One Brick at a Time

by songbird1970

follows Fireworks, it's one surprise after another for the family Flynn, both good and bad.

On Brick at a Time A Cabin Tale Follows Fireworks

Good heavens. How did they always end up in such unbelievable situations? They'd been hunted down, shot at, hit. There had been accidents, incidents, and illnesses with catastrophic results, but this, this was certainly a first. Thirty years on the mean streets of LA, followed by an only slightly less eventful retirement on the shores of Big Bear Lake had found them constantly surprised at their ability to still be surprised- at the ugliness of some, the utter goodness of others, and the sheer contentment to be found in the simplest of things. This, however, was definitely new.

24 Hours Earlier

It was quiet, eerily so. They had the entire house to themselves. Not since those dark days following Sharon's accident, the weeks spent recovering, body and mind, here in the cabin, had they been alone here. Life on the lake was the fulfillment of a dream not even contemplated a handful of years ago. Their days were filled with laughter and light, a tapestry of generations under one roof, lives joined in the most harmonious of songs.

The family had grown by leaps and bounds. Their children were married, with children of their own, with lives that flourished and callings that satisfied. Rick and Holly had given them two little ones, Willa and James, and lived in Los Angeles. They made frequent trips to the lake and talked more and more of relocating there. Emily and Greg lived in nearby San Bernardino with their little Andrew. Nicole and her family lived only a short drive away and their children spent most weekends with their grandparents. Rusty and his family lived just up the road, and nephew Brian and his new bride, Lydi, had a home just off the back porch.

Their friends had joined them there, the Provenzas sharing their home, along with Sharon's mother, Maggie. The former Commander Anne McGinnis, now Mrs. Mark James, lived up the road on the other side, allowing them to enjoy a retirement close to their friends and their new daughter, Lydi.

Soon, soon Drew would marry his love, Melanie. The two made their home nearby as well, and worked in the area as medics. Their December wedding was only weeks away, when the family would gather near to celebrate the holiday.

It was a fulfilling existence, as noisy as it was quiet, as busy as relaxed. Currently, Sharon and Andy Flynn were enjoying the rarest of days- lazy and alone.

Emily and Mel and had taken Maggie into the city for a doctor's appointment followed by a visit to the beauty shop. Patrice usually did her hair, but was currently in Arizona visiting her own family. Her husband begrudgingly accompanied her.

Rusty, Lydi, and Brian were at Hope House, the Children's home associated with their church, and Drew was working. Anne and Mark were also enjoying a quiet home, but planned to join them for dinner.

Fall was in full swing and the air was cool and crisp. Curled together on the back porch swing, Sharon and Andy relished the fresh air, the sunlight off the water, and shared less than innocent kisses before a low-burning fire pit.

She shivered against him, chilled by more than the crisp fall air.

"I can't believe we have the entire house to ourselves," she said, smiling against his lips. "I don't remember the last time that happened."

His voice was low and gruff as he laughed in her ear.

"Has that ever happened? We went from having a teenager with us in the condo to a whole houseful here. Rusty to Provenza, not exactly a roommate upgrade," he chuckled.

"Well today, the only roommate you've got is me," she said, shifting from his side to his lap, her legs astride his. "So we'd better make the most of it."

Andy drove his fingers into the thick curtain her hair, silky auburn strands twisting around them as he covered her lips with his and drew from her hungry kisses and heavy sighs.

Her hands reached around him, pulling him firmly against her as their kisses grew deeper, more heated. Her fingers fisted at the soft grey sweatshirt he wore, her shoulders rolling toward him as if she were tucking herself against him.

Without warning, there was a sudden squeal, followed almost instantly by the sound of shattering glass, the rumble and scrape of colliding wood and metal. The entire house quaked with it.

The wall against which they reclined, tangled in each other's arms, shook against them.

"What the hell?" said Andy, holding her still against him should she fall.

"What on earth was that?" Sharon asked, her chest rising and falling in a quick rhythm.

Together, they set her off of his lap, Andy standing as well, and entered the house through the back door.

They made their way through the hall toward the great room, stopping in their tracks. There, where their front door should be, used to be, was a car.

The entryway, including the door and the large windows which lined the front of the cabin, had been reduced to rubble. There was glass and debris scattered across the floor, the furniture, the kitchen table. Smoke rose from the car and water sprouted from somewhere beneath the porch steps.

They were momentarily frozen, transfixed by the sight before them. A moment later, the spell was broken and their training kicked in. Springing from their positions on the opposite end of the the room, they covered the distance in mere seconds, climbing atop the car's hood to see to the driver.

Sharon drew her cell phone from her back pocket and quickly keyed in 9-1-1, reporting the accident and address to the dispatch operator. She then slid over the hood to the ground and tugged the driver's door open.

A man fell from his seat, landing against her, nearly toppling her under his weight.

Andy jumped from atop the hood and lifted the man off of his wife, dragged him across the lawn, and settled him on the grass. As they looked him over, they were joined by their friends, who had spotted them from the road.

"My God," said Anne. "What happened?"

She and Mark, out for an afternoon run, veered from the road to the lawn, never slowing at all. They met the other couple on the lawn and collapsed beside them.

"Guy drove right into the house!" said Andy, checking the driver for obvious injuries.

"He's breathing fine," said his wife. "He's got a nasty knot here on his head, from the dash maybe. Superficial cuts and scrapes."

"Paramedics should be here any minute," said Andy.

"I'll wait by the road," said Mark, eager to help, but knowing the professionals had the injured driver in hand.

Anne slipped her hands into the man's pockets until she found a wallet. Withdrawing it, she set it aside for the authorities just as the man began to stir.

"Wha, what's going on?" he stammered, his eyes darting back and forth. When he tried to sit up, he was stopped and gently pushed back down.

"Whoa," said Sharon. "Take it easy. You'e been in an accident and you need to lie still until you've been checked out. The paramedics are on their way. Let them look you over."

"I'm fine," he said, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Nothing's broken."

"I"m sure you're right, but until you're cleared by the medics, you need to lie still."

The man once again reclined and eyed the woman kneeling beside him. She had kind eyes even in the midst of a difficult situation. As his eyes passed over the lawn, he saw his car. He found it smashed through the front porch and wedged into the front of the home. Closing his eyes, he sighed. What the hell had he done?

Present

The driver had been taken to the hospital for a full work up. A police report had been taken, the insurance company called. Everything that could be in motion, was. A tow company had come and pulled the car out of the house, carting it away, and Andy had called the hardware store in the village to place an order. His son would be picking up the materials needed to temporarily wall up the front of the house. While the days were still quite pleasant, the evenings were steadily growing colder.

They had spent the day rearranging, moving furniture and belongings out of the great room and into other, more weatherproof areas of the house. Some things were left where they were and merely covered. More vulnerable items such as Sharon's piano and her father's clock were tucked into other rooms for the time being. Andy had scheduled a consult with a contractor to see what they could expect the damages to be and the time necessary for repairs.

By day's end, they were all exhausted. Sharon and Anne took over dinner preparations and soon they were camped around the coffee table enjoying the hearty stew set before them. Maggie sat nearby, a tray across her lap, enjoying their banter, impressed with the lightness they were able to maintain.

"So Patrice said they'll be headed back in the morning," said Sharon. "I thought after dinner I'd get the suite in back made up for them. We won't know until we meet with the contractor how much will be needed, but I can't imagine they'll want to stay in the front room while there's a crew hammering on the walls. Assuming, of course, that we don't have to wait for a crew to be available."

"We'll do what we can to get the repairs underway soon," said her husband. "We'll have everybody here for Christmas and the wedding. We can't have them traipsing through the side gate to get to the backyard. We'll see about upgrading the windows like you wanted while we're at it."

Sharon had expressed an interest in replacing their windows, original to the oldest part of the cabin. They had been there when they bought the place and had served them well through a number of seasons. After some research, she had decided that they might just need to be the next upgrade they made to their home. The summers were quite warm, but the winters could range from mild to extreme. More energy-efficient options were available and with windows making up most of the front of the house as a whole, they should also be attractive. First, of course, they would need to address the lack of front to their house, in general.

"Mom, are you sure you'll be warm enough in your room? I'm not sure how tight the seal is on the plywood up front."

"I'm perfectly fine, Sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere. I'll lay on an extra log and an extra quilt. I won't freeze."

Sharon and her husband exchanged a look. Of course Maggie would not be moved. Her room was her room. It was where she communed with her memories, with Will. Their space.

"You heard her, babe," Andy said with a wink. Leaning in close he added, "I'll lay on extra wood in her room. No worries."

That, he did. He then joined his wife as she prepared to shower before bed. Grabbing what he needed from the bureau, he padded across their room to find her in the ensuite.

She leaned heavily against the vanity, head hung low, her full weight sagging forward on her hands. Steam from the shower filled the room, causing her hair to cling to her face and bare shoulders.

"Sweetheart? You alright?"

He watched as she stilled, then stood taller, meeting his gaze in the fogging mirror.

"I am, yes," she nodded.

He approached her slowly, dropping his clothes onto the lid of the toilet and slipping his hands onto her hips. Perching his chin on her shoulder, he turned and placed a kiss against her neck.

"You sure?"

Nodding, she covered his hands with her own and leaned back against his chest, relishing the feel of his skin against her own.

"Yes. I'm tired, and not a little frustrated. I want to get past the meeting with the contractor so we know exactly what we're dealing with. It's all damned inconvenient, but I'm so grateful no one was here when it happened. The children, Andy. They sit at that table by the window when they're here, doing their puzzles and coloring in their little books. They could have been having lunch at the table. That car could have come in a few feet over. So yes," she said, turning within the circle of his embrace. "I'm okay."

Drawing her closer, he tucked her snugly against him, sharing the same warmth, they same relief.

"Yeah."

He drew her to the shower, stepped inside, and pulled her in with him. There within the confines of water and warmth, of silence and solitude, they found their sanctuary. There, they left it all behind and loved the world away.

Sunday greeted them with all of the promise of the Sabbath. The morning was cool and fresh, the sunlight burning off most of the chill. The front room was cool, the fire in the hearth doing its best to combat the newly ventilated room. There was coffee, though, and it did a lot to warm them through.

They enjoyed their breakfast, then set lunch on to warm through so that it would be ready upon their return from church. After dressing and checking on Maggie, they made their way out the back door and down into the village.

Again, they found themselves uncharacteristically alone. Maggie stayed in more and more, her grandson having set up a computer allowing her to watch Mass from home. Cold mornings were difficult for her. Provenza and Patrice weren't regular attendees, though Patrice had found a small church in town she very much enjoyed. Brian and Lydi typically attended the church where her adoptive father, Mark, led services. Brian occasionally assisted him.

