Here we are and here it is...the final chapter. This was request from a dear friend who wanted the whole family together one last time. It has been quite a long ride with the Halstead's and I have enjoyed every chapter of it. I appreciate all the reviews and messages, as well as the ideas to get to know this family just a little bit better. I know that they will forever live in my heart and roam in my brain.

(Since this chapter was a bit long, I decided to divide it into two parts...so next week will be the final post. Sorry for being anti-climatic.)

A Halstead Christmas

Liam

The colorful lights are blinking in a sporadic fit. The kids love lots of Christmas lights blinking, chasing, vibrant. I spent nearly an entire Saturday stringing them from our modest Southside home earlier this month much to their delight, well only for their delight as I really didn't care either way if the house sparkled festively or not. Our tree is real, because Reilly likes the scent of pine, but we get a "potted" one that we send back to the Christmas tree farm to continue to grow and find a new family the following year. Our job is to keep it alive while it is in our care.

The ornaments are haphazardly placed on the bottom and much better spaced on the top. It is clear where Mom and Dad decorated and where Jamie and Sean had tackled the job. They waited three nights for me to get home at a reasonable hour in order to decorate the tree. But the boys are at a magical age for Christmas with Jamie being eight and Sean six, so Reilly refused to do it without me.

The ornaments are mostly handmade, crooked popsicle stick reindeer antlers, Santa with squinty eyes and a hat where the pom-pom fell off last year. Wreaths with oddly spaced dots for whatever they represent and so on and so forth. Reilly says its homey, I'm thinking of another word.

I had just gotten back from the gift run at my parents where we store all the toys until Christmas Eve. Reilly had gone over last week and wrapped gifts with my mom and Jenna. Girl time. She needed the break, if you can call wrapping a bunch of toys a break. But I hauled everything inside, including Sean's bike that I thought I would have to put together, but my dad did it for me. He even followed me with it in his trunk so I wouldn't have to make two trips. Reilly arranged everything under our glittering, over or underachieving tree, depending on your opinion, as it shouted it was almost Christmas morning.

My eyes are heavy as I sit on the couch and think about our future while my wonderful wife was taking a relaxing and well-deserved bath. I work a lot of hours, many of them undercover, which can take me out of the house for days or weeks, sometimes even months as it had earlier this year. It makes life hard for Reilly trying to wrangle the household alone. And I had just found out a few days ago that the challenge was going to get even greater.

The boys know that I am a detective, and they think my absences are due to jobs in other cities where I help them with the bad guys. But generally, I remain in Chicago as a junkie named Dave or a high-level dealer named Nathan. I've been a fourth-grade teacher, a restaurant manager and custodian at the Shedd Aquarium, where I couldn't decide whether it was peaceful and zen at night or utterly terrifying. But each time I managed to get my man or occasionally woman. And the pay was great as it included a type of hazard duty wage and loads of overtime since I am basically on the clock the entire time. But my family was without me and though Reilly put on a brave face I know it was hard on her. Which is how I lay there wondering how the hell we were going to handle another child.

We were quite happy and satisfied with the two boys and decided that our family was complete after Sean had been born. But sometimes nature has a different path for you. Reilly had carried the news all alone for several days until I was around long enough that she was comfortable to give me the family update. I had sat in stunned silence for several minutes before I could manage some kind of emotion, which was a weak smile, it was the best that I could offer.

I worked too many hours as it was. Reilly worked part-time, seeing the boys off to school and then going to work and getting off in time to pick them up. It worked out perfectly. We paid our bills, had some leftover, but the thought of diapers and tiny outfits and Reilly not working or paying for childcare was enough to bring me to my knees or at the very least leave me short of breath. We had moved on, no more cribs or bouncy seats or middle of the night feedings. Little did we know.

I would push the thought out of my mind as if that would make a difference, but then it would pop back in. It would come to me as a tiny, blanket swaddled chubby cheeked little girl. A daughter. I have to admit I wouldn't mind a daughter. There was going to be seven years between this baby and Sean, so if it was a boy all he would feel is left out. But a baby girl would create her own little world, with two older brothers that would be there to watch out for her when I wasn't around. A little bundle of pink frills and lace. With big eyes and tiny fingers who would melt my heart each time she said Daddy.

I know Dad loved me, was always grateful that I was a boy when it was just the two of us. He loved Josh with all of his heart. But when Jenna started calling him Daddy, there was something inside of him that looked as if it would burst. A tenderness somehow only reserved for a little girl. I wanted to experience that. But if it was a boy of course I would love him just as much. The things all parents say.

I hear Reilly quietly pad down the stairs and run her fingers through my hair. "Are we going to find out?" I ask, as if she is supposed to know what I am talking about.

