I am absolutely overwhelmed by the lovely feedback I'm getting on this story. Having and idea that you love, writing, and posting it can be scary, not knowing how it is going to be received. I appreciate each and every one of you who has taken the time to let me know your thoughts, especially when you comment on multiple chapters. You certainly inspire me to keep going. This is another longer chapter. I hope you enjoy. (Sorry to have missed your birthday, guest. Happy belated, and I hope this is an adequate gift)


Pick Up on Aisle 10: Chapter 7

"Married?"

"Married," he repeated. "It would simplify so many things. We don't have to shuffle them back and forth. They have one home. We're both there. We get to raise them together."

She shook her head. "We talked about that. That a baby isn't really a good reason to get married. The fact that it's two doesn't change that."

"No, you said a baby wasn't a good reason. I think it's as good as any. Probably better than some."

He took both of her hands in his, warming to the topic.

"They won't outnumber us. We can share the middle of the night feedings and diaper changes and walking the floors. We'll both get more time with them, too. At my age, I know I might not see them reach adulthood. I want to be able to spend as much time with them as possible. I want Pops to have time with them. But I want you to have that, too. If we're married and living together, it's better for us and them."

She chewed her lip, considering his argument.

"I suppose it does kind of make sense. We can spend time together over the next few months, maybe consider getting married after they're born."

Frank shook his head. "I'm thinking the sooner the better," he told her. "That way, you can get settled in and we can work together to get everything ready. Get a routine in place. Though babies have a tendency to send routines out the window."

"You want to do it before the birth? Before a paternity test?"

"Yeah. That way, you'll have us there looking out for you. I saw your face when Angie told you that you would probably end up on bed rest and that you needed to start now taking things easier. Letting your family take on more of the load with household chores. And I don't know that I feel the need for a paternity test."

"I know. I'm not sure how to manage that," she admitted. "It's a little embarrassing to admit that you don't have family."

"This is how you'll manage that," he told her. "We get married. You move in. You have family ,"

"What if something happens?" she asked. "What if something goes wrong and we lose them? What if you find someone else? Fall in love again? Do we end the marriage? And are we talking about a marriage of convenience? In name only? Separate bedrooms?"

He reached out hesitantly, allowing his hand to rest on her stomach.

"Marriage is a lifetime commitment. If something happens, we mourn our loss together and we get through it. As for finding someone else, I'm not looking. Especially if we're married. It's far more likely that you would find someone else. You're young and beautiful and successful."

She laughed, shaking her head. "I'm approaching 50, Frank. Hardly young and I'm not looking, either."

"Exactly," he answered. "We've both been married before. We've both had the great love of our lives. Why not marry someone we like so we can raise our children together? As for the other question…"

He reached up to cup her cheek.

"That's entirely up to you. I'm a normal man. I always enjoyed the physical nature of a relationship. Of marriage."

Running his thumb across her lower lip and looking deeply into her eyes, he continued.

"I'm very attracted to you. I enjoyed sharing a bed with you. I enjoyed holding you. Falling asleep and waking up with you in my arms. I really enjoyed having sex with you."

She ducked her head slightly, a blush coloring her cheeks.

"But I'm not going to push for anything you don't want."

Leaning forward, she lightly pressed her lips against his.

"I enjoyed it, too," she admitted quietly. "I think that was the best I had slept in ages. It's been a long time since I felt so safe and protected."

"Even though my nightmares woke you up?" he asked.

"It wasn't for long," she told him with a shrug. "You were calling out to your family members. Telling them to run. Or to get down. But you were still holding me very protectively. And you calmed down pretty quickly."

"You have a very soothing bedside manner," he replied, returning her kiss. "Our kids will be lucky to have you as their mother."

"Do you really think so?" she asked.

"I do," he answered. "And that means doing everything you can to get them here safely, right?"

Hesitantly, she nodded.

"Including taking it easy, like the doctor said?"

Another nod

"Let other people take care of chores and stuff?"