They found they very much enjoyed the hour spent alone in the small sanctuary of St. Cecelia's. Sharon sat, fully immersed in the sacred ritual of worship. Andy, having recently returned to the faith, enjoyed watching the peace come over his wife every bit as much as he appreciated the peace itself.

Theirs had been a difficult path, a challenging career. Those challenges had not disappeared simply because they had upped and retired, moving away from the city. They had suffered one obstacle after another. This faith, however, the faith that held his wife so securely in its sway, and to which he now clung as well, had seen them through. Whether it was illness and injury, or merely the inconvenience of their latest annoyance, it gave them something to cling to, something stronger than the storm, stronger than themselves.

Andy found he felt much more settled after an hour spent turning his thoughts away from himself. There was a lesson there, he thought. It wasn't all about him. Most of what befell them, he couldn't fix on his own anyway. It was a good reminder. There was someone bigger, more capable.

They returned to the house renewed, refreshed, ready to face the next step to fixing the house and all of the hullabaloo it would entail. First, however, lunch with their family.

The smell of vegetable soup and Johnny cake welcomed them to the table, which had been relocated to the center of the great room, well away from the chilled length of boarded up wall.

"Hey there," said his partner. "Have a seat. Patrice made a gingerbread to go with lunch. I aim to eat it while it's still warm."

They joined Louie and Patrice, Brian and Lydi, Mark and Anne, and Maggie at the the table and filled the bowls with steaming hot soup. Then Provenza filled them in on their visit to the grandkids and Lydi and Brian shared with them plans to actually enjoy a rare day off.

"Hope House is covered," said Brian, still out to convince his wife. "There's a team there today, lunch and dinner are taken care of, and you need a nap. You're running yourself completely ragged, Lydi. You're exhausted."

She did look wiped out. After a fire had damaged a portion of the children's home over the summer, the repairs were made in relatively short order. There was a constant moving of children in and out while work was done. There were two new intakes, and all the paperwork that entailed. Plus, they had helped Drew and Mel settle into their new place down the road. It had been a busy time, but not a bad one.

"You're right. I am tired. A nap does sound good," she said, allowing her head to drop momentarily into her hand. She tucked her hair behind her ear then looked up at her young husband. "Thank you for looking out for me. We'll eat then go rest. You're coming, right?"

Brian laid his hand atop her knee beneath the table, giving it a gentle squeeze in answer.

Lunch was easy and conversation flowed around the table. Sharing their lives was simple. Life may sometimes be complicated. The sharing was what made it worth it.

Brian and Lydi excused themselves for the aforementioned nap. Andy and Mark rose to clear the table, allowing the ladies to continue catching up. They were tossing around ideas for the front of the house, extending the porch, new additions to the flower beds, enlarging the kitchen area. There had to be some upshot to all of this, he had said.

A knock sounded at the back door, something none of them were accustomed to hearing. Mark turned and backtracked toward the rear of the house with an I've got it. He arrived at the door just as his girl and her husband did. Laughing, they pulled it open together.

"Uh, hi. I'm looking for the lady of the house," said the stranger.

Lydi stumbled and found herself cradled against her husband's chest, his arms securely holding her.

"You okay, Lydi?" he asked softly in her ear.

Her mouth opened, lips moving as if to form words that would not come.

"Lydia?" asked the man, obviously confused.

She covered Brian's hands with her own, squeezing them tight as she took a deep breath.

"Dad."

Sharon rose and made her way to the back door where the others seemed to have disappeared. She found a collection a stunned, dumbstruck individuals, all of whom had, apparently, forgotten how to speak.

"Hello," she said, a cautious smile on her face. She recognized the man from the accident, having been up close to him as he lay on her lawn. Looking at the others, she noted their varying degrees of shock. "Won't you come in, Mr…."

The man looked away from Lydia, finding the woman who had taken such good care of him.

"Torres," he muttered. Then, stronger, "Javi Torres."

"Excuse me, please," said Lydi, as she quickly made her exit. "I'll be right back."

Brian followed close behind her, leaving Mark behind to watch them go.

Sharon led the man through the back hall into the great room where he was greeted by their friends.

"Andy, honey, you remember the gentleman from the accident," she said. Gesturing toward the group, she added, "and these are our friends. Excuse the mess," she said as he took in the damaged room. "Anne, you'll find Mark out back. Why don't you both go check on Lydi. She was looking awfully tired."

She hoped her friend could read between the lines. Something was up and she wasn't sure what it was. Both Lydi and Mark looked rather shellshocked. She didn't know quite what to make of it, but knew both would need Anne.

Anne studied her friend, then the stranger in their midst. The dark silky hair, the large brown eyes. Somehow, she knew. Dread twisted in her gut. Whatever he was doing here, no matter his intention, he would hurt her daughter. He already had. She swallowed hard, nodded, and rose to cross the room.

"Please have a seat, Mr. Torres. We're just finishing dinner. Can I offer you anything to drink? There's hot coffee."

"I've got it," said her husband, calling from the kitchen.

Maggie gracefully rose and padded toward the kitchen to assist him. She wanted to remain nearby should her family need her, but felt the need to distance herself just a bit.

"I wanted to come by and apologize for all the trouble," the man began. "And to thank you for being so kind even though I'd just crashed into your house."

Louie and Patrice exchanged a look. Ah. That told them who the man was, at least in part. The reason for the new picture window out front, the man behind their relocation to the guest suite at the rear of the house.

"Well, I'm certainly glad to see you looking better than the other day, Mr. Torres," said Sharon. "I trust the good folks at the Medical Center took care of you."

"Very much so, yes, ma'am. Everyone has been great. I wanted to tell you that they got my meds all straightened out. Apparently I was on my way to a diabetic coma when I went off the road and hit your house. Also, my insurance may take a while, but I'd be happy to help out with the repairs while everything's being sorted out."

Andy rejoined them, a tray in hand. Setting it down on the coffee table, he handed first his wife, then the others, a cup.

Sharon held the cup close, inhaling the sweet aroma of chamomile and smiled. While he'd brought the others decaf, he'd prepared for her a cup of tea.

"What brings you to town, Mr. Torres?" asked Patrice. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"San Ysidro, originally," he smiled. "But I travel quite a lot for work. San Diego, most recently."

"And what is it that you do?" asked Provenza, his antenna on alert.

"Well, this and that," said the man. "Delivery, mostly."

Louie studied the interloper. Something about him had him on edge and looking around, he wasn't the only one.

"Lydi, what's going on?" asked Brian. "Is that man your father?"

He watched as his wife paced back and forth, her hands twisting and clinching anxiously as she blinked at the tears that wouldn't go away.

Lydi turned to face him, finding Mark beside him. Just then, a soft knock sounded, and Anne slipped into the room. Lydia took them in. This family she had created, the one who had chosen her when he had chosen to leave.

"My biological father, yes," she said tearfully, shaking her head. "What he's doing here, I've no idea. I haven't seen him in so long. Why is he here and what does he want?"

She sat heavily on the couch and reached for the pillow at the end, hugging it close.

"I sound like such a terrible person. I'm glad to know he's okay. I really am, but… why now? And how? How does he take off years ago, doing drugs and alcohol and who knows what else, then he turns up here? Where I now live with my new family? In a home of my own with my husband? How does that even happen?"

"You are not a terrible person," said Anne, sitting beside her. "You sound exhausted and understandably confused by a situation that has come out of nowhere. Now, none of us know why he's here. It can't simply be a coincidence that he crashed his car into the Flynn's place yesterday and, lo and behold, his daughter happens to live here. It doesn't work like that."

"Lydi," said Mark, approaching her and sitting on her other side, "Whatever you want to do, however you want to handle this, that's what we'll do. You want us to talk to him on your behalf? We can do that. Send him away and tell him to come back another day? Or not at all? We can do that too. It's your call, baby."

He looked over her shoulders at his wife, whose eyes reflected the tempest he felt brewing in his own. He nodded toward the door and stood again, offering her his hand.

"We'll give you a moment." To Brian he added, "You let us know what she wants and we'll take care of it."

As they reached the door, she called to them.

"Mark?"

He turned, and his wife with him.

"Yeah, baby?"

Lydi smiled through her tears.

"You're my Dad," she assured him. "You guys are my parents now."

"Yeah," said Mark, holding fast to his wife's shaking hand. "You bet we are, Baby."

They slipped from the house and turned toward the main cabin, pausing in the yard to hold one another close, each trying to quell the storm within the other.

Left alone in their home, lovingly built just for them as a gift upon the occasion of their wedding only six months ago, they held each other's eyes.

Brian went to her, knelt before her, and stroked her legs gently, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Tell me what you need, sweet Lydi. Whatever you need, I'll do."

She extended her hand and cupped his cheek, smiling when he reached up to grab a hold of it and bring it to his lips.

"This," she said, voice tight and filled with emotion. "Just this."

Mr. Torres' casual demeanor shifted with the return of Mark and Anne. He swallowed hard when the other man entered the room. He had been there when his little girl recognized him. Quickly, he stood, hoping to improve the situation.

"Javi Torres," he said, offering his hand.

Mark pulled up short, taken aback at the gesture. He didn't want to take his hand. He didn't want him intruding on their lives. Taking a deep breath, he remembered who he was and who he was supposed to be. Accepting his hand, he introduced himself and his wife.

"Mark James, Mr. Torres. This is my wife, Anne."

"Do you live here as well?" he asked them.

"They live nearby," came Lydi's voice.

All eyes turned toward the young pair at the back of the room.

She slowly approached them, Brian's steady hand at the small of her back.

"Mark and Anne have a place not far from here," she said, keeping her responses intentionally vague. Joining them, she stepped between them. "Mark and Anne adopted me a few years ago. These are our family and friends," she said, "and this is my husband, Brian. Everyone, this is Javier Torres, my father."

They made smalltalk for all of half an hour before it was decided that, perhaps, another time might be best. Everyone was thrown by the events of the past couple of days, a car crashing through the front of the house being somewhat stressful all around. Louie and Patrice had just driven back into town and still had the unenviable task of transferring all of their belongings to the other end of the home. They were tired. They were confused, somewhat suspicious. Lydi looked like she was genuinely in shock. It was an unsettling situation all around.

Leaving them with his cell phone number, Mr. Torres took his leave of them. The rest of them stood in silence, their eyes each searching the others' for answers no one had.

