair, but I can manage the rest."

"Alright - we'll see about that," Beryl said. "Put on my swimsuit just in case."

"You did not!" Elsie laughed, and Beryl pulled the shoulder strap out from under her shirt.

"Did so!" she chuckled.

Charles smiled as he overheard their conversation. He stripped the sheets off of Elsie's bed and tossed them in a corner. He reached for the clean ones and got the bed made up quickly, tucking the corners tightly and double-checking everything before draping the quilt over the top.

"I'm all finished out here," he called into the en-suite. "Bringing Daisy to school, and Miss Baxter asked me to pop in and see her. Then I'm heading to the beach house to pack a few more of our things. Should be back before lunch."

"See you then," Elsie said; he heard the pain in her voice and surmised that she was already seated in the shower chair ... and hideously uncomfortable.

"Take care of her, Beryl," he called.

"Will do," she promised.

Charles and Daisy bundled up and headed out. Daisy tossed her backpack into the back seat and joined Charles in the front.

"I don't think so, petal," he said, and she grumbled and got in the back.

"I'm almost nine," she complained.

"Yes, and you're small. I'll not have you getting injured should we hit something," he said without thinking. Her small gasp called his attention to the words he'd uttered, and he turned to look at her guiltily.

"I'm sorry, love," he said.

But she just shook her head. "It's alright, Papa. I know you just want to keep me safe. But it makes me feel like a baby sometimes."

"I'll bet by summertime you'll be just the right size for front-seat travel," he attempted. "Just another inch or two taller and the seat belt will fit you just right," he added, and she nodded.

Best let it lie, Charlie. Sometimes, he couldn't believe she was only eight still. She had always been so well-spoken, so much more mature than her peers in school. And since Alice had died, of course, she'd had to do a great deal more growing up than he'd have wanted for her. It suddenly occurred to him that she likely had her own suspicions about what had been going on at school.

"Daisy," he asked tentatively, having traveled a couple of miles down the road, "have you any idea why Miss Baxter wants me to come in?"

"I think it's to do with Miss O'Brien," she said, confirming his suspicions. "She's been giving me more work than the other students. I talked to Miss Baxter about it, because it's not fair. She can't do that - Miss Baxter said so."

"Hm. Elsie mentioned something about that, but I thought it was being sorted."

"Maybe," Daisy allowed. "Miss Baxter said she'd take care of it, but then …" She didn't have to finish, the both of them knowing full well what had happened after that.

"Yes," he said. "Well, you've gotten all of the work done that Marigold brought to you, and you're ahead in your literature book as well. We'll see what Miss O'Brien makes of that."

"She'll be angry I've read ahead," Daisy grumbled. "She's a witch," she added in a whisper.

"Daisy," he warned, trying not to smirk.

What can you say, really? he thought. From what Elsie's said, she's right.

He drove to the coffee shop that Elsie frequented and Daisy's face lit up. She'd been by with Elsie three days in a row last week, and Claire already knew what Daisy wanted - medium hot chocolate, extra whipped cream. She prepared it as soon as they walked in the door.

"And for you?" she asked Charles. "You must be Daisy's father. I'm Claire," she said, offering her hand.

"Charles Carson, and yes, I am. But nothing for me, thanks," he said, handing over the money for Daisy's drink after shaking Claire's hand.

She made change but he waved his hand, indicating for her to toss it into the tip jar.

"Thanks! Give Elsie our best," Claire said kindly. "We're all rooting for her, and I miss seeing her smile in my drive-thru."

"We shall. Thank you, Claire."

"Have a good day!"

They got to the school and Charles pulled into the parking lot. He and Daisy made their way in, and he was touched that she tugged on his hand to kiss him goodbye when the bell rang.

"Have a fun first day back," he smiled at her, and she nodded.

"I will," she whispered. Just then, Marigold emerged from Edith's office, took Daisy's hand, and off they went to class.

"Like sisters, aren't they?"

Charles looked up to see Edith, who appeared much less green than he expected.

"Edith!" he exclaimed, coming around counter to hug her. "You look well, dear."

"I think I am finally over the worst of it," she said hopefully. "So, appointment with Miss Baxter?" She frowned and checked her watch. "I think I'd like to sit in, if you wouldn't mind. Can you wait here, and I'll phone her and let her know you've arrived? I need to get through morning announcements and then I'm free until ten."