"About what babe?" She asks as she mashes herself next to me on the couch, her fuzzy lavender robe cinched tightly, a gift from last year's Christmas. I try to find decent gifts and I fail miserably. But she stated she loved it and does wear it frequently so I suppose that is worth something.

"About the sex of the baby?" I ask, twisting to look at her.

"Yes, I think so. I know we have to start over regardless, but knowing what to prepare for, what to tell the boys would be helpful I think."

"Me too."

"You want another boy?"

"Nope. I didn't want the first two we got," I tease. "What I want is a mini you. A little girl, who will look at me like her hero and have her mother's sweetness, generosity, and beauty."

"I'm sorry," she says quietly. "I know this isn't what we wanted or expected. I changed pills, I followed the directions explicitly. I should have just stayed on what I had."

"No," I say in harsh whisper. "This isn't on you. This is my fault. That pill gave you headaches, you couldn't continue on them. I should have gotten a vasectomy when I told you I would. When we decided Sean was our last child."

"We wanted to wait a year, remember? To be sure it's what we wanted. Then you are always so busy at work that even finding a doctor to have the procedure done was an impossibility."

"Clearly this child was meant to be then." I said putting my arm around my wife. "We'll figure out the details as they come. You know that Jenna will be nuts when she hears. And my mom—this is exactly the news she needs to hear right now."

"Your dad is a wonderful grandfather, and Josh loves being an uncle. We have help."

"We do. And my dad is a veteran of about one hundred Daddy Daughter dances, so I'll be ready for those if needed."

"I love you," Reilly beams at me. But I don't allow it to last.

"I have to be undercover as much as I can now," I explain even though she hadn't asked me to. It was true, youth was the key with most assignments. I was in my thirties now, but could pass for late twenties, with the right clothes and haircut.

"I know. Besides I think when you are with SWAT I'm just as nervous. Even when you are behind enemy lines, I feel like you are more in control when you are under. You know the signs to watch out for and you always promised that if it went sideways you would give up the case and bolt."

"I will always keep that promise."

"And I know the reason that you stay away is for our safety."

"Absolutely," I murmur. Part of the reason I am away for the long periods of time as once I assume an identity other than my own, I cease all contact with my family. I won't risk them being a part of anything I am involved in. But I am selfish, most men inherently are. I get to be a single, club hopping drug dealer, looking to score and a family man all in one. I get to live on the wild side in the name of employment, my endorphins popping and firing while my wife is making macaroni and cheese for the third time that week, being the homework warden and arguing about bedtimes. Then I get to come home and play with the kids and act like the hero by just being a father.

"The calm before the storm," I say as I look at the neatly wrapped, stacked presents.

"I still have to do their stockings," she says as she pulls away and tries to stand up. But I pull her back to me and kiss her.

"Let me help. You did nearly everything, no, you did do everything. Tell me what you need and I'll do it."

I know my assistance only slowed her down. But it was nice to share this experience. The boys were allowed to get up once it was light outside and open their stockings. Then they could wake us up. Not that we didn't hear them ooh and ahh over their small trinkets of matchbox cars and light-up bouncy balls. But it gave us a few blissful moments to wake up and hold each other before the onslaught of wrapping paper, bows, and flying boxes. There would be excitement, disappointment and jealously. Then we would go to my parents' house and go through it all again.

Last week we had traveled to Reilly's parents' house. We do it the weekend before Christmas every year. Saturday is the stand-in for Christmas Eve and Sunday becomes Christmas morning. They insist we spend the night. Something about matching pajamas and pancakes for breakfast are a must for the holiday to be complete. Reilly's mom, Donna, buys the boys matching pajamas to wear every year that they generally hate but they love the "Christmas" morning pancakes. And of course they love all the attention and gifts showered upon them, because Paw Paw and Mamaw or some such title, never get to see them. I despise the names but just smile through them. The quaint small-town charm is apparently lost on me.

And it is also my fault that they never get to see their own grandchildren because I swept their daughter away to the city where we are too busy to come back and visit. My father-in-law Ed is fascinated with my job, but I don't like talking about it in front of the boys or frankly in front of him either, so that leaves little else to discuss. Donna goes on about the crime and the lacking Chicago public school system and there must be something systemically wrong with me not to want to raise my children in a small town, namely the one they live in. There are several reasons why I don't wish to do that, and the main one is Donna and Ed. They are good people, but can't see beyond their own horizon. I have no issue with that, I just wish that would stop trying to define mine.

