Christmas is days away, but before Christmas there was Oliver's birthday. A day that Rilla always tried to make separate, to make sure they celebrated him and not just Christmas and him pushed together.

When he was younger she would creep into his room and watch him sleep wondering if he look older or not. He was already up when she made it downstairs, he looks at her for a moment when he hears her footsteps.

"Happy Birthday," Rilla says to him, pulling him down so she could kiss his cheek and hug him.

"Thank you," he says gruffly blushing.

"My first baby," Rilla whispers. "Such in a rush to come into the world, you gave us all a scare but you made it through and now you're sixteen."

"You tell me this every year," Olivers groans.

"Yes, well, be glad you don't have Rowena's story," Rilla reminds him that it could potentially be worse for embarrassing stories.

"Clara, you need to wear the glasses to get used to them," You could hear Ken plead with his youngest. He had raised a bit of hell at her school when it came to her teacher not informing them of her sight issues, which mean a trip to the eye doctor. For all of them not just Clara to ensure they could see well enough.

"Ollie doesn't wear them," She pouts.

"Ollie can see just fine without them," Ken says. "Now what do you say to Ollie?"

"Happy Birthday," she says grumpy still not wanting to wear her glasses as she sits at her seat pouting.

Ken sighs and looks at his son with a smile on his face.

"Happy Birthday, are you too old to hug your old man these days?" He asks with a grin and Oliver moves towards him and hugs his father gingerly. Ken squeezes him before letting him go, "We'll up to the government building of transportation and we can get you your license today after school?" He tells his son.

"Can I drive home?" Oliver asks hopefully.

"You can drive around the neighbourhood," Ken tells him with a look. "Last thing we need is an accident downtown. I'll pick you up after the third period, I just better not find you with any new bruises or hear about any more fights whether physical or verbal."

Oliver looks at him trying not to be shocked.

'What you think the school doesn't tell me things," Ken tells him.

"They start it," Oliver says gruffly.

"So don't let it bother you," Ken reminds him.

"I like your glasses Clare-bear," Ollie says to his sister trying to get the attention off of himself sitting down at the table. "No school again for you?"

"She's been out all week with a fever and cold, no point in sending her for one day," Rilla says handing out plates of food. "Don't worry I didn't even try cooking it," she tells her son who looks at it questionably.

"Roe! It's breakfast!" Ken calls out by the stairs before going towards the coffee pot looking at his wife who was still fussing about. While Rowena tended to make birthdays her special day, Oliver had long forgone the traditional breakfast and presents. Rilla still tried to entice him into something of a celebration.

Much to his word Ken was waiting at the gates when Oliver slinked out of the school boundaries in his heavy wool coat and toque on his head. His hands are shoved into his pockets, and when he opened the door to throw his bag, Ken said bruised knuckles.

"Really Oliver?"

"The piano lid fell onto my knuckles I didn't put it up fully."

"I highly doubt that," Ken says sarcastically. "Do I have to go in there, Ollie? I may have taught you not to fight Ollie, or to start fights. But this isn't…I can't sit here and watch you be subjected to this behaviour without saying something or waiting for the call when you finally hit them back."

"It's the truth, really," Oliver says shrugging. "Can we go?"

Ken sighs nodding his head and puts the car into gear and drives down to the licensing office.

"When you were in the war did you ever do something questionable?" Ollie asks out of the blue from the passenger side.

"What do you mean questionable?"

"I don't know, you don't talk about the war, Mom hates hearing about it, but you were in the first one. I saw your medal in Mom's jewellery box."

"Ollie, war is beyond comprehension and questionable, hell right and wrong make no sense to you in it," Ken tells him biting his tongue, a cigarette would be lovely right now.

"So you killed people?" Ollie asked quietly.

"It was a kill-or-be-killed situation Ollie… didn't have a choice which means you just didn't think of it. You just thought about keeping alive so you could go home one day, hoping that some girl of your dreams was waiting for you still."

"But one should fight though? For patriotism at the very least?" Ollie asks further.

"One should do as one thinks is right," Ken responds after a moment. "Is that your notion for after graduation?" He prepares himself for the worst answer he never thought he would have to hear.

"Mother would never allow it," Oliver tells him.

"Your mother will understand if you explain it to her," Ken says quietly. Leaving off the part where she would cry in their bedroom for days on end as he pulls into a parking spot in front of the government building. "But maybe leave that conversation for after the holidays?"

Ollie just nods his head and follows his Father into the building. It was a Friday afternoon so it was filled with more women than men, but then again so many men had already left. They take a number and wait until they were called.

He pulls out the old birth certificate that has Oliver grandfathers signature on it and proceeded to help Oliver get his license and paid for it.

'You'll have to pass the driving test for a full license, until then you may drive with a fully licensed adult until then," the lady told him. "Congratulations and happy birthday!"