"I live alone, Frank. It's not like there's a whole lot of chores to be done."

"But you have some. You have to eat. That means shopping. Cooking. Cleaning up. Laundry. Housework. Most of which require being on your feet and moving around. In addition to however long your workday is."

"I can figure out things."

"But you don't have to," he explained again. "Pops does all the meal planning. He does the grocery order online and has it delivered or one of us picks it up. He cooks most of the meals, which he thoroughly enjoys doing. I clean up the kitchen. Except on Sundays, when we have the whole family over for dinner and everyone pitches in with the cooking and the clean up."

"Okay."

"We tend to clean up after ourselves as we go, and we have a cleaning service that comes in once a week. They change the beds, wash the sheets and towels, and do some of the bigger housework stuff. They also do major cleanings a couple of times each year. We each do our own laundry, but I could handle yours as well as my own."

He paused, brow wrinkled as he considered.

"I'm sorry. I'm assuming you would move in with us. You said that you own your house. You probably want to be there, with your memories."

She shrugged. "It doesn't really matter. I'm sure you have a whole lot more at your house. Which can either tie someone to a place or push them away when they're thinking to start a new phase in their life. I like my house, but I've been there alone for most of the time I've lived in it and my memories aren't tied to the place."

"So you wouldn't have an issue moving?"

She looked at him, shaking her head. "I'm not adverse to moving, but I'm still not sure that getting married and moving in together is the best course of action for us."

"Okay. What are your concerns?" he asked.

She shook her head again, running her fingers through her hair. "So many concerns that I don't even know where to start." After a moment, she focused her attention on him again. "Your family. I can't imagine they'll be happy with this whole thing."

Frank winced slightly. "Probably not at first."

"And you've got two lawyers in the family. They're definitely going to insist on a paternity test."

"It's my life and my decision. They don't get to insist on anything."

"Look, Frank. They love you. They're going to be concerned. They're in law enforcement and have seen all kinds of fraud and manipulation. They don't know me and have no reason to trust me."

"Again. That's my decision. I told you. My gut says I can trust you."

"And you know that if we're married, you'll be listed as the father."

"I don't have a problem with that, since I am the father. Right?"

"Yes, you are, but I'm sure your family would be more comfortable if you waited for a paternity test to claim them."

"And I'd be more comfortable having this settled as soon as possible. Being able to keep an eye on you and take care of you."

"It's possible to do a test before the birth," she told him.

"But it would be risky, right? Like the testing she was talking about?"

"It would."

"Then, no. I'm not willing to risk the health and well-being of you or our children just to satisfy anyone else about a question that I don't even have,"

She smiled, but then shook her head. "Then there's your father. You live with him, right? Or he with you?""

"Yes, we live together," he told her, bracing himself for her protest. How many women would want to live with their father in law?

"How do you think he would feel about you bringing a strange woman into his home?"

"You're not a strange woman, Lucy. You would be my wife."

"Who is a stranger to him. In fact, you're not only asking him to accept me into his home, but pretty soon, two newborns."

"My wife and our newborns," he clarified. "His grandchildren. I really don't think he's going to have an issue with that."

"I don't know. I feel like I'd be imposing on him. Making more work for him, if you're expecting him to pitch in to take care of me."

"Okay," Frank replied, taking out his phone. "Let's ask him."

He pressed the button to make the call and put it on speaker. The duo listened to the ringing. Finally the older man answered.

"Hey, Pops."

"Hello, Francis."

Frank glanced at his watch.

"How close is dinner to being ready?" he asked.

"It's pretty close to it. I can have everything on the table in 5 minutes once you get here."

Frank smiled at Lucy. "You have enough for one more? She doesn't look like she eats much."

Lucy started shaking her head, trying to decline.

"Of course I have enough. I always have extra just in case one of the kids shows up needing a meal."

"Good," the younger Reagan told him. "Set out another plate 'cause I'm bringing home company. And she needs to be eating soon so she doesn't get nauseous."