It helps that Reilly has zero interest in moving back home and hates the trips back even more than I do. The boys visit for a month in the summer and are more than ready to return to the "filthy urban environment" that we are raising them in. Donna and Ed rarely come to Chicago, they claim that it overwhelms them. Last summer they took a bus trip to the Art Institute with a senior group and were upset when Reilly couldn't get off work to have lunch with them. I have a feeling she didn't even bother to ask her employer, preferring to avoid the drama altogether, dealing with them when I'm there is one thing, on her own is another thing entirely. I imagine that they don't speak too kindly of me during their more intimate gatherings.

We both find time with my parents much less stressful. I drive through the alley and find their driveway and park the car, the boys taking off before I even get the key out of the ignition. I'm sure my mom, by some secret intuition that she picked up from her years on the run, will know that they are rushing her way and will get to the door just before they do.

The house is warm, a fire already blazing in the fireplace, my son's coats flung onto the kitchen floor as they rush into the living room and the Christmas tree. My mom turns and welcomes us as she gathers up the coats and kisses me, then Reilly on the cheek. I hear my dad tell the boys to wait, his voice carrying from the other room. We shed our coats and join the fray. Josh is on the couch looking at a box containing a model airplane, while Jenna is folding a new sweater. Dad is poking at the fire as Jamie and Sean are dancing as if they have completely full bladders. They are looking for their names on the remaining boxes under the tree. Some gifts are for the residents from us that I dropped off last night when I picked up the kids stuff. I know it's torture for them to wait, but life is all about waiting so I tell them to gather theirs up and then hold on for a minute.

Jenna jumps up and gives me a hug. She is always so happy to see me, where Josh plays it cool with just a head nod. Both have been amazing in their journey to healing. Josh still deals with nightmares and sudden bouts of rage while Jenna is prone to panic attacks. They both still see a therapist regularly, but have stayed away from most medications the last few years. Each have been hospitalized at times when they were younger, and it was all still so difficult for them. Neither seem to have any specific memories of their past any longer, but their minds still rebel. Every time I see Jenna, I can still feel the weight of her limp body in my arms as I carried her away that night. I can still see Josh's vacant eyes and the realization of just how close I was to not even being aware of his existence. It had only been the greed on the part of the seller that had made him known to me.

My mom breezes in with a tray of hot chocolate for everyone and after the boys take a rushed sip, we give them permission to open their presents. There are Lego sets and a magic kit, electronic gadgets, remote control cars and a racetrack. Reilly of course picked out all of our gifts that were handed out to my family. Tools for my dad, cookware for my mom, name brand clothing for Jenna, building kits for Josh. We received a gift card for a night in a local hotel which included babysitting and dinner beforehand, something in a box for Reilly that made her blush and Jenna giggle when it was announced that it was for the night in the hotel. I tried to get a look at it, but was told it would ruin the surprise. I got some work-out clothes and Bean paperweight for my desk that I rarely sit at. The boys were flushed with excitement at all of their new toys as my mother and Reilly began to gather up wrapping paper.

"How's school little brother?" I ask Josh who shrugs his shoulders back at me. "I punched the dry erase board in math class last week and I have no idea why."

"Get in trouble?"

"Not really. When that stuff happens though I have to see the therapist and provide proof that I did."

"Uncover anything?"

"Nope. Just the past creeping into my present."

"It's because we saw that news report about the traffickers in the Southwest." Jenna pipes up as she comes over so that I can put on the new necklace that Reilly had picked out for her. It was a heart that dangled on a silver chain. "We didn't mean to see it, the story just came on the news."

"I'm sorry," I say because I have no idea what else to voice as I fumble with the small necklace latch.

"I know, we know. But we'd be dead if you hadn't saved us." She reminds me.

"Save you from what?" Sean asks. He is terrible about eavesdropping and trying to be in the middle of everything. But to be fair he was only five feet away from the conversation.

"Save her from you," I say jumping up and scooping him into my arms, hanging him upside-down while shaking him playfully. Thankfully he is still young enough to be easily distracted. "Show me your magic set," I tell him, which further distracts him. But I look over at Josh and wonder if we need to talk later.

The kids hop from one toy to the next as I notice Josh pick up his model airplane box and head towards the stairs. Reilly and Jenna are chatting and laughing while my mom is sitting in my dad's lap, a huge smile on her face, as if she hadn't missed twenty years of our life. I quietly slip up the stairs, looking at the family photos hanging on the wall as I go. They have changed over the years and now include pictures of my wedding as well as the boys in various stages of life.

Josh's door is closed but I knock while I enter not giving him an opportunity to wish me away. "So tell me what's up?" I ask as I crash on his bed. I really just want to close my eyes and take a nap, but that would somehow take away from what I came up here to accomplish. I can't even begin to imagine how tired my father was all the time.

"I'm fine. It's all fine," he says waving his arms like Sean did with his new magic wand, as if he could magically catapult whatever his problems were into a distant space.