"Thank you," Oliver says quietly, ears turning red. They head home afterwards, promising to give Ollie a lesson the next morning.

Rowena wasn't home yet, but Clara and Rilla were about the house.

"Can I ask you one more thing?" Oliver asks as he kicks off his boots.

"Of course," Ken says looking toward his son. "There are no foolish questions in this house you know that."

"Can you read something over for me?" Oliver asked shyly. "It's for creative writing, I just need some feedback on it."

"Of course, Oliver. What's it about?" Ken asks intrigued, Oliver didn't allow him to read much usually.

"It's about a mythical realm, it's different from The Hobbit, but it pulls in some different mythologies and mythical creatures. They end up in our realm looking like humans. They try to understand humanity and all the rules by which society runs." Oliver explained.

"Interesting concepts, go on," Ken says with an upturned smile on his face.

"Well, I guess they learn to make lives, deciding if they agree with the rules and regulations that humans tend to abide by. Some end up wondering if they should go back to their own home where they can be free. Only realizing each realm has its issues and problems and neither world is going to be perfect."

"Sounds like you have been thinking about things," Ken said sitting aside his ledger. "Just leave a copy on my desk. Do you have more than one copy?"

"I have my original," Oliver says with a nod to his head.

"Is this just writing or a school thing?" Ken asked him, flipping through the large stack. He

wondered when Oliver managed to type it up.

"It will be the final project of the school year," Oliver told him. "It's the lead into creative writing two. I just want to know what you think of it if it makes sense and maybe one day in spring we can take some photos to make a book cover for it?"

"Sounds like a plan," Ken said with a smile as he watched his son fidget already ready to leave the room out of embarrassment. "For what it's worth Oliver, we're always here for you." Ken reminded him. "Whenever you feel like need to talk about whatever is going on in your head."

"I know," Oliver said quietly walking up the stairs to change out of his school clothes and find his story to put on his father's desk.

"Ollie? Will you come to play with me?" Clara asked her brother from the doorway of her room."I need a prince for the princess," she explained.

Oliver sighed. "Fine," he said following her into her room and settling his long limbs on the small chairs. It must have looked utterly ridiculous to anyone who passed by, but he had a soft spot for his little sister.

"Well, you write me a story one day?" Clara asked him. "One that you can read to me at bedtime?"

"Won't you be too old for that?" Oliver asked her as he drank the pretend tea.

"Then I'll read it myself," Clara chirped. "Daddy makes the best stories, and you're always writing in your notebooks, so you must be good as well!" She told him. "Plus aren't you supposed to take over for Daddy one day at the magazine?"

"That's the grand dynastic plan," Oliver said rather sarcastically. He wasn't sure if he wanted to run a company. Grandpa managed to get out of it and wrote books about travel for most of his life. He later turned to nursery time stories in his later years. For his grandchildren at first, until his publisher looked them over and decided it might be a profitable expansion. Not that it would be forced on him, but Oliver knew that his father wanted to pass it down to him. The reality he thought Rowena would be a much better candidate for the magazine.

Clara frowned. "Don't you want to be a daddy one day? I want to be just like Mommy?"

"There's a bit more than imitating someone," Oliver tried to explain to her. "You'll understand when you are older," he told her.

"That's what everyone tells me," Clara frowned as she poured more imaginary tea for them. "If it's your birthday, shouldn't you be more happy about it?"

"I…" Oliver begins. "I am happy, it's just different when you're not a girl," he says as they were called for dinner.

Dinner was Chinese take-out, one of Oliver's favourites and a cake the Rilla promised to not try and make herself. Presents of new ties, cuff links and a new sweater, things more usual than festive themed that would most likely come in three days. Where Rowena had been filled with teenage whimsy and gossip, Oliver opted for a quiet night in, quiet as it could be once Monopoly was pulled out and hot chocolate was poured and games played.

The Toy drive was on Christmas Eve, followed by the staff party, but the toy drive was something Ken was most proud of. Watching his family all take part, of course, Rilla was mainly looking after Clara was known to run off, but Rowena who was dressed as an elf in striped stockings in Red and green, green skirted dress with a red belt. Her red hair was pulled into two pigtails with a jaunty little hat, mingling with the younger children, while Oliver retreated to the place he felt most comfortable, the piano playing every Christmas song he knew. Blushing whenever some girl came close to him.

Of course, Santa was there, giving out gifts and candy canes to anyone who had signed up for it. Less than last year, but still a great deal wasn't it a good thing if a family could afford a gift from Santa this year?

"Robert!" He hears his daughter exclaim, blushing at her costume most likely.

"Don't you make the most adorable elf," he comments with a grin. "Complete with freckles," he says leaning close to her ear.

"Rowena!" Ken calls out for her and she looks at him indignantly and pulls the boy further away from her parents.