"I wouldn't mind at all," he said. Just as he took a seat by the door, his phone buzzed in his hand. He slid his thumb across the glass.

All tucked in. Good luck w/Phyllis - I'm sure it's about Sarah. x

He smiled and typed a quick reply:

Yes, Daisy thought so, too. And thanks. Will I need it?

Her reply came almost instantly.

If Edith is there, no. Behave! ;)

He felt calmed by the short message, and realized for the first time how worked up he'd really been about the prospect of having to challenge the school on a matter related to Daisy's well-being.

She will be, and I'll behave. You behave, too. I expect you to be resting when I get home. Love you.

It took a few minutes for the phone to buzz again; he'd assumed she'd not be replying, so it startled him when it vibrated in his hand.

HOME. I love that. I love YOU, Charlie. See you soon. x

"Uncle Charlie?" Edith said, having just finished the morning announcements.

He looked up and realized he must have a boyish, lovesick look on his face, for Edith was gazing at him adoringly and shaking her head.

"You've got it bad, both of you," she said, he licked his lips and nodded.

"You have no idea," he murmured, getting out of his seat.

"Oh, I think I do," she smiled. "It's written all over your face."

He stepped aside so she could walk down the corridor ahead of him, but she fell in beside him instead.

"Please tell me you're going to propose to her. You and Elsie … I've never seen two people more suited to one another - two of my favorite people, I'll have you know," she said, reaching out to squeeze his hand.

He stopped short, causing her to do the same two steps later. She turned, and the look on his face told her everything.

"You have asked her!" she whispered excitedly. "I can tell! When?"

"Shh,"' he managed, looking about to be sure she'd not been overheard. Edith reached out and pulled him into the copy room, shutting the door behind her.

"Spill it, Charlie," she ordered.

He sighed. "You must tell no one," he begged. "We've not discussed it properly, but it just sort of … came about. In the hospital, mind you, just before she was discharged. But we've not even told Daisy yet, and haven't made any actual decisions one way or the other."

"I swear," she promised. "Do you have a ring, at least?"

He shook his head. "Not yet - that was my plan for next weekend, actually, to start looking. Isobel is staying at the beach, as you know, but she wants to come and spend a 'girls' afternoon' with Elsie a week from Saturday - I believe I'm being evicted, and told Elsie I'd use the time at Mary's place to pack up what I don't get to this morning. But I should have time to sneak out and do both," he added.

Edith jotted something down on a Post-it note and handed it to him. "Here," she said. "He's the local jeweler the next town over. His name is Mark, and he's brilliant. If you don't find what you want, something that speaks to you, he'll manage to craft it. Trust me."

"Thank you," he breathed, pocketing the note. "Am I through being interrogated now?"

"You are," she smiled, opening the door. "But I will tell Bertie."

Charles sighed. "Of course," he allowed. "But he's trustworthy, isn't he?"

"Absolutely," she said, beaming.

"Mr. Carson, hello," Phyllis said, offering her hand.

"Charles, please - none of this 'Mr. Carson' nonsense, it makes me feel too formal … and old," he said, eyebrows raised and head slightly inclined. "Besides, I think we're all friends now, aren't we?"

Phyllis smiled and gave a gentle nod. "Have a seat, please," she said, indicating the chairs by her desk.

Charles and Edith both sat.

"I'm sure Elsie - or even Daisy - mentioned this to you already but, given what you've all been through recently, I wanted to wait until this week to ask you to come in." She snuck a look at Edith, then turned her attention back to Charles. "There seems to be some kind of issue regarding the type of assignments Miss O'Brien has given to Daisy recently."

Charles sighed. "Yes, that's what I expected I was here to discuss."

"I know you have one at home, but here is a copy of Daisy's 504 plan," Phyllis said, handing him a sheet of paper. "If you look at the 'Accommodations' section, it clearly stipulates that she is to receive the same amount of work as the other students in her class, although assignments may be amended to accommodate her unwillingness to speak."

"Yes," Charles said, and he hummed as he scanned the paper. "And it is my understanding that what you've just told me is not quite what has been happening in Miss O'Brien's class."

"No, it's not," Phyllis admitted, and she spotted the angry look on Edith's face.

"Look," Phyllis sighed, "we're all friends here. Elsie brought this to my attention last week. It seems Sarah O'Brien is, in fact, giving Daisy more work in lieu of simply amending her assignments. It's quite out of character for her to do something like this, I will say that. And I'm not sure if it has any real bearing on the situation or not, but she really dislikes Elsie."