"I think not. I think something is bugging you and I'm not leaving until you tell me. So unless you want to share this tiny bed with me tonight, start talking."

Once the twins were stable and well established in the house, I had done my very best to play big brother to them. Give them a confidant to talk to when they needed someone else besides a parent. Even once I became a parent, I tried my very best to keep the lines of communication open. The relationship I had with both Josh and Jenna wasn't easy to define, but it is worth every bit of effort we put into it.

He heaves out a huge sigh and sets the model on his desk, sits in the office chair and spins to look at me. "You can't relate." He says with a forlorn look.

"Try me. I'm not as cool as I look," I tease.

"Pfft, right."

"What is going on? Seriously."

He looks like half of him wants to talk and the other half wants to either run away or punch me in the face. "I don't remember much that night. The night that you found us. I remember the hospital, you coming to visit us all the time. I recall being so happy to see you and so scared whenever you would leave. I remember the nurses prying me off of you." He reminisces.

"I remember that too. It broke my heart. I often wondered if I should have stopped visiting you, but that seemed even worse. Not remembering that night isn't necessarily a bad thing. I remember how amazing you were. You were so brave. Answering my questions, alert, aware."

"I was bleeding." I look at him as I sit up, my head twisted in uncertainty, waiting for an answer that I didn't want to know but had to hear anyway. "Just before you got me, I had been—the man that brought me out to you—he—he, was with me. He tore me. They always did of course. That's why he thought to bring me to you, because he had just—" but his voice faded away.

"Raped you." I filled in, knowing it needed to be said.

"Yes," he said as he cleared his throat. If not for that, I may not have been thought of, not been shown to you. I remember I didn't want you to ever know that. So many secrets."

My mind spins back to that night. After the kids had gotten settled in the hospital and I was told it was best if I left for the night. I was a bundle of nervous energy, so I went to clean out my car, clearing it of their debris from the snacks that I had bought. The car smelled faintly or not so faintly of urine from Jenna, but it was when I began to scrub the backseat that I saw the dark blood stains where Josh had been sitting. It didn't take a genius to figure out the origin of the blood. That's when I set the cleaner down and sobbed. Not such a secret after all.

"A team went back in, rescued the remaining kids. Or most of them anyway." I admitted moving the conversation along and trying to leave my own memories in the past. We feared that a few managed to get away with some of the children.

"Jenna will probably never be able to have kids. She had it worse, but—" He trails off.

"You had it just as awful and it wasn't right, and it wasn't fair." He is quiet and looks at the floor. "She can always adopt," I offer. "I hear that's where all the best kids come from—you get to pick for yourself."

He is fighting tears. "I have these amazing parents, your parents," he emphasizes, "who love me so much and have given up so much for us. Your mother raising us when she didn't raise you. You must hate us."

"Hate you? What? Never. I'm so glad it worked out as it did. I have never hated you. Not ever. Yes, I still have difficult feelings towards my mother at times, but it has nothing to do with you and Jenna."

"It's just weird that we were the age that you were when she left you. Like she just traded out or the baton was passed, I don't know what metaphor I want to use."

"Maybe that's because it was meant to be that way." I say laying back down.

"Maybe," he shrugged.

"Have you had a trigger lately?" I ask.

"It wasn't the news story that Jenna mentioned."

"Then what?"

"Maddie Flynn."

"Maddie Flynn?" I question.

"We were kissing and that was fine, then she—she," he stammers, "she put her hand on my crotch."

"Oh, I see." I say sitting back up. "Has that ever happened to you before?"

"Kissing yes. But not the other thing. I know I'm a late bloomer I'm sure you weren't' still a virgin at my age."

"We're not here to talk about my sex life." I remind him.

"How old were you? When you lost your virginity?"

"What did I just say?" But he looks at me with a beleaguered look on his face so I acquiesce. "Fifteen. I was in a committed relationship at the time—madly in love. And then not long after I screwed it all up. I am not the one to judge much of anything. So how did it feel with this next step?"

"Terrifying. It's like when you have to throw-up and you can't stop it from happening. I mean I held it together for a second or two, then told her I had forgotten something and was late and had to take off. And then I took off. She acted surprised and of course she was. The next day I apologized and she was nice about it, but how am I ever going to move forward with—things, if that is my reaction?"

"By punching a dry erase board?" I laugh. "Did you talk to your therapist about it? How to handle this particular trigger?" He stays quiet. "Didn't even mention it did you?"

"It's embarrassing. So much of my life is embarrassing. It's not fair what happened to me back then is causing me issues now. It's not my fault."

"It is most definitely not your fault. But unfortunately it is now your responsibility to help yourself for what others did to you."

He flops down next to me on the bed. "I just want to be in control. I mean I don't want to hurt anyone or anything, but I want to be in control of me, my world."