"Please tell they are not…kissing," he says gruffly.

"Not that I know of dear," Rilla says patting his arm. "Though is it that big of a deal? If it was Ollie and a girl you would be rejoicing."

"I would not be," Ken tells her.

"Oh you would be though, you would be congratulating yourself on raising a perfect boy's boy," Rilla says quietly. "Even when he is the furthest thing from how you were at that age."

"You were ten when I was Ollie's age, you don't even know what I was like then," Ken gives her a look. "I just worry about him…he's so quiet and sensitive about things and doesn't talk, it's a miracle we even know he has an interest in girls."

"Ollie is perfectly normal, not every boy has to be a lady killer like his father before him. What scares you more? Is it the fact that Rowena is more like you than Ollie? Or is that she is the type of a girl you most likely bothered when you were seventeen?"

"I did not bother girls," Ken gives her a look. "They all lined up for me thank you very much." He says huskily in her eyes.

"Save it for later," Rilla gives him a look. "I did not line up for you either."

"He's holding her hand," Ken spies his eldest daughter.

"Okay, come on," Rilla pulls him away from them.

Eventually, Santa left to go back home to deliver more presents and they cleaned up some of the children's mess and made room for a table of food that was brought in. It was catered and had a flowing fountain of punch that children enjoyed watching.

Rilla helped her girls change in Ken's office into their party dresses before she wrestled them into her own, complete with her special occasion girdle that she needed with it. It was the first time she was wearing it. She was making rounds when she spotted Jimmy and Constance

He looked slightly out of breath when he showed up with Connie on his arm. Rilla raises an eyebrow at him. "We couldn't find parking and it's cold," he says correcting her.

"I wasn't saying anything, You look beautiful Constance," Rilla kissed both of their cheeks as she observed the young woman, golden hair with blue eyes that were sharp but doll-like at the same time. She was tall in her high highs and her features were something that Rilla could never place, strong in places but soft in others, but had a fine nose and small ears. While Jimmy was in his good suit and his blonde curls were greased back in a slight wave.

"Oh! Thank you," Connie says blushing, smoothing over the deep coral dress she had thrown on for the occasion. Your dress is divine," she says complimenting the dress that Rilla was wearing back.

"What did you get up to today?" She asked

"We mainly worked, my family went to see family down in London," Connie tells Rilla. Looking around the Christmas party with interest and nervousness.

"You aren't spending the night alone are you?" Rilla asks at the news of her family not being home.

"Sadly I am on call tomorrow much like Jimmy as we pay our dues," Connie says with a weak smile.

"Well you must come at least for dinner when you finish," Rilla tells her. "You can at least be around for games and food in the evening if I had known I would have invited you ages ago, but this one never said a word so I assumed you were with family."

Connie looks at Jimmy who mainly shrugs a shoulder telling her to do as she wishes.

"Thank you, that sounds lovely." She says.

"Don't worry about bringing anything, we have plenty and we don't drink in the house," Rilla tells her. "Now enjoy the party and have fun, enjoy the food and the punch," Rilla tells them both.

The entire party is mingling and various dancing, teenagers grouping as their parents are busy talking business or leads. When the younger children are sent home or in offices to sleep as they wait for their parents to go home. Of course, the older teens are trying their hand at sneak sips of sparkling wines and champagne that Ken had brought in for the occasion.

Oliver was busy trying to not be a stuttering fool in front of some girl who kept trying to touch his dark hair, while Rowena was giggling over something with a group of girls. Ken had never been more relieved that whatever boy she had been giggling about earlier was not a child to an Employee as more than once he had seen daring girls go up to unsuspecting boys and kiss them without any warning. He watched his son clam up as he sat on at the piano when a girl dared to sit next to him and touch his hand, only relaxing slightly when another boy his age sought refuge at the piano as well.

For a moment Ken watched his son and his demeanour change from awkward to slightly less until a larger group came over demanding more Both boys practically sprang apart from each other. Ken frowned to himself, shaking off the feeling that floated in him watching the moment before downing the rest of his drink.

It's late when they all come through the back door. Ken carrying Clara in his arms and the older ones still wake but slowly fade. He sends them to bed as he layers Clara down on the bed, peeling off her dress and shoes before covering her up with a blanket and putting Peter Rabbit near her. She sighs in her sleep and instantly reaches for him to cuddle.

He kisses her sweetly on the forehead and makes sure the older children are on their way to bed. Faces washed and teeth brushed before sliding into their beds.

"Cookies for Santa—for Clara of course," Rowena tells him half asleep.

"I'll make sure they are out," Ken chuckles and kisses the top of her hair before going downstairs.

Still dressed in their finery, the faintest blush over her cheeks from the cold and the smallest amount of champagne she drank for the occasion. She pulled out the presents from their hiding spots to show that Santa had come to the house. Placing them carefully, and fixing the tree whenever a bobble was dangling or ready to fall.