"Why?" Edith asked, her brow furrowed. "No one dislikes Elsie," she added under her breath.

Phyllis sighed. "I'm afraid I can't explain that," she hedged. "But I know it to be the truth. Still, I think what it boils down to is that she resents Daisy's speaking to us, Elsie, and Joseph, and not to her."

"Maybe if she were kinder," Charles rumbled angrily, "that would not even be an issue."

"Exactly," Phyllis agreed.

"So what do you want from me, Phyllis?" Charles placed the paper on her desk. "I'd rather not file a formal complaint, but this clearly cannot continue."

"I know. I'd like two things, actually, both of which I think will be effective. First of all, I'd like for you to speak with Daisy about it. Is it possible that she's made enough progress that you feel she'll come out of her shell more by the end of the year? It may help if Miss O'Brien thinks there's hope on the horizon."

He sat back and placed his hands on his knees, deep in thought.

"A week ago, I'd have said yes," he explained hesitantly, "but not I'm not sure. Elsie's accident has clearly had an effect on Daisy."

"Of course, and how awful it must have been."

"Yes," he replied, "but in addition to frightening her, it also showed her how she can take control, that speaking can have positive results, and that being able to do things as she did can help her to overcome her fear of being out of control. I will definitely speak to her more about this."

He looked at Edith, then back at Phyllis, and realized he was still missing something. "You said two things …"

"I'd like you to set up a meeting with Sarah O'Brien," she said quietly.

"To complain to her?" he asked, incredulous.

"No, but to talk to her. Some people would have already done so, believe me. But whereas you've obviously been busy with other things, and where the 504 process is fairly new to you, I wasn't sure it would have occurred to you to do so. That's the real reason that I called you in, I suppose - to go through the details with you. I felt you needed to know what rights you had and I felt that we had a responsibility to inform you that this not only unfair but, according to law, illegal."

"You had me come in so you could coach me?" he suggested, and Phyllis nodded.

"Yes, which is why I wanted Edith here, too. I need it to be clear to all involved that I'm not interested in a witch hunt, nor in getting any of our staff members in trouble. Charles, you have the added difficulty - and blessing, in my humble opinion - of being involved in a relationship with a staff member, a staff member who happens to not get along well with the teacher in question. Anything you do, any meetings that you set up, must be by the book, and you need witnesses to ensure that you aren't accused of anything improper, of taking advantage of your relationship with Elsie in order to gain preferential treatment for your daughter. But you also need to be made aware that it is your legal right to complain about this."

"But Edith is family," he protested. "Surely her presence here today isn't terribly unbiased."

"Perhaps not," Phyllis said. "I've asked Joseph Molesley his opinion, though, and he agreed that you should be brought in. And he is rather unbiased, I will say that."

Charles was silent, mulling through all that Phyllis had said. He noted that Edith was refraining from speaking at the moment, probably so as not to sway him one way or the other. He didn't figure it mattered much, though; the more he thought about Daisy being treated unfairly because of a personal gripe her teacher had with Elsie, the more incensed he became.

"Here's what I suggest," Phyllis explained. "I'd like you to contact Miss O'Brien to discuss Daisy's return to school, using Elsie's accident and its ramifications as the reason. You can fill out a meeting request form in the office, or email her when you get home. You want to request a team meeting, which would be with her, Mr. Molesley, myself, you, and - if you want her there - Daisy. Trust me on this: Daisy's assignments - both the amount of work she has and the types of things she's being given recently - will come up naturally in conversation. Coming in for a meeting will let Miss O'Brien know that you're not only interested, but knowledgeable, and that you've got your finger on the pulse of what's happening in the classroom. I think that's all it will take to get her back on track. Once she knows you're paying attention and that you know exactly what's going on with Daisy's work, I think things will change."

Charles looked at Edith. "What do you think?"

Edith nodded. "It's a good plan. I'd have encouraged you to set something up with them even if there were no issues with the 504, due to the personal nature of Daisy's relationship with Elsie and the fragility of Daisy's own demeanor. This only makes it more important for you to do so."

"Very well," Charles said. "Let's set it up."