I smile. "Well when you figure that out, let me know. You have to talk to your therapist, they can help you figure it out. I'm sure you are not the first to struggle with this—unfortunately."

"I guess. But you have it all together. Super cop, great husband, fantastic dad, amazing son."

"I wasn't brutally abused as a child either. But kid, I'm hanging on by my fingernails. Work is all consuming. When I'm at work all I can think about is my family. When I'm home all I can think about is work. I worry about the bills, the house being too small, everything that Reilly is dealing with, not getting shot while at work worrying about all these things. Residual anger about everything that I couldn't control in life and still can't. Jamie is beginning to act so much like I did as a kid and that is freaking me out, and now—"

"Now what?" He asks pushing up on one elbow.

"And now, we are expecting another kid," I sigh.

"Oh crap."

"Yeah, oh crap. Nobody knows. I just found a few days ago, so please don't say anything."

"I won't." He assures me. "But now I get the small house reference."

I nod. "I mean we're going to tell everyone tonight, but the boys don't know. We aren't going to tell them until we have an ultrasound done. But we plan to tell Mom and Dad and you guys. So, no little bro, my life is not at all under control."

We had another few minutes of brotherly bonding where Josh promised he would talk out with his therapist in his next session and I actually could close my eyes for about three seconds before Jamie found us and said that they were putting on a magic show that we had to come downstairs for.

"It's refreshing out here," Dad says an hour later as his breath plumes out in front of him and he zips up his coat. As he slips on his hat and gloves the boys tumble out the door behind him. Their new remote control cars had finally charged and it was time to untangle the knot of energy that had been spilling everywhere. I watch and listen to their excited chatter as they head towards the quiet street. The streetlights casting plenty of light for me to keep an eye on them.

They rush by me with their cars and set them down on the pavement. "Jamie, zip up your coat," I yell out as I see his coat flap behind him.

"I'm not cold," he replies as his car begins its trek up the street.

"Zip it up or give me your car and go inside." I threaten.

"Ugh," he replies and then makes an exaggerated show of zipping his coat up.

"Don't say it," I warn my dad as he laughs. "I already know, he's just like me. And probably for the same reasons."

"And what are those?"

"Attention from a father who isn't around enough. I don't know how you did it Dad, I really don't. I have Reilly, a wonderful mother and wife and still am exhausted."

"First off, you have two kids. And I think you work even more than I did. You do a lot more extended undercover gigs. It's exhausting always pretending, always being on guard."

"You couldn't do them because of me." I remind him.

"I did what was needed of me. I had quite enough undercover time. And I hated being away from you."

"I need the money." I tell him, remembering his absences and how difficult they were.

"If you need some help," he begins.

"No, we're okay, I'm just trying to justify my absence. I blew it again this year."

"Doing what? Or not doing what?"

"One of my fondest Christmas memories was decorating cookies. It's one memory I have of my last Christmas with Mom and when I told you about it we tried it too. You brought home the cookies and decorating kit," I say before stopping and relishing the memory as he chuckles.

"You had more icing in your hair, your clothes, the table, the floor, your face. It was an epic failure."

"Nah, not even close. Yeah, the cookies were, but you didn't yell or get upset, you laughed and made sure we had one perfect cookie to leave for Santa."

"Yeah. The next year I think I took you skating instead."

"You did. But I had told Reilly about it and she said it was a great idea and decided a couple of years ago that we would have teams, one parent with one child against the other. But both attempts were thwarted because I couldn't make it home in time.

"Sometimes, there are things at work that I could put off until the next day, but I stay back and do them, when I could be home with my family." I admit, tears of failure welling up in my eyes.

"I did the same thing," Dad tells me as he hooks an arm around me and pulls me close. "Judgment free zone here son."

"I don't even know why I do it." I say, somehow not surprised at his admission.

"Me either. I guess sometimes it was easier not to see you at all, then come home just in time to say goodnight and feel all the guilt about missing another day in your life."

"Yeah, something like that. I'm afraid that I'll disrupt whatever rhythm or plan that Reilly has in action. Or more selfishly that I'll have to deal with a fight or procrastination because I'm home and they get all riled up again and I have to push them to settle down and go to bed. Then I feel like shit because all I do is discipline them. Jamie, come back this way!" I yell as I spot him several houses up.

Dad sighs. "I know, being police is a tough job, a calling I suppose. And because it is we often get a pass. And we use that pass at every opportunity we can."

"Getting the bad guys," I remind him of my childhood phrase.

"Yep, if you knew that I was out getting the bad guys it was okay that I was gone a lot. But it's also about control. I think we feel more in control when we're on the job than dealing with our children."

"Kids are tricky," I admit.