Andy stepped toward the window on the northern wall of the room. From there he could see the man retrace his steps from the backyard, along the side of the house, onto the front lawn, then onto the road out front. On foot. Where on earth was he staying?

"If you all will excuse us," said Brian, "I think we're going to go lay down for a while."

He draped an arm across Lydi's shoulders and led her toward the back door. She was looking rather brittle around the edges and the quiet solitude of their own home was calling.

Anne and Mark watched them go, torn between following and allowing her husband to handle it. It was a hard thing, watching her struggle. They hadn't had her long at all, having come to them at fiftteen. Lydi had largely raised herself, growing up very quickly too. She was grown, their girl, newly married to her best friend. Brian was a good young man, and a wise one.

"Let's go home," Mark told his wife, his hands on her shoulders. "We could use a nap too. We'll check on her later. She knows where we are."

Anne reached up to cover his hands and nodded in agreement.

"Join us for supper," said Sharon. "We'll make something special to tempt Lydi."

"She likes my veggie lasagna," said Andy. "I'll make that. We'll get some good food in her. Brain will get her to rest a little. We'll find out what this guy is doing in town to begin with."

They shared a look before scattering for the afternoon and the house grew quiet. If only their minds could do likewise.

Lydi went through the motions of undressing, hanging her dress back in the closet and placing her shoes back on the rack which hung on the door. Running her fingers through her long, dark hair, she reached for the white t-shirt Brian had just removed. It was still warm, having been worn between his skin and his dress shirt that morning. Drawing it over her head, she let it fall to just below her hips, then lowered herself to sit at the foot of the bed.

Brian found her there when he emerged from the bathroom, clad in gym shorts and an old LAPD T-shirt of his uncle's. He paused upon seeing her, looking so forlorn, yet so breathtaking. Any other time, he would have taken advantage of an afternoon alone and rid her of his undershirt in short order. She was all legs and hair and he could easily lose himself in her for hours. They may have waited for one another, but from that first tentative touch, they were goners. Neither were any match for the pull the other had over them. They were perfectly matched.

Looking at her now, his heart ached. She looked hurt, and angry, and disappointed, not only in her father but in herself. He found it all pretty confusing himself.

He crossed the small distance between them before kneeling at her feet. Covering her hands, he rubbed his thumbs over the center of her palms and looked up into her eyes, tired and weary from more than just the previous hours. He said not a word, instead waiting for her to speak if she chose.

"I haven't seen him in more than a decade," she began, her voice surprisingly flat. "After we lost my mom, he tried. He really did. He was just as lost as I was, just as sad. We had no help. He started staying out later and later, leaving me at school or with the neighbor. One day, he just didn't come home. For weeks, I didn't know where he was. Eventually I ended up in the system. Some good places, some not so good. I saw him a little over the first couple of years, then not anymore. His rights were eventually terminated. It's good to see him, and not so good at the same time. I mean, he seems to have it together, but he couldn't get it together when I needed him to, you know? And yet, I ended up in the best of all possible places."

The tears finally came and when they did, they seemed endless. Lydi rocked forward and he was there to catch her. She slid right into his arms, then onto his lap there on the floor.

Brian simply held her, cried with her. It was a first for them. Their first six months had been a dream. Not without challenge, but just about perfect on a personal level. There had been no shortage of laughter, passion, discovery, and love shared. Now, there were tears. As he cradled her, there on the floor at the foot of their bed, rocking her like a child, he ran his fingers through long, soft strands. Kissing her brow, he prayed for her peace of mind, for clarity, and for rest. He hadn't changed his mind about that. She had been going non-stop lately and it was taking its toll. She was rail-thin and her color off. This latest development wasn't going to help matters either.

He felt it when she began to settle. The crying subsided, giving way to sniffles. Her body began to grow heavy and slack. Brian smiled, suspecting she had fallen asleep. Thank You, he sighed, then carefully gathered her close as he stood.

Making his way around the bed, he settled her atop the covers and smiled when she curled against the pillows without waking. Rounding the bed again, he laid beside her and drew Maggie's quilt up from the end of the bed to cover them both. When she rolled toward him, tucking herself against him, he sighed in contentment. Now, perhaps they could both find some peace.

"You go ahead and jump in the shower and I'll get all this," said Drew. "Won't take me but a minute. May even join you," he added with a wink. "Well you'd better hurry then. You Dad wants us there by five," said Melanie, watching him over the hood of the car. "You sure you don't want any help?"

"This, I've got. Go on. I'm right behind you, one of my favorite places, I might add," he chuckled.

"Uh huh. You think you're so funny. Okay, I'm going. Don't throw your back out or you won't be doing much laughing at all."

She shoved her sunglasses up into her hair and grabbed her purse as she made her way up the walkway leading to the door off of the kitchen. No one ever used the front door. Friends and family came through the kitchen or the back porch.

Dropping her purse on the counter, she toed out of her boots and nudged them under the small table by the back door. She had a shower on her mind, or rather, a shared shower. Having worked nights for the last week, only just getting off at eight that morning, she'd taken a short nap before joining her fiancé for a trip to he market. She would have liked to sleep longer, but looked forward to the day spent with Drew, including dinner with his, now her family. The fact that her future father in law had called and let them know that Lydi could use their support meant the night might be a bit more involved. Family was important, friends too. Family who were also their closest friends were something truly special. That was Brian and Lydi.

Drew hadn't seen his younger cousin in years, but had always felt a special affinity to him, despite being quite different. Reuniting now that Brian had made his home in California, settling on the lake with Lydi, the foursome were practically inseparable. It delighted both Andy and his sister, Brian's grandmother.

They needed to be there by five, which should allow them time for a little reconnecting of their own, Melanie thought with a smile.

Drew was determined to get each and every bag in one trip. His woman awaited. He may be biased, but he didn't think so. She was extraordinary. An avid athlete and college triathlon, she was in even better shaped than he. The thought of her in the shower spurred him on, made him rush. Once he dropped the first bag, the others quickly followed.

"Aw, hell."

He stood, arms akimbo, and huffed, blowing the fringe of dark hair from his eyes. Thankfully, nothing was broken. Oranges were scattered, rolling down the driveway. The flowers he'd picked up for his stepmother lay in an undignified heap on the lawn. Dropping to a squat, he began picking up his mess, shoving the items into torn bags, calculating how many trips it would take and how long his lady would wait for him before abandoning the shower completely.

"Hello there. You look like you could use a hand," he heard.

Looking up, Drew found an older man, one he didn't recognize from the area, walking up the drive, a baguette and a pair of oranges in hand. Reaching up to accept the escaped groceries, he offered him a smile in thanks.

"Thanks, friend. I appreciate it. I'm afraid my mind was elsewhere."

"Understood," said the stranger, who bent over and continued to help pick up the wayward items.

Together, they managed to get everything back into a handful of sacks and set them on the bed cover of the truck.

Drew offered the man his hand.

"Thanks again, friend. I'm Drew. Not from around here, are you?"

"A pleasure, Drew. Name's Javi. I'm housesitting for friends in the area. Just for a few weeks."

"Ah yeah," said Drew, thinking of the house on the eastern side of the lake. "The Pattons, yes. I knew they were looking for someone at the end of the summer. I asked around at work. No one was available. I'm glad they found someone. Nice place."

The man let go of his breath and smiled.

"Yes. Yes, it is. Very nice." He gestured toward the grocery bags. "Need help with those?"

"Nah, thanks. I've got it from here. Plus, I've got plans tonight, so I'm in a bit a of a time crunch. But listen, thanks. I appreciate the help. Hope to see you around. Enjoy the area while you're here. It's a terrific place."

"I'm enjoying it so far," he said. "You take care and," he smiled, "Hold on to those groceries."

He chuckled as he turned to go.

Drew watched him walk away as he gathered up his things and made his way inside. He put the cold things away and left the rest. He had a date with a shower goddess. Everything else could wait.

"Hey, Dad?" he called from the back door. "Sharon, we're here."

"Come on in, honey. In the kitchen. Watch your step. It's a bit of mess, I'm afraid."

Sharon stepped from the kitchen, peeking around the bar, greeting them with a smile.

"Man, you weren't kidding. This is unbelievable. I can't believe someone actually drove their car into the house," said Drew. "I thought this only happened on tv."

"You're so lucky no one was hurt," added Melanie. "No one was home? This place is usually packed with people."

"Andy and I were on the back porch," said Sharon, meeting them in the great room. "We felt the impact. The whole place shook."

"Scared the hell out of us," said Andy, entering the room. "Hey, son."

Andy clapped his boy on the back and planted a kiss of Melanie's cheek.

"Hey, Mel. You've been on nights. Have you had any rest?"

Drew kissed his stepmother's cheek and handed her the bouquet of Dahlias and Snapdragons.

"For you table."

"Thank you, honey. A welcome burst of color among the rubble," she chuckled, placing them in the center of the temporarily relocated table, now situated nearer the center of the room.

Maggie had draped it in a cloth the color of fall pumpkins. Candles the color of marigolds dotted the surface. It was lovely. A welcome burst of color indeed.

Shortly, they were joined by the others- the Provenzas, Mark and Anne, and soon enough, Brian and Lydi.

The pair entered, looking somewhat more rested and met them around the table. Lydi went straight into the arms of her parents.

Patrice helped Sharon and Andy to get supper on the table, then as one, they all took their seats. Mark gave thanks for family and food, both of which kept them nourished, and they tucked in.

"Oh, my favorite," said Lydi, wearing a tired, but welcome smile.

"I thought you might like it," said Andy. "It's been a while. I had everything on hand."

"Well, thank you," she said. "It looks terrific," she added, running her fingers across her forehead.

Brian watched her. She had rested well, not moving at all once she was asleep. She still looked tired. Her eyes gave her away.

"Head still bothering you?" he asked, covering her hand and giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. They were cold to the touch.

"A little," she admitted. "Not as bad. That nap just made me eager for more sleep," she chuckled. "Maybe we'll make an early night of it?"

"Your hand is freezing," he said, letting it go long enough to slip his jacket off and place it over her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," said Sharon. "With the wall gone, I'm afraid it's hard to keep up with the cold in here."

"I'll lay on another log," said Andy. "It is a little chilly in here. I'm surprised you aren't cold," he told his ever-chilled wife.

"I'm layered up," she winked, pulling back the cuff of her sweater to reveal the shirt beneath.

Andy saw to the fire, adding an armful of wood and tending the fire until it grew. When he returned to the table, his wife passed him a plate, piled high with steaming lasagna, crisp green salad, and thick, crusty garlic bread. He thanked her with a kiss.

"Thank you. It is a little nippy in here," she whispered.