Charles filled out a meeting request form right in the front office, then headed home to relieve Beryl of 'Elsie duty.' He arrived to find them both dozing - Elsie in the bed, of course, and Beryl in his chair. He tapped her lightly on the shoulder and startled her into wakefulness, but placed a finger to his lips to indicate that Elsie was still asleep.

"How'd it go?" Beryl asked when they reached the safety of the living room.

"Well, I think," he said.

"That Miss O'Brien's a right bitch, if you ask me," Beryl said bluntly. "Never had a kind word for my William, and he's a good lad."

"Yes, well, I think we'll have it sorted soon enough."

"Getting Elsie's back brace this afternoon - you going to be alright with all that?" Beryl asked. "It seems to be one more thing on top of everything else you've had going on."

Charles nodded. "I am. She should have gotten it days ago, but the swelling took forever to go down. Anyhow, Elsie and Anna set up a schedule for the animals' care the other day, so everything is pretty well in hand. They even added me to it, but I don't start until Wednesday. And I think Elsie plans to ask Tommy to help as well. Says he knows something about the farm from the time he's already spent here."

"Tommy Barrow," Beryl mused, shaking her head. "What a sorry situation that boy has."

"Well, I hear the father's not returning," Charles mused, "so maybe not as bad as it once was?"

"Well, the mother's not quite got it all together, although she tries, bless her." Beryl sighed. "It's a good thing Elsie's done, having him here to do odd jobs. Gets him out of the house and gives him some responsibility. Builds character."

"I agree. We spent an afternoon with him a while back, you know. I found him very polite. I understand from Daisy he's not got a lot of friends and used to be rather mean with the other children, but he was quite fun the day I met him."

"He does seem to have changed, from what Ivy tells me," Beryl offered, saying no more about it.

"Well, thanks so much for being here today," Charles said.

"Don't mention it," she waved him off. "I'm off to take over lunch service from my husband," she added. "You need anything, just call."

"I shall," Charles replied. "Thanks again."

"Anytime," Beryl said, putting on her coat.

Just then, a shuffling sound followed by a shouted curse emanated from Elsie's bedroom. Beryl laughed. "Have fun!" she added, waggling her fingers in goodbye.

"Oh, I shall endeavor to try," Charles said, a smile plastered on his face as he walked down the hallway. He made it four steps, and the bell's ring sounded clearly.

Charles appeared in Elsie's doorway. "Hello, love. What's happened?"

"I've dropped my magazine," she said, clearly frustrated. "I put it aside earlier because my 'designated hour of reading' was up," she grumbled, making air quotes with her fingertips, "but I've rested and feel better now. I think it's underneath the bed … And, hello," she added as an afterthought. "Sorry, I'm quite groggy at the moment."

"I've got it," he said from somewhere beneath the bed frame. He emerged once again and handed it to her as he knelt beside the bed. "I swear you drop things on purpose so that you can watch me bend over to pick them up," he added cheekily.

"Ha! You wish," Elsie grumbled. "I can barely stand the thought of getting out of this bed, let alone anything else. God, I can't wait to be off the Vicodin."

And the steroids, Charles thought, words that he was thankfully smart enough to keep inside as he stood. He knew they were what was really responsible for Elsie's grumpiness, way more than the pain pills were. But she was attempting to wean off of the narcotics, too, and the extra pain that involved meant she had lost a bit of progress in the mobility department these last couple of days; to make matters worse, he knew she wasn't sleeping well. She was tough, to be sure, but it was all getting the better of her, and the wearing of the back brace surely wasn't going to help her mood at all. Coming off of two medications at roughly the same time was bound to be … an adventure.

"I'm sure you can't," he said soothingly. "Just promise me you won't rush it."

"I already have promised that – twice," she answered in a clipped tone. "But I don't like how they make me feel."

"All normal side effects," he reassured her. "But, still, if the pain is better than the side effects, well … that's your call."

"Thank you for that," she replied somewhat acidly.

Charles sighed deeply, silently counting to three to maintain his own sense of calm. "Can I bring you some lunch soon? Any requests?"

Elsie shook her head. "I know I've got to eat, but I don't feel like having anything at all. Maybe a one of those smoothies you made me the other day? The idea of anything heavier is positively revolting to me at the moment, but perhaps something I can sip slowly will work better?"

"Sounds like a plan. Just let me know when."

Elsie held out her hand. "Charlie?" she beckoned, and he moved over to the bed to clasp her fingers in his.

"Sit," she ordered, and then softened it. "Please?"