"They sure are. And woman are stronger and handle it better."

"They are and they do," I agree.

We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, thinking about past and present. "I had case yesterday morning. A woman strangled by her husband with Christmas lights. They were still plugged in and were those chasing ones so the lights just looked like they were going around and around her neck."

"Homicide?" He asks his eyebrows shooting up.

"I get loaned out. I actually have an open invitation/offer, whatever you want to call it."

"Yeah? Would you leave SWAT?"

"Better hours, for what that's worth. I mean not as much undercover, so no more "trips out of town," I say using my fingers for quotation marks. We suddenly heard a shriek and happy screaming in the house and I knew that Reilly had just announced our news.

"What was that about?" Dad asked looking behind us at the closed door.

"The reason for the conundrum."

"Say again?"

"The reason I need OT and at the same time be home more. Reilly's pregnant." I tell him as if she decided to do this all by herself.

"I take it it's yours?" He asks with tight lips trying not smile. "How did this happen?"

"Dad, you're the one that explained it all to me back in the day."

"Not that. How did you get to be in your thirties, married, a father, me a grandfather. Weren't you just ten?"

"About twenty years ago."

"Now, son, how did this happen?" He asks as he turns his head to look at me.

"I know this is not great timing. Reilly even apologized, but it's all on me for not getting a vasectomy five years ago like I promised. She switched pills and I guess this can happen sometimes." I ramble.

He nods and jams his gloved hands in his pockets. "Ah, but it's the unexpected ones that make the most difference, bring the most magic."

"Of course they do. I finally have an idea of how you felt with me."

"Your mother gets the credit. She did it all without me around, with no certainty that I would even come back and take any responsibility."

"She knew in her heart that you would."

"But for a time, that's not what my heart said. But I'm so glad her faith in me was correct. It'll be okay, we're here to help, and if it's a girl your mother will buy every pink thing in the city."

"I'm hoping for a girl."

"Yeah?" He asks. I nod. "Me too." He agrees.

"But a boy is fine, just as long as it's healthy."

"The world needs another strong woman in it. Do the boys know?"

"Not yet. We figured we'll tell them when we have an ultrasound picture. Next month sometime."

"This is just the news that your mom needs right now."

"Oh, wow, I'm so selfish and thoughtless. What did the doctor say?" I reply recalling that my mom had some appointments this past week.

"It could be worse; it could be better. They believe that the cancer should respond to chemotherapy and radiation, but they want some more scans."

"When are those scheduled for?"

"She wouldn't schedule them. Said she would wait until the new year to focus on it. That she wanted all her efforts focused on the holidays."

"Sounds like her. She's obviously a fighter. She'll beat this Dad."

His eyes water and swipes at them. "The thought of losing her now—we've had some great years together I thought we'd never have, but still."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's not fair, none of it is fair. Why don't you go inside and enjoy the big secret for a few minutes before I come inside with the boys."

"Sounds good," he says as he leans over and plants a kiss on my cheek and hugs me. "Love you Dad," I tell him as he turns to the front door.

"Love you more," he replies, his eyes crinkling as they smiled.

I give everyone ten more minutes to discuss the baby news and then haul the boys in before frostbite set in. I make a lot of noise opening the door and talking to the boys as loudly as I can without being obvious so everyone knows to change topics. I can't believe that next year at this time we will have an infant in tow.

Everyone scatters and finds something to do as I crash on the couch, barely taking my coat off before I do. I sink down into its softness as Jenna sits down next to me and pulls my coat into her lap and begins to play with the zipper. "How are you?" I manage to ask.

"Good. I'm good."

"School is okay?"

"Yes, I'm getting mostly A's a few B's."

"Boyfriend yet?" I ask.

"A guy I like, and I think he likes me. But I'm not sure if I'm ready."

"Is he nice? Respectful?"

"Yes and yes. If he isn't, I'll tell him I have a big brother who can kick his ass and then take the police report."

"Ha." I chuckle. "I'm so proud of you and Josh—you two have amazed me." She leans into me and puts her head on my shoulder.

"If not for you—"

"The world would have missed out," I finish. I look around for the boys and don't see them. "Excited about the news?"

"Oh my God yes. There's nothing better than a baby. I'm going to make a list of names. You don't have to use any of them, but it'll be fun."

"Sounds good to me. We're going to need all the help we can get." I say as I lay my head back and close my eyes.

"We had to write an essay on someone in our life who made some kind of difference. I chose you."

I'm not sure what to say to this. "You did?"

"I didn't include any details, but just the fact that you saved me in every way a person could be saved."

"Mom and Dad had an awfully big hand in that."

"But it started with you. And you stayed, you didn't just dump us and leave. You came to the hospital because you knew that your presence was vital in our healing, our ability to trust. That night—the night, you found us—"

I sit up straight. "You remember that night?"