"Lucy?"

"Yes, sir. In the flesh."

"Good. It's about time I get to meet her."

"We should be there in about 30 minutes."

"I'll see you then."

He leaned forward, instructing this driver to take them home.

"Why did you do that, Frank?" she asked.

"Because I've been talking to Pops about you and I think that it's time that you actually meet. And you can ask him yourself how he feels about our whole situation."

"And he'll be honest? Not just say what he thinks you want to hear?"

Frank snorted. "You clearly don't know Henry Reagan. He kind of has a reputation for speaking his mind and leaving absolutely no doubts about what he thinks."

"He was a police officer, too, right?"

"He was. Up until he quit the force to become PC. Just like me."

"I think I have actually met him," she replied.

"Oh?"

"I doubt he would remember. It was a long time ago. Back when my parents passed away, so about 40 years. "

"You lost both of your parents at the same time?" He remembered their conversation at the diner the night they met and amended his comment. "Both died the same time?"

"Honestly, I'm not really clear on the details. I was 8 years old and either wasn't told much or don't remember. And I guess I've never been curious enough to look into things since I grew up."

"From what you've said about your parents, that's understandable."

She looked over at him. "I told you that my father was a police officer, didn't I?"

"You did."

"I guess he was somewhere down in your father's chain of command. When he got himself killed…car accident, I think…I guess your father came to our house to break the news to the family."

Staring out the window at the traffic passing, she let her mind drift back.

"As it happened, the night before, he had beaten my mother to death and tried to do the same to me."

Frank drew in a deep breath and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"She had hit me across the face for something earlier in the day, and when he saw, he got really angry." She looked up at him. "Not the fact that she had hit me, but that she had hit me where it left a visible mark. My school had already asked some questions, apparently."

He nodded, reaching over to take her hand.

"He was at that sweet spot. Drunk enough to have lost control, but not drunk enough to pass out. I remember them yelling and hitting each other, but he was bigger and stronger and finally, she stopped fighting back."

She paused, her thoughts back on that night.

"Then, he started in on me. Somehow, I managed to get loose and ran back to my room and hid under my bed. I heard him banging around for a while, trying to find me. Finally it got quiet. I either fell asleep or passed out. The next thing I remember was the bed being moved and a man sitting down next to me, telling me that I was safe and that no one would hurt me anymore."

Looking up at him again, she smiled. "He told me his name was Henry Reagan and that everything would be okay. He rode with me in the ambulance to the hospital and stayed for a while. Even came back to visit me a couple of times before I was released into foster care. Gave me a stuffed rabbit that I still have."

Frank pulled her close and she rested her head on his shoulder. "I think he was the first person I ever really felt safe with."

He leaned down, pressing a light kiss on the top of her head. "I'm so sorry you had to deal with that."

Shrugging, she looked up at him. "It's past. And it's what made me who I am, I suppose. I was put in counseling. Things got better. Though I still have moments when things hit all over again."

"PTSD," he acknowledged.

"I'm surprised I wasn't the one having nightmares that night," she told him.

"Have you?" he asked. "About what happened?"

"A few," she admitted.

Feeling the vehicle come to a stop, he looked out the window to discover that they had arrived at his house.

"We're here," he told her, watching as she took a deep breath, leaning around him to study the house.

His driver opened the door and he slid out, then turned back, giving her time to gather herself. Finally, she unbuckled her seat belt and slid across the seat, allowing him to assist her to step down.

Smiling down at her, he tapped her lightly on the nose.

"Chin up, Lucy. You've got this."

"I do, don't I?" she agreed.

He motioned her ahead of him, his hand resting on her back to guide her along the walk and up the steps to the back door. He reached to push it opened, then guided her inside.

"Is that you, Francis?" a voice called as they stopped just inside.

"It's us, Pops," he answered as he set his briefcase on the side table, then removed his overcoat and hung it on a peg. He motioned for Lucy to set her purse next to his case, then helped her with her coat.