"You're welcome. It's just a good thing we all have a warm place to sleep. The nights are getting colder," he said, tucking into his meal.

"Any idea how long it'll take to fix all this up?" asked his son. "I'm happy to help in my free time, if that doesn't cause a problem with insurance or a crew or anything. A lot of this we could handle ourselves."

"Speak for yourself, young Flynn," said Provenza, not eager to engage in manual labor.

"Drew worked construction in high school and college. He knows what he's doing," said Sharon. "And Andy's very good with his hands. We'll see what the contractor says, and the insurance adjustor. It may well be that we decide to hire out some of the more complicated parts and take care of the rest ourselves. We'll just have to wait and see."

"Plus, if we decide to make any improvements or upgrades while we're at it, insurance won't cover those costs," said Andy. "Hopefully we'll meet with the adjustor in the next few days. We called right away and they promised to send someone out as soon as possible."

When his phone rang, he excused himself and stepped away from the table, pulling his cell from his pocket.

The meal continued, along with the conversation. Patrice entertained them with tales of the antics of her grandchildren, who seemed to enjoy torturing their Grandpa Louie almost as much as Andy did.

Melanie caught them up on the latest in wedding arrangements. The bridesmaids' dresses had been chosen, as had the flowers. Everyone was terribly excited to host another wedding there on the lake. The only pall on the plans seemed to be the question of whether or not Drew's mother would be attending. By tacit agreement, it was not brought up over dinner.

Also left unaddressed was Lydi's predicament. This unexpected appearance by her biological father had thrown them all. An air of uncertainty existed among them. She was pale. Her usual glowing bronze skin was dull. Her eyes had lost their sparkle. They had all hoped that with the completion of the repairs to Hope House, following the fire of the past summer, she and Rusty would both be able to take some much needed time off to recuperate. They had a veritable army of volunteers. The children were well in hand. School was in session, meaning they were well cared for during the daytime hours anyway. It was a good time to scale back, by a few hours at least. This new stressor would not be helpful. The sooner they found out why he was here, the better.

Even now, with her favorite meal before her, she'd even very little. Instead, she was more interested in the ice from her glass of tea.

They all pretended not to notice. All except for Patrice.

After dinner was cleared away and dessert served- Maggie's chocolate cake, Patrice slipped away momentarily. When she returned, she placed in front of Lydi a Mason jar with a straw.

"I noticed you passed on Maggie's cake. I was hoping you would try this instead. My own recipe. I need someone to test it out for me."

Lydi looked at the concoction, then at Patrice. Anything the woman made couldn't be bad. She was a tremendous cook. Lydi also suspected she was simply trying to get her to eat a little more than she had.

"It's just a smoothie. Strawberries and bananas. Nothing wild. Tasty, but very healthy. Rich in vitamins, specifically iron. Please?" Leaning in closer, she added, "If not for me, then how about for Brian? For your folks? They're awfully worried about you, sweetheart."

Lydi took a deep breath, then leaned in to meet her, kissing her cheek.

She was right. It was tasty. It also made her family smile.

Later, the house began to settle. Anne and Mark followed Lydi and Brian to their home out back. They had things to discuss before heading to their own place. Drew and Mel left hand in hand to make the short walk to their house down the road. They had plans to pick up where they'd left off earlier in the afternoon.

Maggie bid them all goodnight and made her way to bed. Provenza and Patrice followed shortly after to settle into their new, temporary quarters.

Andy made his nightly sweep of this cabin, checking the locks and the alarm. Arriving in the large room he shared with his wife, he found her turning down the bed. The space was warm and inviting, the fire burning low in greeting. Worries and frustrations over their damaged house faded away upon seeing her. She was his home.

He closed the door and crossed the room to slip up behind her. When he wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her back against his chest, they sighed in unison. Apparently, she felt the same. They stood there together, allowing the day to fall away, leaving only them.

"Hi," she husked, face tucked close against his neck. "All locked up?"

"Hi yourself," came his reply as he turned her, keeping her against him. "Locked up tight."

"Join me?" she asked, looking up into his eyes. "I was just getting ready for bed."

"Happy to, but I'm a little too keyed up to sleep just yet. I'm afraid I'll just keep you up."

She stretched up on tiptoe, pressing her lips against his in a kiss that seared. When she stepped back, both were breathless.

"Good."

The insurance adjustor arrived first thing Monday morning. An inspection was made and a ridiculous amount of paperwork, according to Andy, was filled and filed. Thanks to their friend Sheriff Goddard, a contractor met with them that afternoon. The man was a friend and, upon some research, shown to have a solid reputation in the industry.

He looked over the work that needed to be done. They discussed some ideas they had for upgrades to the property, improvements that could be made at the same time. The man took some pictures and made some notes, promising to make some preliminary sketches to share with them by week's end.

With that much out of the way, and nothing more they could do repair-wise, Sharon and Andy packed a picnic supper, grabbed a blanket, and headed along the path toward the top of the hill.

Less than half an hour later, they made it to the top. Andy spread their blanket across the grass while his wife unpacked their supper. Perched atop the blanket, they enjoyed a simple dinner of sandwiches in wax paper and leftover soup eaten straight from thermoses. There was tea and Maggie's chocolate cake as well. It felt like a feast. They finished just as the sun began to set.

They packed their trash and settled in to watch the show. Light played on the horizon, reaching between in the peaks and valleys of the mountains, painting their faces in a rosy gold light. Turning where they sat, Sharon curled against his chest, they watched as the play of light colored the lake, their cozy cabin, like an oil painting.

They watched as the day closed their on their Rose of Sharon. Maggie swept the back porch. Brian and Lydi stood together on the path that ran alongside their house, sharing kisses that reminded them both of the early days of their romance. Somewhere inside, Provenza was likely puttering about, grumbling about nothing much while his long-suffering wife patiently rolled her eyes.

All around them, their little enclave was bidding the day farewell. From their spot on the hill, they had a bird's eye view. Mr. Jeffries, who lived on the far side of the lake, was walking his dog. Rather, his dog was walking him. They could make out Anne's blonde ponytail. She would be taking out the trash this time of night.

Out across the street from their own house, there was a man simply standing there. He appeared to be smoking a cigarette. That wasn't right. Who was standing by the side of the road watching their house?

"Andy," she said, lifting her hand and pointing out over the cabin. "In the street near the mailbox."

He followed her her gaze, the gesture of her hand. There, in front of their house, near the end of their driveway, someone stood. Waiting? Watching? Who was it and what were they doing?

Andy grabbed his phone and quickly keyed off a text to his partner. He then repositioned his wife as if to take her picture with the house behind her, making sure to include the stranger in the distance. It was much too far away to identify anyone, but he still wanted to document his presence. Finally, he grabbed their belongs while Sharon hastily folded the blanket and the pair made their way down the trail in the fading light.

Arriving at the cabin, they were met by Provenza who, having received the text, had managed to get a better photo of their visitor from the side window. It was their Mr. Torres. He also said that the man had left on his own, which was small comfort.

"Perhaps he's just thinking about all he's lost," said Sharon. "Seeing Lydi probably shook him just as much as it did her. I've seen the look on his face before."

Jack, thought her husband. That made sense. Even when you had no one to blame but yourself, it stung. Especially when you were to blame. He knew that lesson well.

"I can well imagine. Just the same, I think I'll message Brian. Remind him to lock up tight."

"Good idea. Can't be too careful."

She locked up the back door behind them, and set the alarm. After popping in to bid her mother goodnight, she made her way to her own room. Andy followed behind her a moment later.

"Kids are tucked in for the night. All locked up. Told Brian I'd explain in the morning. He told me Mel invited Lydi to join her for brunch in the morning, since she's finally off of nights," he said, pulling his sweater over his head, leaving his silver hair standing on end. "I think it was her way of encouraging her to sleep in a little. Go in late tomorrow. I'll have to thank her."

A smiling Sharon reached up and smoothed his hair back into place before sitting on the blanket chest at the foot of their bed. Removing her boots, she sighed in relief.

"Bless her. Poor Lydi's looking rather fragile these days. If I didn't know better, I'd suspect she's pregnant. Anne tells me they're being careful not to rush it though. They're using protection. They're still so young, just getting started."

From his place near the dresser, Andy turned and looked at her, brows cocked.

"Sometimes it just happens, despite your best efforts, you know."

"Oh, I know. Emily, for example."

She sat, massaging her socked feet.

"I really don't think that's it, though. Neither does Patrice. She's thinks she may be anemic. She plans to talk with her tomorrow, get her to make an appointment with her doctor."

Sharon stood and made her way to the ensuite to brush her teeth and wash her face.

"Is that bad?" asked her husband, following her as he tripped over the pajama pants he was still pulling up.

"Well, it's not particularly good, but it's treatable. It's not terribly uncommon. I was anemic after I delivered both kids. There are different causes, as well as different effects. If that's what it is and it hasn't gone too far, they can treat it. She could also just be worn out. Or pregnant," she chuckled around her toothbrush.

"Well, that sounds better than the other," he mumbled. "I mean yeah, they're really young, but I've never seen two kids with better heads on their shoulders. They'd be fine. We're here. Anne and Mark are just up the road. They'd have a great support system."

Sharon watched him in the mirror. There was a mixture of concern and confidence on his face as he worked himself into a state. He considered Brian his responsibility and Lydi, by extension. When they had invited his sister's grandson to stay and live with them, it was, of course, implied that they would look after him. Brian wasn't a child, never had been really. He was an old soul. While very young, not yet twenty-three, he was thoughtful and mature, as was Lydi. Both had grown up quickly, driven by circumstances to reach far and fast to become the person to be counted upon, having lost too many others.

Sharon finished at the sink and turned to face her husband. Arms akimbo and head tilted, she smiled. He was such a dear to worry as he did.

"Honey, come here," she beckoned. "Come on."

Andy raised his eyes, found hers, and the frantic beating of his heart instantly settled into something more like a flutter. Into her arms he went, allowing her to gather him close.

"I don't think she's expecting, not yet, Papa. I think she's exhausted herself trying to be successful at work and at home. She's a new wife, and a good one. But she's also trying to be a good administrator, a good caregiver to two dozen children, and then come home and have dinner on the table every night. She takes each role very seriously and something's going to have to give. They're going to have to learn to balance things, and they will. They're smart and they love each other too much to leave one another hanging. We can help, and we will, but they have to find their way."

"You're right. Nic and Jeff went through it. Nic was trying to be the perfect mom to his boys, right off the bat."