"I do. You were holding me and somehow I knew that you weren't like all the others. You were so gentle, calm, I felt safe in your arms, and I had never felt that before."

"I had no idea you recalled any of that."

"And that's why you are my hero. You did your job, but it was more than that. You went above and beyond. You knew we were hurting beyond measure and stuck around to help patch the cracks that you could. You put the attention on us, didn't seek any glory; it was never about you. You did what you did because it was the right thing.

"I know that my love for you was unhealthy at first, but I didn't understand boundaries yet."

"Of course you didn't. But you got there. And you have blossomed into a brilliant young woman."

"And you didn't run away from me. You spoke to the therapists, learned how to deal with me in a healthy way and never showed your frustration, never threw it back in my face."

"You were a child. You didn't deserve any of what happened to you. Besides you saved my life so we're even kid."

"I love my necklace. Reilly said you told her I like hearts." She said ignoring her part in the fact that it was her phone call to 911 all those years ago that saved my life.

"I did. I remembered."

"I used to draw them everywhere."

"Yes, like on my arms with a marker," I remind her.

"Oh yeah, that's right," she giggled, "homemade tattoos.

"It's symbolic—the hearts. Mine was broken, but you helped heal it. Then you stole it, so I was always giving it back to you."

"That's deep." I tell her.

"Therapy."

"Ahh, of course, the deep dive into every corner of our conscience."

Her phone dinged and she was instantly sucked into a texting conversation, and I was all but forgotten. If I didn't get up, I would fall asleep and even though I desperately wanted to rest, I knew it would be short-lived and more aggravating than anything, so I got up and made my way to the kitchen.

I walk in to find my mother scrubbing pans and pie tins that have been soaking, while Reilly is drying and stacking them to the side. I walk up to her and wrap my arms around her from behind. "You need to go sit down and get some rest," I tell my wife whose face is flushed.

"I'm fine."

"You need to get off of your feet."

"My hero," she says handing me the dish towel.

I lean down and kiss her. "I love you," I tell her. I then kneel down and kiss her stomach, "and I love you," I tell our unborn baby. She looks at me and smiles.

"I'm going to start rounding up the new toys," she says.

"Sit and relax, I'll get the toys." She shakes her head and I know it will kill her to not feel productive for five minutes.

She finally disappears and I take the pan from my mother and dry it. "You are a good man," she says. "A good husband and father."

"I had a great father to show me how," I tell her.

"Yes you did," she agrees. "You look tired Love." Her favorite nickname for us all.

"I am."

"Do you work tomorrow?"

"I have the morning off."

"You work too hard."

I try not to laugh but do anyway. "Like father like son. Listen, Dad told me that you haven't made your appointments for your scans yet."

"I wanted to focus on the holidays."

"You still could have made the appointments for next month. That is just an excuse. You need to take care of yourself. Get on top of it."

Now it is her turn to laugh. "That's rich and ironic coming from you." I look at her with a quizzical look on my face. "Back when you decided to dive into a crumbling building and then insisted that you were fine until you collapsed and nearly died. Didn't really get a jump on that healing, did you?"

I sigh. "I guess not. But I was in the middle of an immature tantrum and listening to anyone wasn't what I wanted to do at that point in time. Believe me I paid for it by listening to more lectures than I can ever count. And that was a long time ago."

She shakes her head. "The thought of losing you. It about killed your dad, it about killed me."

"I guess that was the point," I admit. I wanted to hurt you. Make you feel the pain of loss like we felt when you left. It never occurred to me that you felt the same profound loss that we did. But I was stupid and nearly died because of it, but you are going to be better than that and call your doctor's office and get everything lined up."

"After New Year's."

"No, tomorrow!" I snap. "I have to help the boy's sort out their old toys and take them by the homeless shelter, but other than that I have nothing going on in the morning and will be happy to swing by and ensure that you call or call for you."

"Oh my, look you at you being all pushy."

"You fought too hard to come back to Chicago. You have too many people that love you to just pretend that this is no big deal. Think of that new grandchild."

"Oh, I'm so happy and excited," she says clapping her hands together.

"Then stay," I say quietly as I bring her to me and wrap my arms around her. She relaxes and melts into me. I'm not particularly tall, just shy of six feet, but she seems so small in my arms. It's as if she has been waiting for this moment her entire life, and all she had to do is get cancer in order to have it.

In that instant I regret all anger and frustration that I had hurled on her when she returned. I had been so selfish and unforgiving that I am now embarrassed. I had wasted so much time hating her and it was only when Reilly made me snap out of my self-centered labyrinth of emotions that I had begun the attempt to see beyond my own pain and betrayal.