"He's going to remember," he leaned close to whisper to her.

When they entered the kitchen, Henry was waiting for them. He nodded to his son before turning his attention to the woman next to him.

"You must be Lucy," he said, studying her with narrowed eyes.

She held his gaze, determined not to falter under his scrutiny.

"I am. Lucy Makenna." She held out her hand. "Thank you for having me, Mr. Reagan."

After several moments, he finally reached out and took her hand.

"Henry will do just fine," he told her. "Go ahead and wash up and have a seat. I just have to get the last of it on the table."

"Can I help with anything?" she asked.

"No, I've got it. I hope you like eggplant parmesan. Francis didn't mention any dietary issues."

"I'll eat pretty much anything. Eggplant sounds delicious," she told him, stepping to the sink to wash up before settling into the chair that Frank had pulled out for her.

After grace was said, the three dug in. Frank and Lucy both complimented Henry on the tasty meal.

The silence was comfortable as they ate, conversation limited to the distribution of food on the table. Feeling his gaze on her, Lucy looked up to meet Henry's eyes.

"We've met before, haven't we?" he asked her.

She glanced over to see Frank smirking before responding.

"You have a great memory, Henry. We have met. It was about 40 years ago when I was 8 years old and my name was Lucy Callahan."

His eyes widened, then he sighed, setting his fork down.

"You're Seamus's little girl."

She nodded.

"I never could get those green eyes of yours out of my head."

He looked at Frank. "Does he know?"

"She told me what she remembers from that time," the younger man said.

"I'm not sure if I've forgotten things or if they just weren't told to me, considering my age and the trauma," she admitted.

"Probably some of each," Henry replied, getting up to take his plate to the sink. "I can fill in what I know, if you'd like."

She took another bite, nodded, then pushed her plate away.

"Okay. I know you were somewhere up in the command at my father's house. I guess when…whatever…happened, you were responsible for informing his family."

Henry thought for a few moments before launching his tale.

"He wrecked his patrol car on his way in to work that morning. Ran it into a concrete bridge support. Died on the scene. First responders reported a strong smell of alcohol. Busted up knuckles that there was no reason for. Blood on his uniform, on the bottoms of his shoes. Several things that just didn't feel right."

Lucy nodded.

"His partner admitted that the drinking had been an ongoing issue and that he had a bit of a violent streak. We showed up at the house not really knowing what we would find. No one answered the door, and we could see signs of a struggle through the window, so we went in. That's when we found…"

"My mother," she contributed.

It was Henry's turn to nod.

"She was gone. Beaten to death. Blood everywhere."

The men were watching her closely to see her reaction to the recounting, but her expression remained stoic.

"We knew they had a little girl, so the team started looking for you. Calling your name. But you didn't respond."

"I was scared," she admitted.

"Understandably. One of the men finally found you under a bed. It was pretty low and they were trying to figure out who was small enough to crawl under there to get you out."

"And you called them idiots and told them to just move the bed," Lucy recalled with a laugh.

"That definitely sounds like my Pops," Frank commented.

Henry swallowed hard. "When I saw her, I was afraid we were too late for her, too. She was in pretty bad shape."

Frank reached over to cover her hand with his own. She threw a grateful smile in his direction.

"It was those green eyes," the older man continued. "She looked up at me, and I saw fight in those eyes. And I knew she would be okay."

"You sat there with me and rode with me in the ambulance to the hospital. Even stayed with me until the social worker arrived."

She looked at him, reaching over to touch his hand.

"I don't think you have any idea how much what you did meant to me."

"It wasn't really much," he protested.

"It was more than anyone else had ever done for me. You even came back to see me a couple of times in the hospital. Brought me a gift."

He shook his head sadly. "It wasn't nearly enough. It wasn't what I had hoped to be able to do for you."

"What was that?" she asked.

"I had hoped to find you a home," he told her. He glanced at Frank, a guilty look on his face. "I had actually planned to talk to Frank and Mary.. See if they might be willing to take you. You were just a little older than Joe and I thought you'd fit right in. If they couldn't, I was going to ask Betty about the two of us taking you in."