"It's not unusual. I think Rick and Holly had an easier time. After that nightmare in the woods, they were forced to rest and heal. They also have the advantage of Ricky's job. He can work from anywhere and has. They were older than the kids, too, just as Em and Greg and Mel and Drew. They found their way. Rusty and Ben as well. Lydi and Brian will too. All your little birds have successfully flown, Andy. Job well done."

"Nah," he said, nuzzling her neck. "Pretty sure that was all you. Even the parts that are mine are only any good at all because of you, babe. You can argue until the cows come home, but its the truth. My truth, anyway."

Snuggled in bed a short time later, Sharon spooned snugly against his chest, she thought about what he'd said. She considered the Sharon Effect. That's what Nicole had called it for some years now. Sharon had never cared for the phrase, thinking it did a disservice to all the work Andy had put into rebuilding himself, the struggle to get and stay sober, to repair the relationship with his children, to become the man she loved beyond description. The parts that are mine are only any good at all because of you. Her husband was no poet, his foul-mouthed limericks aside, and often struggled to put into words the deeper sentiments of his heart. Every so often, however, tonight for example, he got it right. Perfect. All the good and the bad were worth it because of him, that intense furnace of a man wrapped around her like the cloak of protection he always aimed to be. She'd often bristled at that, the protection. She didn't need protecting. Hadn't she made that clear on several occasions? She had come to discover, though, that protecting those he loved was Andy Flynn's love language. That, and food. He filled them, nourished them, guarded and protected them, like a father should. Fitting, she thought with a smile, as her body became heavy and she dosed off, safe and protected by that love.

Having talked long into the night, Brian had hoped his wife would sleep in. She was, as his father would say, burning the candle at both ends. While she had slept, and quite soundly at that, he found her awake, her wheels already spinning.

When he returned from a quick trip to the bathroom, he slipped back beneath the covers and curled an arm around her, smiling when he felt her hand slide across his. She was awake already. That wasn't good. That meant she couldn't sleep, her mind likely picking up where it had left off the night before.

"Can't sleep?" he asked, gliding his fingertips along her arm, hoping to soothe her. "Want to talk about it?"

Lydi shook her head. No, she definitely did not want to talk about it anymore.

"I don't even want to think about it, but I can't seem to stop. I know what I'm going to do, not that necessarily want to, but because I think I should. I just want to put it out of my mind for a minute. You know?"

Brian rolled onto his side, propping himself on an elbow and resting his head in his hand. He laid his free hand on her stomach, his fingers slipping beneath the white T shirt she wore. Her stomach, lean and flat, warm beneath his palm, quivered at his touch. Brian folded himself over her and replaced his hand with his lips, causing her to shiver again. While it wasn't his intent at all, it certainly seemed to shift her thoughts off of the situation with her biological dad.

His head pillowed there on her belly, he looked up and found her eyes, tired still, but filled with warmth and need. Brian kissed his way up, his fingers slowly pushing the T shirt upward at the same time. By the time he reached her face, he slid his hands through the shirt's neck hole, over her head, and then tossed it aside. Returning his hands to her, he framed her face and silently asked her consent to continue. She silently answered.

There, in their quiet sanctuary, they rid her mind of the images that plagued her, replacing them with tender touches, kisses that filled her with warmth and pleasure, and promises that she wouldn't walk alone. Twice before the dawn, he brought her to a place where her mind knew only love and delight.

The following week was a good one, offering answers to many of their questions and giving them a solid direction in which to go.

The insurance was cooperating, their pay out guaranteed. After meeting with not one, but three contracting firms, they still elected to go with the sheriff's friend. He listened, seemed to share their vision for the remodel, didn't attempt to talk them into more. On the contrary, he showed them a number of ways to achieve the same general look and quality while cutting costs. They liked his creativity, and he liked their ideas. It seemed a good team.

Lydi agreed to make an appointment with her doctor. She admitted to a few minor dizzy spells over the past couple of weeks and decided she could sacrifice an hour while the children were in school to get a physical. Patrice also took it upon herself to increase her volunteer hours at Hope House in order to take a little off of the young woman's plate.

Sharon and Andy, Maggie as well, began preparing meals which were left in the younger couple's kitchen, hot and ready, so that supper wasn't an issue after a day at work. Anne and Mark helped too, inviting them over or cooking for them during the week. It wasn't that they couldn't manage on their own. They had for the last six months. It was simply that, for the moment, Lydi was quite obviously under the weather. They would help where they were able.

On Friday morning, Lydi stepped out onto the porch of the house on the water. It was a beautiful day, bright and cold. It looked to be a good weekend for the outing Brian had planned. Whatever it was, she was told only that he would pick her up at the coffee shop at nine. That was good. Thinking about how he had sprung that on her, she grinned. He was awfully thoughtful. It should prove a good balance to the morning she had planned.

"So, you're sure you're comfortable with taking a long weekend? I mean, I'm thrilled. I just don't want you to take the time off then spend the whole weekend worrying about what's going on back at work."

Lydi stood and leaned across the small dinner table tucked into the corner of the kitchen, pecking his lips.

"I'm sure. Next week is the Fall Festival. It'll be busy. This is the perfect time. There's a crew coming in on Saturday to collect donations for the festival. Plus, the weekend respite team is one of the best. So, I'll see the doctor at seven thirty, meet Javi eight fifteen, then come back here do, whatever. I'll be a lady of leisure, I promise."

He didn't fail to notice the tension with which she mentioned her father's name. They had talked about it at length, and prayed about it. Lydi had decided to meet with the man, figuring she owed him that much. What he wanted after all the years that had passed was a mystery. The answers wouldn't come if she didn't even speak to him. Her faith taught her forgiveness. She was struggling, but she tried to remember that she was nothing without her own second chances.

"Well, how about I drop you off and pick you up? Then, I have a surprise for you. As it turns out, I also have a few days off and I intend to get your mind off of everything."

She beamed at him across the table.

"I do like the way you distract me."

Her husband stepped out behind her, pulling the door closed behind me.

"Ready?" he asked, meaning more than just if she was ready to leave. He felt her breathe deeply, then let it go before nodding.

"As I'm going to be."

Lydi's appointment took little more than half an hour. There was bloodwork, urine collected. A nurse listened to her heart and lungs, the works. It was a small office, there on the village square. Luckily, it gave her just enough time, to walk across the green space to the coffee shop where her father was waiting.

She stepped inside, removing her coat and draping it over her arm. He was easy to spot. It wasn't a large place. She found him nursing a cup of coffee at a table along the front window. Taking a deep breath, she stepped up to the counter and ordered a cup of tea before joining him at the table.

"Morning," she said, voice somewhat flat. She didn't mean to sound curt, but was doing her best to control her emotions.

"Hey, darlin," he said. "Have a seat."

She bristled at the use of the darlin. He used to call her that all the time. It no longer felt right, as if he'd forfeited the right.

Lydi took the seat across from him, enjoying the warm of the sunshine through the window, offering a soft Thank you when she was presented with her cup of tea. She studied the man across the table. He was older, certainly. A decade or more would do that, as would the life he'd led. Excessive alcohol could be unkind. He was here, though. Dressed well, he was clean and appeared sober.

"How have you been?" she asked. "I mean, are you well? You did crash your car into a house a few days ago."

"I wasn't drunk," he assured her. "I know that's what you're thinking. Diabetes. My sugar was off. I passed out is all. I'm not drinking, darlin."

He sat back and took a good look at her.

"You're all grown up. Married? How in the world did that happen?" he chuckled.

"Well, it has been a while, Javi. A lot has happened. Four foster homes, three group homes. I was adopted at sixteen. Finished college and got married last May. How about you?"

It was his turn to stiffen. She was angry. He got that. He'd done his best, though. Hadn't he?

"You turned out okay. There was no way I could have raised you all by myself. Men aren't cut out for that, darlin."

Lydi felt her face warm. Heat curled in her stomach. Her fingers gripped at the sleeves of her sweater.

"They aren't? Mark, that's the man who adopted me a few years ago. He lost his wife a long time ago, leaving him with a little girl, Holly. She became my sister. He raised her by himself, became both mother and father to her. She's a nurse now, and a mother herself. She's terrific, made me feel welcome from the start. Men are meant for exactly that, Javi. You weren't. I'm not sure why you're here, why you're interested after all this time. You look good. Sober. I'm glad. Maybe you want to reconnect. Maybe you have regrets about how things went. Okay. I do too. I'm not saying it's out of the question, but it's not going to happen over one coffee date."

Through the window, she saw her husband pull up and park along the curb. Right on time, as usual.

"I've got to go. Are you sticking around or just passing through?" she asked him, not sure which answer she would prefer.

"I uh, I'm housesitting for friends. I'll be around." He dug his hand into his shirt pocket and withdrew and slip of paper. "My number's there. Call me. Anytime. I'll answer."

Lydi looked at the card, at the calloused hand that held it. Then, she let go of a breath she unknowingly held, and accepted it.

"Sure," she said. "Look, my husband is here and we have plans. I've got to run. You take care, Javi."

With that, she grabbed her jacket and purse, and was gone.

They didn't talk about the visit as they drove away. She promised to fill him in later, but asked that he let it go long enough for her to process it herself. She wanted to tuck it away and enjoy the rare time away with him. Since their honeymoon week away, they had thrown themselves into their work at Hope House. Running a children's home didn't allow for much time off. Parenting, even as surrogates, wasn't a part time job. Time together, away from their children, was precious. Working together, sharing a mission, was a great joy. It was part of why they were in no hurry to start a family of their own. They were barely in their twenties. There really was no rush.

The drive didn't take them very far, as their destination was less than an hour away. Brian said he preferred to spend their time someplace than in the car.

He pulled off of the main road, onto a path of gravel which wound its way up a slope upon which rested a small redwood cabin. It rose up from the crest of the hill, pointing toward the sky like a steeple, tall and narrow.

"Oh Brian," Lydi exclaimed. "Where did you find this place?"

Her eyes danced in a way Brian had missed lately. Even in their most intimate of moments, they'd held exhaustion. Now, they sparkled.

"Sheriff Goddard," he said plainly, as if it made perfect sense. "He said he wanted to do something after the fire this summer. Said he was moved by our work their with the kids and how hard we all worked to get them taken care of while the repairs were done. He has this place and another one on Baldwin. He offered us one and Rusty and Ben the other. He said he was grateful to have the family in the community. Also said he'd offer one to Uncle Andy and Aunt Sharon, but the already have the best cabin on this end of California," he chuckled.

"How thoughtful," she said, opening the passenger door before he'd even fully stopped.