"Kids are asleep?" She asks him looking at the clock.

"I think so," he says as his hand trails down the open back of her gown.

"Mistletoe," she points upwards, turning towards him.

Ken chuckles and kisses her soundly. They learned long ago that any sort of Christmas fun was carefully planned. Especially with Clara who climbed into their bed most nights, even on Christmas and for the fact they would all be up early banging on their door.

"I need you," Rilla whispered pleadingly, which set his blood on fire. He kisses her once more, his jacket is already off, and her little fingers are already undoing the buttons of his shirt. His hands are on her waist moving upwards, feeling the softness of her body that the girdle didn't reach, he cupped her breast in his hands, flicking over the nipples to make her groan.

"You're going have to be quiet," He whispers cheeky.

"I can be quiet," Rilla gives him a look.

Ken chuckles deeply, and kisses her once more, distracting her as he finds the fastenings of her dress one by one until the straps come away and he can work his hands from the side to feel the soft skin and the stiff slightly bumpy feeling of her nipples after nursing three children.

She shimmies out of her dress, leaving her in her girdle and slip, that hid her garters. Before reaching for the button and fly of Ken's trousers and pushing them down. They settle into the large chair her knees on either side of his lap as he pulls her close, placing wet kisses down her neck and collar bone and breastbone, teasing slightly as his stubble scratches her slightly.

It's a silent nod of the head, it was fine, safe. Not wanting to have to make such a decision again that hurt her more deeply than he knew she let on.

It hurt them both, but a mother who was alive was better then a mother sick and slowly dying. They knew they had done right, but still, he watched her pray every Sunday for forgiveness for putting her health about the divine plan.

They hold each other for a moment, moving together, her hand covering her mouth to keep her cries from echoing until it dies away in the quiet of the night, cocooned in each others arms panting before she moves away from him, reaching for his shirt to put over her bare chest.

"Oh cookies," Ken says as he rights himself, helping himself to the Santa cookies as Rilla shakes her head. He watches her fix the tree and the final presents they had laid out.

"I love you," he says quietly standing up and embracing her, still smelling the scent of their lovemaking around them.

"I love you too," She responds as she takes his hand and they walk up the stairs to their room.

They wake up to laughter and children arguing if they could wake up their parents and Jimmy telling them to be patient.

"Merry Christmas, shall we allow them their reprieve?" Ken asks kissing her forehead.

"I suppose so, if not they are liable to break down this door," Rilla laughs and reaches for her robe to pull on her housecoat over her nightgown.

There is no news on the radio this morning, it plays carols, though every break made the adults jump slightly. Ken remembers the first war Christmas before his enlistment, and then the others where he had been in the trenches for. While Rilla remembers the fears of worries and rationing that surrounded her holidays. The children didn't though, as they ripped through the colour wrapping paper. Jimmy only stays long enough to say marry Christmas to everyone and open his gifts before he is off to work. Thanking Rilla and Ken for the new books and the watch that he needed, while the younger kids pooled together and got him a new tie bar. Clara had a new bisque doll that was almost life-size and came with a matching dress, Rowena gleamed over her portable turntable that had a variety of music for it. Something she had been asking for all year, Oliver got a new fancy typewriter he had been drooling over.

Of course, there were the usual little things, a few books, crayons and arts and crafts, paper dolls, sheet music and everyday clothing like new socks and underwear, new hats and mitts that had been knitted on all year.

For Ken, Rilla found a new watch with a leather band and a rather interesting face on it, while he had plunked down some cash and presented her with a new pearl necklace after her last one had broken on her.

Gloria and her daughter filtered in eventually, refilling the coffee pot for the adults and the adults exchanged small packages and cards. Forgoing church all together for the day, to be able to enjoy family at home.

It was afternoon and the turkey was placed in the oven by the women folk. Rilla helped where she could as she chatted with Gloria and her daughter who arrived the day before when the doorbell rang Shirley and Lillian came over with their children and shortly after Marianne and Carl who had an empty house this year had come over with Phoebe for a change. If they had any girls they usually made dinner at their own house, not wanting to leave anyone alone on Christmas. The children broke off into groups and scattered to play with their new toys and show off their gifts with their cousins.

Jimmy was home again with Connie at his side, slightly late and flushed but happier by dinner time. They settled for dinner at the long table in the formal dining room that was barely used.

"So any plans on joining this circus of a family?" Shirley asks Connie who looks at Jimmy in slight shock as they all sit on the couch later that night.

"When we feel ready," Connie says holding Jimmy's hand. "It's a lot to figure out, especially with the War now and my brother wishing to enlist and what it means for my own family."

"Of course," Shirley nodded his head before looking around the room as the children were not around. "I should have an interview with the forces in the new year. I figure with my building expertise I can be useful enough to them."