Frank and Lucy both looked surprised.

"I don't remember you ever saying anything, Pops."

"I never did. That was about the time we found out Jamie was on the way. Mary was having a tough pregnancy and trying to manage three young kids, Erin still a toddler, so Betty was helping out as much as she could there. I didn't want to ask any more of either of them."

"Of course not," Lucy told him. "It sounds like everyone had their hands full already without adding a traumatized child."

"Mary and mom probably would have agreed," Frank commented.

"I know. That's why I didn't say anything," Henry admitted. "I'm sorry. I should have done more."

"It's okay," she assured him. "You had to do what was best for your family and I ended up just fine."

"He did just prove my point, though," Frank told her.

Lucy gave him a puzzled look. "What point?"

"That he agrees that you should be a Reagan, too."

She looked at him and rolled her eyes.

"A long time ago and a very different situation, Francis."

When they both looked at her, she ducked her head in apology.

"Sorry. Frank."

The man patted her hand.

"Francis is fine."

"It is his name," Henry commented.

"I thought maybe only your father calls you that."

"I suppose he is. But I kind of like the way you say it," Frank told her with a smile.

"It fits you," she replied.

"Thank you. Lucille?" he guessed.

She shook her head.

"Lucia? Lucinda?" Henry ventured.

"No."

"Lucius?"

She laughed. "Another no. Honestly, my parents were apparently of the 'keep it simple' school of naming. My birth certificate simply lists me as 'Lucy Callahan.'"

"Not even a middle name?"

"Nope."

"I thought I saw a middle initial on something you signed at the doctors office," Frank said.

"You did," she told him. "When I was doing the paperwork to change my name after I got married, I went ahead and added in a middle name."

"What did you choose?"

"Dawn."

"For a new beginning," Henry said with a nod.

"Probably a little corny, but, yeah."

After a few moments, Henry remembered a comment Frank had made.

"Hey. What did you mean about me thinking she should be a Reagan, too?" he asked.

"Oh, That." Lucy looked at him then at Frank. "Your son is of the opinion that we should get married."

"That's what I said from the beginning," Henry told her.

She looked at him in surprise. "What?"

"It was the expectation in your…situation…back in the day."

"You would encourage your son to commit himself to a loveless marriage?"

"Would it really be loveless?" he asked.

She looked at Frank. "Well, yeah. I mean, we like each well enough, but we don't really know each other well enough for it to be otherwise."

The older man leaned forward, studying her intently.

"There are many different forms of love, Lucy. You would be doing it for your child, right?"

"Yes."

"Because you want what's best for your child, because you love him, right?"

Looking at Frank, she nodded again.

"The two of you are clearly comfortable together and really like each other," he commented, nodding towards their joined hands. "What would be so wrong about two people who enjoy being together starting a marriage based on mutual love for their child?"

"But is that enough?" she asked.

"If you're both determined to make it work, it is," he assured her. After a moment of thought, he turned his attention to his son. "But when I mentioned marriage the other day, you gave me some line about people not doing that anymore. That you could pass the kid back and forth like a hot potato and everything would be fine."

"That's not quite what I said."

"But that was the general gist of it."

"Generally."

"So, what changed your mind? Did something come up at your appointment today? Is everything okay?"

"Everything is good overall," she assured him after a glance at Frank. "I'm old, but basically in good health. They did an ultrasound and said that everything there looked good."

"Jamie and Eddie were showing me one of those ultrasound pictures a few weeks back. Never could make out much."

Lucy had started to go get the album from her purse, but paused at his words. Frank saw her disappointed look and took over.

"So, you don't want to see ours?"

"Of course I do," he told them. "Just because I need you to explain it to me doesn't mean I don't want to see it. It's my grandbaby, for goodness sake."