The house was small, like a trapping cabin, with rich dark wood and tall smokey windows. A chimney rose up one side and steps led up to a narrow front entry. A porch wrapped around the structure on three sides and boasted a pair of rocking chairs. It was all very homey and inviting.

"Well, go on," he said, laughing at her eagerness. "I'll get the bags."

Eyes merry, she made her way up the steps and opened the door.

A fire burned low in the hearth, taking the chill away instantly. It was as small inside as it had appeared from out front. There was a small table nestled into the corner and a kitchen the size of a closet in back. A loveseat was situated before the fireplace and a single door, a bathroom she presumed, on the remaining wall. A ladder ascended to a loft above, very much like a treehouse. She was delighted.

Brian followed her inside, two small duffles, a grocery sack, and a cooler weighing him down.

"Oh!" cried Lydi, quickly reaching to take something off of his hands. "I had no idea you brought so much. Let me help."

She tugged the cooler toward the tiny kitchenette, then took the bag of groceries and set it atop the makeshift counter.

Brian set the pair of duffles at the foot of the ladder and slid up behind her, slipping his arms securely around her waist.

"So I take it you approve?"

He place a kiss to the curve of her neck and held her close, relishing the warmth and acceptance he always felt with her.

Lydi spun in his arms and wrapped her own around his neck, drawing him closer still. She pressed her lips firmly against his and hummed into the kiss. Before she could draw away, Brian deepened the kiss, drawing yet another hum from his wife, this one saying more than Thank you.

The same day, the contractor's crew arrived to begin the first phase of home repair-clean up. The car had, of course, been pulled free the afternoon of the collision. The contractor, Milton, had his crew remove the plywood put up by Andy and Mark. They then got to work on the front room. Sharon and Andy had already removed the debris from the accident, sweeping it free and clearing away broken furnishings. The crew did a deep clean of the entire area, the great room and kitchen, while Milton went back over the walls and foundation. Fortunately, they were solid. That would certainly keep their work moving in the right direction.

Bent over the large table, now moved once again, they went over the blueprints drawn up by Milton, based on the rough sketches made by Sharon. They planned to extend and enclose part of the porch as well as do a little interior work to the front portion of the house, a little holiday facelift. The finish work, they would handle themselves, cutting the costs substantially, and helping to meet their deadline of Christmas and their son's wedding.

Their goal was to have all repairs complete, as well as a surprise upgrade to the Provenzas' suite, in time to welcome their family and friends to Drew and Melanie's wedding. Assuming that his mother, Sandra, and her husband would be making the trip, they could take the suite in the rear, usually used by Nicole and her family. Nicole and Jeff now had a vacation home in the area, though they often stayed there at the cabin for family occasions. They may also choose to give her mother their vacation spot and stay with her father and his wife. They were comfortable there, as were their children. The space had been created for them. It would all be a moot point if Sandra chose not to come.

Andy's former wife and her husband had taken an around the world cruise the year before, a second honeymoon funded by a small, by not insubstantial inheritance from his parents. Then, in a surprise to all, especially their children, they had decided to stay. They had an agent close up their home in California, auction off certain items, ship others, and simply stayed. Sandra said she felt like the character in her favorite novel, a women who falls in love with a villa in Tuscany, buys it, remodels it, and makes a new life free of all her old worries and inconveniences. Sadly, her children now felt like those included them.

Whatever her choice, Sharon and Andy would do all in the power to make them know they were loved. As usual.

"Come on, Pokey. I thought you said you ran track in school," she teased. "Now you can't even keep up? I always thought thirty was very kind to you, Flynn!"

"Nah," he said, sailing up alongside her. "I just like the view from back there."

The laughed as he fell in beside her, matching her stride for stride. They made their nightly loop of the portion of the lake that was the jewel of their little enclave. The houses there backed up to the water, making evenings in the backyard a treat, year round. Across from the houses rose the tall pines of the San Bernardino National Forest. Everywhere one looked, the view was stunning, proving that Big Bear was the gem of the area.

Their evening run took them about half an hour to cover the three miles around the lake. It was their favorite, well, second favorite way to wind down at the end of the day when they worked the same shift. When necessary, it became a daytime run. Their jobs were very physical, running, lifting, carrying, all important parts of their work. They had to be nimble and fleet of foot. Staying fit was vital.

Drew slowed his pace and extended his arm to slow hers as well, pointing to a house set far off the road.

"What is it?" she asked, slowing her breathing as she raised her water bottle.

"That's the guy I met the other day, the one who helped me pick up the groceries. Said he was housesitting for the Pattons."

Drew watched the man leave by a side door under a carport, a load thrown over his shoulder, and make his way to the car parked in the nearby garage.

Melanie stood beside him, stretching her longs limbs and sipping from the bottle as he watched intently the goings on across the street.

The man returned to the house, only to reappear with a large box, which also went into the car. It looked like he was moving out.

"I thought he was sticking around for a while. Jim Patton said they would be gone until after Thanksgiving. Looks like he's moving out already."

"Hope not," said Melanie. "'Cause that's Lina Patton's car," she said, passing him the water.

"Huh."

Eventually they resumed their run. The light was quickly fading and the temperature was dropping. Maybe the man was acting on a request from the owners, doing some cleaning. Who knows? It wasn't really their business. They had other plans on the agenda for the evening. His favorite, favorite way to end a long day. Regular exercise was awfully important, after all.

Lydi fell back onto the mattress, her chest rising and falling as she failed to slow her breathing. Her long, dark hair was matted to her face, a fine veil of sweat covering her skin.

"Happy?" asked her husband, equally sated.

He always asked her that, Lydi thought with a smile, as if her answer might have changed.

"Oh yes," she panted. "Remarkably so. You?"

She turned her gaze on her husband, the rest of her still flat against the bed. He was watching her, his smile her answer. He was always looking at her, Lydi thought, blushing. She wasn't used to being the focus of attention. Growing up in foster care, she'd made a study of remaining invisible. It was safer. When Mark and Anne starting spending time with her, they lavished her with attention and time. Brian had done the same from the beginning. They made her feel like precious treasure. It was a feeling she was unaccustomed to, but enjoyed. Brian told her she was supposed to enjoy it, that everyone deserved to feel accepted and cherished. He promised her the day he proposed that he would spend his lifetime making up for all the years she went without knowing that feeling. He hadn't let her down yet.

"Feel like a walk before supper? It's only," he paused to look over at the clock at her bedside, "just five thirty. You'll have to put clothes on. I mean, I wouldn't be offended if you went out just like that, but what would the neighbors think?" he teased.

Lydi rolled her eyes playfully.

"The neighbors would think I'm an awfully lucky gal," she replied with a wink. Then, she rose from the bed and reached for the shirt he'd abandoned for the nap they didn't take. They'd had the best of intentions, but had once again gotten distracted.

Brian checked his watch. They had time to walk down to the water and be back by six. He could have dinner ready in half an hour. They dressed warmly and left the little cabin on the mountaintop only a few minutes later. Outside, they were greeted with a cotton candy sky. It glowed pink and gold, its beams shooting across the sky, reaching toward them like greedy hands. God's fingers, the nephews called them.

"Extraordinary," she sighed, humming at the feel of her husband's arms embracing her from behind. "This is such a beautiful spot, Brian. So close to home, but a world away."

"Good. That's what I was going for, sweet Lydi, a place where everything else just melted away. You've needed a break for weeks now," he said, gathering her closer.

Lydi covered his hands with her own, and leaned into his embrace.

"I know. I'm not feeling my best and I know I need to slow down or I'll be no good to anyone, least of all you."

"Hey," he said, turning her to face him. "That's not what I'm saying. It's not about me at all. I just want you happy and well. Now, what did the doctor say?"

She couldn't avoid his eyes and he deserved an honest answer.

"The nurse did a full workup. Bloodwork, heart and lungs. Kicked all the tires as Mark would say. She'll have the doctor review everything and she'll give me a call Monday morning. She suspects the same thing Patrice mentioned. I'm probably a little anemic. So, you'll need to save up to feed me steak," she winked. "She gave me some vitamins to help and suggested some foods to increase my iron. Anything else, we'll address when the doctor calls."

"Okay then. Thank you for going and getting checked out. I know you really didn't want to."

"No, I didn't. But I told you I would, so I did. I feel better already, just being here with you. You were right. A little vacation works wonders. So thank you for this, again."

"Baby, if this is all it takes to make you happy and well, it's the easiest thing in the world."

He released his hold on her waist and raised his hands to her face, cradling it like treasure. He pressed a kiss to her lips, which quickly deepened. Arms reached and gathered, hearts increased their rhythms as they were swept away yet again.

Then Lydi shrunk away, her hands dropping from around his neck to fist at the front of his shirt. She pressed her forehead against his chest, mumbling incoherently.

"Lydi, you alright?" he asked, suddenly alarmed. One moment she was as carried away as he, the next she was practically hanging onto him to remain upright.

"I," she attempted. "I can't," she panted.

Brian wrapped an arm low about her waist, holding her tightly against him. The other grasped her hand where it clutched at his shirt. It was icy cold and shaking.

"Lydi, let's get you back inside. You're getting cold."

He turned them toward the cabin and, in an instant, Lydi dropped like a stone.

San Bernardino rested at the foothills of the eastern San Bernardino valley, boasting both mountain and valley, as well as a wealth of underground aquifers. Home to the acclaimed Fox Theatre, historic Fiscalini Field, and fierce annual wildfires, the area offered something for artists and sports enthusiasts alike. It was also, at more than twenty thousand square miles, the largest county in America.

There was nothing that couldn't be found there, including everything needed for a winter wedding. That was exactly what Melanie and Drew had counted on when they made their way into the city on Saturday. She'd had a bridal fitting and he'd needed to pick up his suit. His groomsmen had chosen and been fitted for theirs and would take care of retrieving them when the time came. They could be counted on to get it done. The bridesmaids had more specific tailoring needs before their dresses would be ready. Flowers had been selected and ordered. Patrice was taking care of the cake, Drew's parents, the meal.

Today, they had visited a design store. They would be married under a wooden arch that Andy had originally built for Rick and Holly's wedding, and subsequently used for others. They looked for and chose fabric to drape about the arbor, as well as other items for decorating the lawn for the ceremony and the meal to follow.

They weren't kids just starting out. A pair of thirty year olds, both were educated, established, and frugal, and they insisted on paying for their own wedding. Having recently relocated to the Big Bear area to be closer to Drew's family, they had fallen in love with a whole new California. Drew had grown up in LA, Melanie in Phoenix. The lake made for a decidedly different, peaceful experience, which was a welcome balance to their careers as emergency medics. Being near his parents, customizing the rental they'd been offered, made them feel instantly at home.