He obeyed, sitting down in his chair beside the bed. "Els? What is it?"

She squeezed his fingers and looked into his eyes. "I know it's been an awful few days, and I'm sorry for that. I just … my emotions are all over the place, I'm not feeling well at all, and I'm frustrated as hell just lying in this bed."

"Wait 'til you have that brace, love, and then you can move around some more – at least spend time in the living room or on the porch, a change of scenery if nothing else. One day at a time."

She nodded. "I know. Thank you for being so patient with me." She licked her lips and looked down at the bedspread, composing her thoughts. "Charlie …"

"Yes?"

Her eyes back on his, she asked the question that had been on her mind all morning. "Tonight, will you … Can you sleep with me? In the bed, I mean, not trying to catch a few winks in the chair?"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Elsie," he said. "I don't want to hurt you, to move or jostle you in some way."

"I don't think you will," she said, shaking her head. "But … well, I think I'll sleep so much better if you're here and not in my guest room. I'm just so exhausted, I've not slept well at all and I think that's one reason why I'm so short of temper. Would you try? I'll let you know if it's not working." She gave him a sad smile, a pleading look in her eyes that just didn't belong there normally … and he crumbled before her.

"Alright, I'll give it a go. But only if you promise to cast me off if you aren't comfortable?"

"I do," she replied, nodding to emphasize her agreement. She tilted her head forward and he leaned in to meet her lips with his, sealing the deal.

The next morning, Elsie woke from the most restful sleep she'd had in days. As she opened her eyes slowly, she became aware of a soft snore coming from just above her right temple, Charles's breath fluttering her bangs as he slept. She tried to stretch a bit, her movements tentative as she tested the limits of her mobility. She had taken a pain pill prior to going to sleep, but that was … she lifted her eyes to the clock on the wall.

… Nine hours ago?!

Gleeful, Elsie smiled broadly and took a deep, cleansing breath. She tilted her head to the side and ever-so-slowly moved over a bit until she was able to place a warm kiss to Charles's bare chest.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she murmured when she heard the change in his breathing pattern.

"Hmm, what time is it? Surely it shouldn't be quite so bright in here?"

"It's six forty-five, actually. Anna will have come and gone by now."

"Six forty-five? Are you serious? We've slept nine hours? How is that even possible?"

Elsie reached her hand down and clasped his. "We were together. I tried to tell you," she said gently. "You slept well, then?"

"Like a baby, yes," he admitted. "And I didn't hurt you?"

Elsie shook her head. "No, not at all. I don't even think I moved, which is remarkable. Even my leg feels good, which I think may be due to the human hot water bottle that was cuddling it all night."

"Well, then, who'd have known there would be therapeutic benefits to this scenario?"

"I did," she answered simply. "Now come over here and give me an extra snuggle before you have to get up."

"Has Daisy been in?" he murmured into her hair.

"No - at least, I've just woken myself, but I don't think so. I do hear the television, so I know she's up. I told her the other day to help herself to whatever she can find in the kitchen. My best guess is she's currently stuffed full of Lucky Charms and needs to brush her hair for school."

"Quite likely," Charles chuckled. He moved a bit so that he lay more completely on his side, facing Elsie, with his head resting on his hand, his other arm draped over her abdomen. "This alright?"

She hummed her contentment. "It's almost perfect."

"Almost?" he asked, eyebrow raised as he trailed his free hand up and down her arm.

She snatched his fingers in her own and tugged, almost pulling him over on top of her.

"That's better," she said, now that he was, indeed, closer.

"You're a teasing little witch, aren't you?" he growled, nipping at her collarbone as she leaned her head back and encouraged him with a soft moan. "We can't do anything more than this for weeks, and you promised to behave."

She backed up a bit to look him squarely in the eyes. "I am behaving, Charlie. You just wait until I can twist the lower half of my body."

"I can barely wait," he whispered into her ear. "But with Daisy sitting out there somewhere, it's a good thing you can't."

"Tell me," she replied. "Alright, out you go. I'll need a moment to get myself mobile, but I think I can manage to at least get up on my own and get myself stuffed into that damned brace."

"Turtle shell," he corrected.

"Shut up, you!" she laughed, punching him on the arm. "You can stay out of my bed if you're going to be like that!"