Henry quickly finished clearing the table while Frank retrieved the album from Lucy's bag. He opened it to reveal 2 side by side pictures and handed it to his father. The older man adjusted his glasses and studied the prints.

"What am I looking at here?" he asked, laying the book on the table so that the other two could see it.

"This is the head. You can make out the face here…nose and lips…spine…arms and legs…" she explained, pointing to the relevant features.

Frank took over, pointing to the other picture. "That's baby A. You can see the same features here on baby B."

He grinned at Lucy, then they both turned their attention back to Henry.

He studied the pictures, nodding slowly. "Yes, I can see that, now that you've pointed them out." Carefully, he flipped to the next page in the album, grunted, then looked up at them.

"Baby C and D?" he asked.

Frank laughed out loud and Lucy gave a strangled cough.

"Dear God in heaven, no," she replied.

"A and B are enough to send us into a tailspin, Pops. Any more would have given me heart failure."

"Me, too," Lucy echoed before turning to glare at Henry.

"Quadruplets? Really?"

"No?"

They both shook their heads.

"But doesn't the thought make twins seem a little less overwhelming?"

"No," they answered in unison.

He reached over and took their joined hands in his own, smiling broadly at them both.

"This is wonderful. Exciting."

"Terrifying," Lucy added.

He sat back in his chair, looking back at the pictures, then at them again.

"I understand."

"Having two seriously complicates the whole idea of shared custody. Arranging moving them both from one house to the other on a regular basis is a bit of a logistical nightmare, especially since we both have jobs that sometimes require long and irregular hours," Frank explained.

"I know some people leave the kids in one house and the parents alternate who stays with them," Lucy commented.

"Still sounds complicated," Henry said.

"And that still wouldn't solve some of the other issues we discussed," Frank replied, turning to look at her again. "Either one of us alone would still be left trying to manage two babies. Whoever isn't there, is missing out on time with them and we both want to have as much time with them as possible. Children grow and change so fast and I don't want to miss out on any of that."

"Me, either," Lucy agreed.

"Me, either," Henry chimed in.

"And there's still the issue of you needing help during the pregnancy."

Henry's brow wrinkled in concern. "What kind of help?"

Frank looked at his father. "She's got several factors going on that make this a high risk pregnancy for her, Pops. She's older than 35, so it's called a geriatric pregnancy."

She glared at him. "I told you…"

"And she really doesn't like that word, so we try to avoid it."

Henry laughed. "I'm not crazy about that word myself and I'm a whole lot older than she is."

"She also had a baby that was stillborn."

"I'm so sorry," the older man told her, reaching over to rest his hand on her arm. "Losing a child at any age is unnatural."

She nodded. "We were devastated."

"Her size was also cause for some concern, but is even more so with her carrying twins. She has a higher risk of early labor and will probably end up on bed rest. The doctor wants her to start cutting back on her work hours and try to spend more time taking it easy."

"So it makes even more sense for her to move in here so we can take care of her," Henry stated.

"Exactly what I've been telling her," Frank agreed.

"What's the problem?" Henry asked her. "Is it the fact that he still lives with his father?"

"Not at all. It just doesn't seem fair to you. Either one of you," she explained. "It benefits me and makes more work for you. I'd feel like I'm imposing on your space."

"I do benefit," Frank told her. "Knowing you're going to be coming home, coming here, at the end of your workday. Being able to see you, to check up on you. To know that you're okay. That you're eating and resting like you should be. That's important to me and will help me feel less stressed."

"You just let us worry about what's fair for us," Henry told her. "My experience has been that in a family, different members carry more of the load at different times. For now, you'll be the one needing more help. When Francis got shot, he needed more help. When I had my heart attack, I was the one needing to be taken care of. It's all about doing things for each other when we can."

"I don't think she's very good at letting people help her," Frank told his dad.

"It generally hasn't been an option," she told him. "Most of my life, I haven't had anyone to count on but myself. And my childhood was full of warnings about being a burden and I don't want to do that."

"Do you consider our children burdens?" Frank asked her.

