J.M.J.

Author's note: Thank you for reading! Thanks especially to everybody who left reviews! The next chapter will be out tomorrow. God bless!

October 9 – Monday

The Hardy home was seldom in disorder, but right now, it was picture-perfect. There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere, the carpets had been vacuumed three times over, and even the doorknobs had been polished. The only room in the house that there might have been room to quibble with was the kitchen, but the delicious smells emanating from it more than made up for any slight deficiency in cleanliness. Gertrude had teased Laura about the house looking like she was expecting royalty, but she had been expending just as much nervous energy in cleaning and in cooking all the boys' favorite foods as Laura had. Both women would have preferred going to the airport to welcome the boys, but the castaways had all agreed that they would rather each be taken to their own homes to see their families for the first time privately, rather than being overwhelmed by so many people being at the airport.

They were supposed to be arriving any time now. Fenton had texted about fifteen minutes ago that they were leaving the airport, and that was about the length of time it took to drive from there to the Hardy house. Both Laura and Gertrude kept going to the window to peer out.

"I still can't quite believe it," Laura said as she turned away from the window once again. "All this time, we thought they were gone, but they were really stuck on that island. I feel so guilty."

"I don't see why you should," Gertrude replied. "Silly, maybe, but not guilty. It didn't make any difference to the boys what any of us believed. Fenton wouldn't have found them any faster."

"I know, but…You don't suppose they'll hold it against us, do you?"

Gertrude raised an eyebrow. "Those boys? Don't be ridiculous. They wouldn't hold anything so silly against their worst enemy, let alone their own mother."

Laura smiled. "I hope so." At that moment, she saw her husband's car pull into the driveway. "They're here!" she cried, rushing toward the door.

Frank and Joe jumped out of the car as soon as they saw her with Gertrude right behind. There were a lot of hugs and tears as they were reunited. Even in the midst of it, Laura noted that both her sons looked well, despite a few fading bruises. They had gotten haircuts and shaved, so she didn't see them as they had looked the last few months, and the brisk fall weather—such a difference from the heat and humidity of the island—had given Joe an excuse to cover the worst of his injuries with a jacket and a scarf. However, when they went inside, Joe was obliged to remove the scarf, and both his mother and his aunt stared in horror at the bruises on his throat.

"It's nothing," Joe assured them. "I can barely even feel it now."

Laura hugged him again, wordlessly as she was choking up, thinking of how close she had come to losing her son after all.

"It really is okay, Mom," Joe reassured her. "It's all over now. We're safe."

HBNDHBNDHB

Ever since Chet had arrived home, there had been a steady stream of conversation as he told his parents and Iola all about the island and the adventures that they had had there. There was too much to tell in a single evening, of course, but he made a big dent in it. He had intended to keep it as light as he could, only talking about some of the more humorous or fun things that had happened, but he got too wound up talking and told a lot more than he had planned. They listened to every word, his parents asking a lot of questions throughout. Iola also had questions, but she was so much quieter than normal that Chet was beginning to be concerned about her. He was dying to ask her what the matter was, but he didn't think she would appreciate that with their parents there.

It was almost midnight before the Mortons said good night to one another. Chet would have kept talking longer, but he was tired from all the excitement and traveling of the last few days, and his parents could see it. They insisted that everyone should go to bed.

Tired as he was, Chet kept talking to Iola on the way up the stairs. "You have no idea how great running water and refrigerators and electric lights and clocks and all those things you take for granted are until you have to do without them for months. You know, I think most people these days really have no idea how glad they are they didn't have to live before those things were invented. It might sound romantic to live back in the good ol' days, but I'm telling you, I'm glad to be back." When Iola didn't reply right away, Chet gave her a puzzled frown. "Are you glad I'm back, Sis?"

"Of course I am," Iola replied. "What makes you ask a ridiculous thing like that?"

"You just seem like something's on your mind," Chet said.

Iola glanced down at the step she was in the midst of taking. "I guess I do. The last few months have been a lot."

"Yeah. In a lot of ways, I almost think we had it better on the island than all of you had here." Chet paused and then added, "Nancy told us you thought we were alive the whole time."

"Did she also tell you how I drove everybody crazy about it?"

"Uh, she must have forgotten about that part."

"I wish I could," Iola replied.

"Aw, it couldn't have been that bad," Chet insisted. "Besides, you were right."

"About that, but the way I was acting about it wasn't right. Turns out that telling people who are mourning that they're wrong and selfish and don't care because they don't see things the way you do isn't a great way to win popularity contests."

Chet stared at her incredulously. "Why did you do that?"

"I don't know," Iola admitted, still not quite able to look him in the eye. "I could make a lot of excuses for myself, I guess, but it doesn't change that that's what I did. And you know the worst part about it? I'd convinced myself that I was so much better than everyone because I was the only one who cared, who wasn't thinking about myself, who was 'doing something.' But I was the total opposite of all those things. I didn't want to believe what everyone was saying because I didn't want to have to deal with what that would mean. I mean, I didn't want to face life without you and Joe and the others. I wasn't just not thinking about everybody else. I wasn't even thinking of you. I was just thinking of myself."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad," Chet objected. "Don't forget I know you better than all that, Sis."

"You knew me," Iola corrected him glumly. "Pitting yourself against everyone who cares about you changes a person."

"Disagreeing with someone isn't exactly pitting yourself against them."

Iola shook her head. "But thinking that they're all dragging their feet and not doing anything is. They weren't. Mr. Hardy and Mr. Radley and Nancy were working practically nonstop. They just didn't make a big deal about it. Unlike me, who had myself convinced I was the only one doing anything, when I was doing less than anyone."

"What about driving to Montana?"

Iola rolled her eyes. "Ugh. I guess we did do some good on that trip, but everyone else was completely willing to come. If driving across the country on half a lead and with barely a plan wasn't enough to convince me that everyone else was willing to do whatever it took to find out what had happened to you, then I was pretty hopeless. But that's not even the worst part. The worst part is that after spending all this time thinking I'm so much than everyone and if they would just do like me, then I…Did anyone tell you what happened to Callie?"

"Not exactly," Chet said. "But I'm sure it wasn't your fault."

Iola shook her head. "You weren't there. We had gotten kidnapped. I found a way to escape, and I had just climbed out, but before Callie could, the kidnappers came back and grabbed her. I…I left without her."

"It wouldn't have helped her if you hadn't."

"That's what everyone keeps saying, but she almost got killed then."

"You couldn't have stopped that, even if you'd been there."

Iola ran her hands through her hair. "I know, but…After giving everyone else such a hard time about not doing enough, and then…this…"

"I think I'm starting to piece all this together," Chet said. "You know what your problem is, Sis?"

"I think I've got more than just one problem."

"From the sound of it, you've been trying too hard to find somebody to blame for everything that happened, so you blame Mr. Hardy and Nancy for not investigating the way you would have or whatever. And then, when you realize that isn't fair, you blame yourself for whatever you can dig up. But seriously, you might as well blame all of us for being dumb enough to let ourselves get captured and then let those two sailors escape from us so we couldn't stay on their boat."

"It's not like you did any of that on purpose."

"Right. And it's not like anyone else made mistakes on purpose, either. Including you."

Iola smiled slightly. "Maybe you have a point."