With their errands complete and an evening free, they set their sights, and their stomachs, on a roadside cafe near Silverwood Lake. They were considering the area for a honeymoon destination and had found the little whole in the wall on a weekend campout late in the summer. They offered some of the freshest fish in the area.

As they got situated in Drew's truck, his phone rang. Pushing the phone icon on the steering wheel, he answered without having to hold the cell.

"'Lo," he said, fastening his seatbelt.

"Drew, it's Brian."

His cousin sounded strained.

"Hey, buddy, what's up? You okay?" he asked, exchanging a concerned look with Melanie.

"Been better. Listen. Lydi isn't feeling well. She got all shaky. Had trouble catching her breath. Then she just passed out. Came out of nowhere. We're at a clinic on Highway Twelve, just between San Bernardino and Jenks Lake. I can't get a hold of her folks, but I can't use the phone and stay with her at the same time. Can you try and reach them, please?"

"Absolutely," he said, nodding at Mel's silent Let's go. "We're in San Bernardino now. We'll call them on the way. We'll meet you there. How is she now?"

Brian sighed, grateful and relieved.

"She's awake and talking. Cold and shivering. They've got a couple of blankets on her. Heart rate is elevated, although she says its slower than it was. She described it as galloping like a horse before she fainted. They've ordered some tests and done some bloodwork, all of which she just had done at the doctor's office yesterday."

"Okay, good. Listen, what's the name of the clinic?" he asked as Melanie opened the navigation app on her phone.

"Uh, San Bernardino Emergency Medicine, East Campus. Highway Twelve. Big red sign out front. Not much else here. Pretty new. I called 9-1-1 and dispatch sent me here. Said it was small, but well-appointed. Anything they can't handle, they transport."

"Okay, good. That sounds right. Alright, we'll be there as soon as we can. Between the two of us, we can help translate the medical mumbo jumbo. We're on the road now and Mel's already trying to reach Mark and Anne. We'll call Dad and Sharon too. Just breathe, pal. She'll be okay."

"Yeah, thanks. See you soon."

Drew ended the call and pointed his truck toward the highway out of town.

"She didn't look well when we were there for dinner the other night," he said.

"She hasn't felt well for weeks now. Pushing herself too hard. I warned her she would hit a wall and it looks like she has. I just hope its something rest and good food will fix."

"She's not pregnant, is she?" he asked with a suspicious smile.

"Shouldn't be. Patrice gives her a shot every three months to prevent it. Don't share that. I mean, it's not like it's a secret, but it's their personal business. I think she's likely a little anemic. Her eyes looked funny the other day, like the whites were almost blue. That, plus the fatigue, shortness of breath, dizzy spells, headaches.."

"Dizzy spells? You didn't tell me that."

"Relax. It just hasn't come up. Like I said, it's her personal business. She understands that whatever she tells me I tell you, unless she specifically asks me to keep a confidence. She just doesn't like the attention. It's only happened a couple of times, that she's mentioned, at least. Let's just see what they say at the clinic and hope it's easily treated."

"Yeah, okay. Why don't you try calling her folks again. I'll focus on finding this place."

"Deal."

Javier Torres sat at a large dining room table of rich walnut. The surface was covered with items liberated from closets, drawers, and safes throughout the house. Finding the place had been a stroke of good luck, as had running into the young man on the opposite side of the water. Discovering that the Pattons were away for the foreseeable future got him to poking around. He was good at that. Drew had been correct. They had been unsuccessful in finding a house sitter. Had it been summertime, their luck might have been better. Fall, however, meant back to school, jobs, life in the city. A security firm was engaged instead. He quickly learned their routine. Cameras and twice-daily drive-by's. That was nothing for a pro like him. Bypassing the cameras and working around a predictable scheduled security check? Piece of cake.

Not only did he have a place to stay, but a car to get around town when needed. He stayed on foot for the most part, not drawing attention to himself anymore than necessary. Just a visitor from out of town, looking after the home of friends who were out of the country for a while.

Then, there was Lydi, the real reason for his arrival in Big Bear. He studied her photo on the table, a full-color front page spread of the Big Bear Gazette. Former Fosters Shaking up the System, read the headline. Just below was a picture of his daughter and another young man, not her husband, now that he'd met him. This guy was named Beck. The writer of the article was Brian Walsh. His daughter had introduced her husband as Brian. Husband. Geez. Wasn't that a kick a head. She'd gone and grown up. Quite nicely, too. The article stated that she helped run a children's home, Hope House, with that fellow, Beck. Both were former wards of the state looking to give something better to other children in need of a home and family. She'd just graduated and married the dashing young Mr. Walsh, and moved into a grand new lake-front home he'd very much like to investigate. She'd told him most of that over coffee, but he'd already known. He'd read it in the paper after spotting her familiar smile gazing back at him from a San Bernardino news stand. He couldn't believe his luck. That little brown-eyed beauty who looked for all the world like she'd be washed away by her own tears the day he left her, now all grown up and, by all accounts, wildly successful. Now, to convince her to share her good fortune with him. Yes, she'd done fine without him, although she seemed rather bitter about it. It might take some time to soften that heart enough for her to give him what he needed. Problem was, he didn't have that much time.

"Did he say how long she was down?"

Andy's grip was tight on the steering wheel. His fingers had gone white with the tension.

"I don't think so, no," said Sharon. "Drew said he just told him it came out of nowhere. She's awake and alert now, though. She's in a safe place, with doctors and nurse taking care of her."

He nodded, and chewed at his lip. He adored those kids. They were his kids as much as her parents or his. That was the thing about their family, the patchwork of his, hers, and theirs. This family they had created included more than just the children they had born. They had chosen this family, these people, this life together.

"Anne and Mark are on their way," he stated, as if to convince himself all bases had been covered.

Sharon reached across the console between them and took his free hand. He was a worrier, her man.

"They are. They were in the village, having a night out. They may even be there already. Drew and Mel are."

That was true. Sharon and Andy had been working in the yard all afternoon and had just gotten out of the shower when Drew called. It had taken them only minutes to dress and leave.

"Louie and Patrice are staying home with Mom. We'll call them and update them when we know more. Rusty is holding down the fort at the center. Everyone who needs to know, does. Hopefully, she just needs a lot of rest and some home cooked meals."

He nodded and squeezed her hand, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Lydia Walsh. She came in less than an hour ago with her husband. Twenty-one years old. Long dark hair, big brown eyes. Passed out. We know she's here. San Bernardino Emergency Medicine, East Campus. That's what we were told. It's not that big a place."

Anne was a little frustrated. She didn't have much experience dealing with medical staff as a parent. It had been years since she'd done it. They'd only had only Lydi a few years and she'd come nearly grown.

"And you are?" asked the nurse, again.

The place was relatively small. There weren't that many people in the waiting area either. Drew and Mel were waiting for them when they arrived. Only a handful of others were there. There was no reason the woman needed their names repeated. Both Anne and Mark had seen their fair shares of crowded, frantic emergency rooms. This wasn't one of them.

"Mark and Anne James, the parents," he said, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder.

"Fine. James. Like you said, she's twenty-one, ma'am."

Anne shook her head and stepped away from the admission desk, drawing her phone from her pocket.

"I can tell you yes, she is here. She is being seen to currently, and I'm sure someone will let you know when you can see her."

Mark sighed, dropping his head. Turning from the counter, he followed his wife who was waiting by the set of doors separating them from their daughter.

A moment later, they opened and Brian stepped out.

"Hey, come on back. She wants to see you so you'll know she's okay," he said with a smile. "The nurse said it's okay. We're just waiting on results. She looks better," he assured them.

They followed him down the hall to a triage room across from the nurse's desk.

Brian opened the door to a small room with a bed and a chair. There was a counter running the length of the opposite wall, and cabinets full of the usual items found in a modern treatment room.

Lydi was resting on the thin mattress, an iv in her arm. She was still in the clothes she'd arrived in, minus her pullover sweater. Her eyes were closed and the lights had been dimmed so that she might rest.

"Oh, Lydi," Anne sighed upon seeing her. It was enough.

Her eyes opened and she smiled in welcome, flipping her hand over in invitation.

"Hi," she said. "I'm sorry you had to rush over. I'm fine."

Anne looked at her girl. She didn't look fine. She looked worn. Her skin and hair, usually glowing, were dull and lifeless. Her eyes had taken on an odd color, the whites not quite white. The hand she held was cold, the nails warped. Lydi never polished them, but always kept them neat and filed. They were very pretty hands, small, with long, slender fingers and pale, fair nail beds against her bronzed skin.

"It's not fine," said Anne. "My girl's in a hospital," she said, perching her hip on the edge of the mattress. "Brian said you passed out."

Lydi nodded, giving Anne's hand a weak squeeze.

"You'll have to ask him. I couldn't tell you. One minute he was kissing me, the next… He literally took my breath away," she chuckled.

Brian dropped his head at her comment. Any other time, he'd have laughed. He simply didn't find any humor in his wife lying there with an iv in her arm.

Anne and Mark both looked to Brian to fill them in on the details, which he did.

"We were going to take a walk before dinner. The place up at Jenks Lake. There's a really nice path that goes down by the water. We were watching the sun start to set. We were just standing there,"

"Kissing," his wife added, her cheeks pinking at the admission. "Just say it. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Married people kiss. They certainly do," she said, nodding toward her folks.

"Yes, kissing. Her arms were around my neck. Then they dropped to to the front of my shirt. She was shaking, then sagging. Then she collapsed," he said, voice tightening as he recalled it. "I put her in the car when she didn't come right back around. I called 9-1-1. The dispatcher directed me here."

He stood on the other side of the bed, running his fingers through her hair.

"She was out about four minutes," he said, then pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Now we're just waiting for the results of her bloodwork and all."

"Well, they ought to answer any questions. I've certainly given them enough over the last two days," she said with a roll of the eyes. "Now all I want is to sit in front of the fire in that cabin with a huge cup of tea."

"Well, I'm afraid you'll need to forgo the tea for a while," said the gentleman who slipped through the door.

All eyes turned his way.

Sharon and Andy entered the medical center through the emergency entrance. Scanning the small waiting area, their eyes landed on Drew and Melanie, tucked into a vinyl loveseat beneath a window.

Andy dropped his wife's hand and placed his, instead, against her back, giving a gentle push in their direction.

"Hi, honey," Sharon told their boy. "Heard anything?" she asked as she took a seat on the coffee table in front of them.