"Of course not."

"Me either. I want to take care of them, but right now, you're the only one who can do that. All I can do is to take care of you."

"We can do," Henry interrupted.

"All WE can do is to take care of you, Lucy."

She shook her head, then looked at him.

"It makes sense, but it just doesn't feel right, somehow."

"Why not?" he asked gently.

"I don't know!" she exclaimed, frustration clear in her voice. "It just doesn't."

Frank stood up and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be pushing. I know it's been an overwhelming day."

"It has been," she agreed. "But I shouldn't be yelling at you for trying to do what you think is right. Please forgive me." She looked up at him.

"It's okay," he assured her.

She turned to Henry.

"Don't worry about it, Doll," he told her. "We just need to back off."

"Thanks. I think I just need some time to assimilate all of this," she told them, picking up the album with the ultrasound pictures.

"I'm going to listen instead of talking," Frank told her. "What do you need right now? What can I do?"

She leaned against him. "This. This is good."

"Any time."

After a few minutes, she pulled away and looked at her watch.

"It's getting late. I should probably head home and get to bed."

He pulled out her chair and offered a hand to help her rise. "You work tomorrow?:

"Yeah. I start at noon, but I'll go in earlier so I can talk to my supervisor about my schedule. See if we can cut back on my hours some."

"Sounds good," he told her. "Let me let my driver know we're ready to go." He pulled out his phone as he went to get her coat.

She turned to Henry and offered her hand.

"Thank you so much for dinner. It was delicious."

"You're welcome here any time," he told her, pulling her into a hug as Frank came over, holding her coat for her.

"Give her my number, would you, Francis?" When the younger man nodded, he turned back to Lucy. "You let me know if there's anything I can do for you."

"Thank you," she told him.

As she went to the door and got her purse, Henry leaned close to Frank.

"I like her, Francis."

"Thanks, Pops."

The ride to her house was quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. She leaned over, resting her head against his shoulder, her hand nestling comfortably in his.

"Weird, isn't it?" she commented. "To think that you could have been my father. Or brother?"

"Yeah. How about we never mention that again?"

"Agreed."

When they arrived, he helped her out and walked with her to her front door, taking her keys and unlocking it. She stepped inside to turn off the alarm, then returned to the threshold to face him.

"Thank you, Francis. For going with me. For dinner. For the ride home."

"You're very welcome. I enjoyed myself."

"And for backing off on the marriage idea."

He studied her in the porchlight.

"I still think it's the best option, but someone recently told me that she didn't want to pressure me into something I didn't want to do, so I will endeavor to do the same."

"I appreciate that. I'm not saying 'no' or that I don't think it's a good idea, I just need time to think about it. I like my life the way it is and all these changes are a little scary."

"It is for me, too," he admitted. "I have my routines and my habits and my ways of doing things and that's all about to change. My fears tend to manifest as attempts to control everything. I'll try to do better."

"Me, too. Just be patient with me, please."

He looked down at her and smiled.

"I will. The three of you are worth the wait."

He rested his hand on her stomach for a moment, leaning down to whisper a quiet 'Good night, kids," before pulling her close and capturing her lips in a heated kiss.

Breathing heavily, he stepped back and smiled, reaching over to trace her lower lip with his thumb.

"Sleep well, Lucy Dawn. Sweet dreams."

"You, too, Francis," she replied.

The husky tone of her voice almost had him reaching for her again, but he reminded himself of his promise to give her time.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

She nodded, stepping back into her house.

"Lock up and set the alarm," he reminded her, listening for the click of the locks before returning to his vehicle.

Buckling himself in the seat, he took a deep breath, detecting the fresh scent of her shampoo and body wash. He thought about the kiss they had shared and smiled again.

Definitely worth the wait.


And I hope this chapter was also worth the wait. Lucy had now received the approval on one more Reagan. I think there will be about 2 ot 3 more chapters until she is introduced to the rest of the family. As always, I'd love to know what you think.