"Ahem, you insisted that I be in here," he retorted, sitting on the edge only to swiftly turn back around and place a kiss to the swell of her breast. He exhaled deeply, ensuring that she'd feel the heat from his breath on her skin, after which he turned his back to her once again and got up before she could take another swing at him.

"I'll get you for that," she growled playfully.

"Given your current lack of mobility, I believe that I can outrun you, Ms. Hughes."

She sobered almost instantly. "'Ms. Hughes'," she said quietly. "It'll be nice when you can't call me that anymore, I think."

He looked at her lovingly from where he stood by the door. "Indeed. And we'll talk about that when you're feeling yourself, but not before, as we agreed."

"When do we tell her?" Elsie asked, pointing toward the door, beyond which lay the living room, the television, and Daisy.

"I'm following your lead, love," he answered softly. "You let me know."

She smiled, and he smiled right back. "Okay."

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

1:15 p.m.

Charles jumped when his phone rang. He'd just been nodding off on the sofa, his book opened face-down on his stomach.

Mary.

"Hello?" he said groggily.

"Oh, Uncle Charlie, have I woken you? I'm sorry - you must be exhausted," came Mary's reply.

He sat up, laid the book aside on the table, and rubbed his face briskly. "No, it's fine. I need to head out in a little while to get Daisy anyhow."

Then it dawned on him that it was Tuesday. "Have you found something?" he whispered, not wishing for Elsie to overhear.

"Sort of. It might be easier if we meet up, though, so that I can show you. Could you come by my place at some point today? Richard is due to return in the morning."

"I think so," he said quietly. "Elsie's not got any appointments, and I'll need to go back out to the store for a couple of things after I bring Daisy home." He glanced at the clock. "How about in … three hours or so?"

"Perfect." She sighed, then added hesitantly, "Uncle Charlie?"

"What is it?"

"Regarding what you asked me to find, well, that's not so bad after all - I think better than you thought. But …"

"Mary? Tell me," he insisted, now full of worry.

As she sat at her desk in the office, Mary scanned the papers and photographs she'd spread out before her, brushing her fingers over one in particular.

"There's more to this whole mess than even I suspected," she whispered. "And I'm frightened."

Charles felt his blood run cold. "I'll see you in three hours, Mary. We'll figure it out, alright?"

"Alright. Until then," she said, and she hung up.

Charles pocketed his phone and sighed deeply.

"Charlie?" Elsie's voice came from the hallway. "What is it?"

She'd startled him. He looked up and saw her leaning against the wall, her face pale with worry and, most likely, pain.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he asked worriedly, jumping up to help her, then stopping in his tracks as she put up a hand to stop him.

"I'm fine, Charlie," she said. "I had to get out of that bed. Just let me get into the recliner and, well, recline … and then we're going to talk about that phone call."

"Elsie, I'm not sure -"

"Don't. Mary never calls you, and you sounded terrified. What in hell is going on, Charles? Has he done something?"

Charles helped her get comfortable and then resumed his seat on the sofa. One look in her eyes told him it was useless trying to dodge this conversation.

He filled her in on his request of Mary, how he'd told her about Richard making an offhand comment regarding Becky, and how Mary had volunteered to look into it; he told her about the secret files that Mary mentioned, and also about Richard's trip away.

"I want to see her," Elsie said suddenly.

"Mary?" he asked incredulously, and she laughed.

"No, you daft man … Becky. I know they've told her I've been ill, and I specifically instructed them not to tell her I'd had an accident or been in hospital. But I think she should know now, as I'm a bit better and able to be up and about somewhat."

"There is no way you can travel there, Els."

"No, I realize that. But … well, if I sent you with Beryl … would you be willing to bring Becky here?"

"Can I? I mean, can she leave?"

Elsie nodded.

"Of course I'd be willing. And … Daisy?"

"Yes. I think it's time, Charlie." She reached her hand out and he scooted to the edge of the sofa closest to her so that he could take it.

"Time for …?"

She smiled at him, all the love in the world reflected in her eyes. "Time to tell them, Charlie. Tell them we're going to be a proper family."

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, steadying his emotions as she squeezed his hand firmly.

"Thank God," he whispered, and she tilted her head.

"Did you doubt me, Charlie?" she asked, a quiver in her voice.

But he just opened his eyes and looked at her sweetly. "No, love, not really. But now it's real, you know? Really real. And I," he added, kissing her fingers, "have never been happier."

And, with that, her heart absolutely sang its reply.

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