It took time, but the healing had begun, and I have no idea if I would have ever been able to take that step on my own. But finally we are here; our journey is complete.

I hear footsteps and look over her head to see Dad come into the room. His eyes soften and a moist sheen finds its way to his baby blues. He comes over to us and we break apart and then pull him into our embrace. Our family, the one we had mourned for so many years has come together in this moment.

The three of us hug and I had never felt such a rush of love. Like three magnets that are finally pulled together, and I am so furious at myself for being so careless years ago when I was so busy pushing my mother away that I nearly died. What would that have done to them? Suddenly tears spring to my eyes and it's a struggle to not let them fall. Mom inhales deeply or maybe it's Dad, I'm not even sure. "You're going to beat this Mom," I say just as Sean pushes his way in and demands a hug. I wipe my eyes and lift him up and we all shower him with love. I can't fathom that this scene may had every possibility of not happening, that so many odds had been beaten to make it so.

We finally part and I allow Sean to lead me back into the living room, where Jamie is sitting between Josh and Jenna on the couch who are half-watching some Christmas movie on TV while tapping on their phones. Reilly is asleep in the recliner, and I see a mountain of stuff that I need to get into the car. I start to gather it up and Sean helps, he is a great helper and people-pleaser which helps make up for Jamie's more self-indulgent approach to life. If you took both boys and mixed them together you would discover my childhood personality; a little bit of bratty indulgence, but also a desire to please.

After loading and warming up the car I rouse Reilly who is embarrassed that she fell asleep, and we troop out to the car after saying goodnight for several minutes and pulling a promise from my mother that she would call her doctor's office first thing in the morning. I assured her that I would be checking.

Once home, Reilly shepherded the boys upstairs to bed while I hauled in their presents and set them in a corner of the living room. They would not be allowed to play with any of their new items until we sorted their old toys and came up with a donation pile. They weren't particularly thrilled with this holiday tradition, but if we didn't force their generosity, we would be drowning in toys. Within a week they never even remembered what they had given up, and kids who had little to nothing could enjoy a well-loved toy.

I go upstairs after locking up to find Reilly putting her nightgown on and brushing her hair. "So, are you really happy about the baby or was that a show for your mom?" She asks.

"Both," I admit. "Now that we've shared the news and everyone else is thrilled, I guess I might as well be too. Besides seeing those pictures of my dad with Jenna has me excited at the prospect of having a daughter." I say as I have visions of her tiny feet on mine as we dance wearing her mother's smile as she looks up at me.

"And what if it is a boy?"

"Then he and I will have a special relationship because it will just be the two of us for a lot of things since his brothers will continually leave him behind. Jenna is going to come up with a list of names. Don't worry I didn't promise her we'd choose one of her suggestions. But do you think that maybe I could have a hand in naming this one?"

"Hmmm. Depends how nice you are to me during this pregnancy."

"Am I not the best when you are pregnant?"

"You're pretty good, but it helps if you are actually around."

"Yeah, that. I'll need to try and get some serious hours into our bank account before the baby is born. We need to talk about your work situation and then the whole bedroom problem."

We had two bedrooms. But the basement was finished as Kyle Casey had come over countless times to help me as payback for all the babysitting, I had done for him and Madison when his girls were young. As of now, we had a small office and a rec room down there, but there was enough room to frame in a bedroom for the boys so the baby could have the upstairs bedroom. Jamie will love the separation from us, but Sean will hate it. So much to deal with and this baby was still six months away.

"We'll figure it out, we always do." She said sleepily. "Just no long-term undercover situations once I pass the seven-month mark."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Speaking of dreams, I'm ready to have some." She took my hand and pulled me towards her and I sat down on the bed next to her. "Will you hold me?"

"All night long," I promise. "But first we need our Christmas dance," I say pulling her up and digging for my phone from my pocket. It is our tradition on Christmas night to take a few minutes to ourselves and have a slow dance and hold each other. I find a song and set my phone down as she nests her head on my chest.

"Only for you Liam James Halstead," she mumbles into my shirt. And I wonder how I got so lucky to find a woman who I have no doubt loves me with all of her heart.

It is hard but we find ways to spend time with each other. Once a month my parents take the boys overnight so that we can have the house to ourselves. And another night in the month the neighbor watches them so we can go to dinner, or a movie or just a stroll around town. Life can consume us, and we promised that we wouldn't lose each other in its turbulence.

After our dance we lay side by side in bed as I bend myself around her, my hand on her belly. "How is your mom feeling?" She asks quietly.

"Fine for now. Or at least that's what she wants us to believe."

"She's a tough cookie, she'll beat this thing." Reilly said as she drifted off to sleep. And my mom did, she beat it for over three years, until she didn't.

To be continued...