Andy stood at her back, his hands resting atop her shoulders, hoping for an update.

"Not really," said his son. "Anne and Mark are back there with her. We talked to Brian for a few minutes when we got here. He said they ordered a CBC. I imagine they drew enough to take a further look at anything that pops. They'll look at electrolytes and kidney function. I'm sure they did an EKG. She'll have a blood pressure cuff on to monitor any fluctuations there."

"She may even leave with a Holter to monitor her for a short time. They'll cover their bases and go from there," added Melanie.

"Just sit down, honey," Sharon told her husband over her shoulder. "I'm sure someone will fill us in as soon as they can."

He stepped around her and sat beside her, draping an arm across her knees. Together, they settled in to wait.

The Bear Village Security patrol made its regular five o'clock sweep of the Patton property, hardly a look at all, before making the corner and heading back toward town. That was his cue.

Javier Torres slipped from the darkened corner and opened the garage door before sliding behind the wheel of a late model sedan he could see himself driving longterm. A couple of twisted wires later, a skill he'd perfected early on, the car's engine roared to life and he backed down the long driveway. He had a short trip to make, less than ninety minutes, round trip, if he got lucky. He had business to attend to, important business.

"Mrs. Walsh, I'm Dr. Fischer. How are you feeling?"

A middle-aged doctor with hair the color of sand, entered the room. He had a quiet, thoughtful manner to match his soft, sonorous baritone.

Anne and Mark shared a look, then stood to leave. She may be their girl, but she was Brian's wife. A young woman, but a woman nonetheless.

"We'll step outside and let you talk," said Mark.

The doctor nodded, but his patient did not.

"There's no need. Please stay," said Lydi. "Dr. Fischer, these are my parents, Anne and Mark James, and this my husband, Brian. I'm just going to tell them whatever you tell me."

He smiled as he stepped toward the end of the bed. He didn't mind, was relieved, actually. She may be a married woman, but she was quite young, according to her chart. She was going to need their help.

"Very well. It's nice to meet you all. Mrs. Walsh, you're looking better than when you first arrived. Feeling better?"

He reached for her hand, his fingers circling her wrist. As she answered with a Much better, thank you, he focused on her pulse while studying her eyes. He then moved closer and rested the bell of his stethoscope against her chest. Placing the tubes in his ears, he listened closely as the rest of the room grew instinctively silent.

He made a few updates to the electronic chart, adding the latest temperature and blood monitor readings from the bedside stand.

"I have the results of your bloodwork, and since you gave us permission to contact your doctor, we did that. She rushed yesterday's tests so we have those to compare with today's. Putting those together with your physical exam, what we're looking at is Anemia. You mentioned some dizzy spells, fatigue, heart palpitations. All are symptoms of Anemia, among a host of other things. Your hemoglobin level confirms it."

"Oh, okay. Is that bad?" Lydi asked him. "Patrice said things like strawberries and bananas were rich in iron. That's good for anemia, right? Vitamins and iron-rich foods?"

Anne and Mark looked from their girl to her doctor, a mix of hope and fear on their faces.

"Yes, all of that helps and you should definitely do that. What is particularly concerning about your anemia, is your hemoglobin level. Normal levels in a healthy young woman such as yourself would range from just under 11 gdp to about 15. Yours, yesterday, was 7.1 That's pretty severe, Mrs. Walsh. The panel we ran today came in at just under 7.0. That's an alarming drop in less than forty-eight hours."

"What does that mean, doctor?" asked Anne, the grip on her husband's hand tightening.

"Well, tonight it means she will be our special guest. We'll continue to monitor all of her vitals, keep her still and comfortable, and repeat her blood panel in the morning. We'll check and see if the numbers go back up, hold steady, or continue to fall."

"And if they fall lower?" asked Brian, keeping his voice as steady as possible.

"Well, she's otherwise healthy and strong. I think she'd be helped a lot with a blood transfusion from a family member. A healthy dose of some good, strong red blood cells would do her a world of good."

Anne and Mark sunk. They weren't biological family members.

"Then I'll find her a family member," said Mark, who quickly kissed his wife, and blew another to his daughter.

At the doctor's obvious confusion, Lydi simply looked at him and said, "Let me explain."

Mark pushed through the doors leading into the waiting room. He almost missed his friends sitting in the corner, but for Drew calling to him.

"Mark, hey, over here."

The four of them shot to their feet as Mark quickly rerouted himself to meet them in the corner.

Their friend looked upset. He looked frightened and even angry.

Andy laid a hand on his friend's shoulder and squeezed.

"Hey, brother. Tell us what you need."

He kept it shot and to the point. His friend was in distress.

"She's anemic, severely so. She's going to need a transfusion but, obviously, we're no help biologically. I need to find her father."

"You're her father, Mark," said Sharon.

"I know that, Sharon. This isn't about my feelings. I know my daughter loves me. I know we're family. I don't feel threatened by this man, but I do need to find him. My girl needs help from a blood relative and, like it or not, that's him."

"Where is he?" asked Mel. "Who is he? Where on earth do we start?"

"I've no idea, but I won't stop until I find Javi Torres and drag him back here to help my kid," he said, turning to go.

They watched him quicken his stride, bound for the car.

"Wait."

Mark almost didn't stop. He almost didn't hear him at all. But he did. He stopped, but he don't turn.

"I don't have a lot of time, Drew. What is it?"

"You said the man's name is Javi?" Drew asked, slowly stepping away from the group, approaching Mark where he stood at the exit.

"Yeah. Javier Torres. He's the guy that crashed his car into their house," he said, gesturing toward their friends. "Some coincidence, huh," he said, clearly not believing it. "Claims he's housesitting somewhere in the area. Suppose I could start by asking around to see who all has left the area for a while. Who would need a house sitter?"

"Javi," said Drew. Turning to Melanie, he said, "That's the name of the guy who helped me with the groceries the other day. Said he was looking after a house for some friends, the Pattons, I think. Said his name was Javi. I didn't think anything of it. Seemed like a nice guy."

"He was watching our house," said Andy, joining them. "A few nights ago, Sharon and I were on the hill watching the sun go down. We could see the house and the street from up there. He was standing at the side of the road, just watching. It was odd, I tell you."

"Let's go," said Sharon. "The Patton house seems a good place to start." She turned to retrieve her purse.

"And if he's not there?" asked Drew.

"Who better than us to conduct a stake out?"

While Lydi finally rested, doctor's orders, and Brian rested with her, everyone else found a way to help, desperate to do just that.

Mel and Drew hit the village, both on their phones. Drew put in a call to Rusty and Mel, to Patrice. Rusty promised to call the family and check on his grandmother after work. He also called his brother, but Ricky had already been brought up to speed. Mark and Anne had called Holly to let her know what was going on with her new sister. She was, obviously, upset at the news and, despite being told there was no need to come, was likely already en route.

While Melanie and Drew asked around town about homes with out of town owners, empty houses, strangers in the area, the others made their way out to the Patton residence. As there was no one home, they split up, made themselves discreet, and settled in to wait.

With only a couple of leads, Mel and Drew made a circuit of the town, popping in on the homes suggested to them. Each one had a young adult, one a grad student housesitting for the semester, the other, a young man doing an internship at a local firm, and house swapping for the six months of his training. When neither checked out, they checked in with the others.

With the Patton house covered, Drew and Melanie decided to take Brian a bite to eat and a change of clothes.

When they arrived, the found Lydi dosing, Brian at her side.

Drew and Mel watched them. They really were precious, they thought. So together, so solid, and so very young. They'd spoken at length about it and agreed, neither of them would have felt ready for that kind of commitment when they were only twenty. At thirty, they had only just felt the time was right.

Brian held her hand in his, and leaned heavily on the other, his chin resting on his fist, his elbow on the mattress beside his wife. His eyes were closed, but he was not asleep. No, knowing him, Brian was steeped in prayer. As he told it, it hadn't failed him yet.

They waited just inside the door of the room to which she'd been moved. When the doctor decided to admit her for observation, he'd had her transferred upstairs to a quiet room near the nurses station. Brian sensed a shift in the room and, looking up, welcomed them with a tired smile.

"Hey," he softly greeted them. "Come in. She's in and out. Hard to sleep well in here. Sit down."

Her new room boasted a small sofa in addition to the reclining chair. There was a window that afforded them a view of the night sky, their rosy sunset now a panic-tinged memory.

"We brought you something to eat and a change of clothes. Thought you might be hungry by now," said Drew, holding up a bag. "It's just a soup and salad from the deli in the village."

Mel saw him gearing up to protest, but cut him off.

"I know you probably don't feel like eating, but you need to stay healthy if you're going to help her. Have something, just a little, Brian. If you get sick, she'll feel even worse for worrying you so much."

"She's really good at the guilt thing, huh," Drew teased, winking at his fiancee. It worked. Brian took the offered food.

"Have they found him?" Brian asked them. Him was all that was necessary. They knew exactly who him was.

"We have a lead. I think I know where the guy is staying. Apparently, I unknowingly met Lydi's dad a few days ago."

Brian looked up from his salad, eyes wide.

"Javi is not my dad," Lydi mumbled. "He may have sired me, but a dad is more than that."

"I was unloading groceries from the truck the other day and I was dropping everything. It was like something out of a comedy. Oranges rolling down the driveway. I made a mess of it all and along comes this stranger. He starts picking things up, helping without being asked. We have a brief conversation. Pleasant sort of guy. Says his name is Javi and he's housesitting in the area. I say, 'Oh, yeah. The Pattons mentioned they were looking for someone.' And he says what a nice place it is and, not much else. He went on his way. I had no idea who I was really talking to."

"Did you see which way he went when he left?" asked Brian, suddenly hungrier than he realized.

"I wasn't paying attention at that point. I had other things on my mind," he admitted, glancing at his fiancee. "Dad and Sharon said he's been watching their place."

"He what?" said Lydi, her eyes opening. She started to sit up and her monitor began to scream.

"Hey, sweetheart, calm down. Lay back. You can't get excited like that. You're safe. We're safe. My aunt and uncle know how to take care of themselves. I promise."

"Lydi, we're going to figure it all out. Why he's here, why he's watching my folks' house, why he crashed his car into it."

"He said he it was a diabetic episode. He lost control," said Brian, rolling his eyes, clearly doubtful.

"I don't know if we can trust a thing he says, and I don't like saying that," said Lydi. "It's seems unnecessarily suspicious, unkind. Like he can't just be here to reconnect with me. It has to be something nefarious, simply because of the past. But that's how I feel."

Brian sighed. Setting his meal aside, he shifted from the chair to the edge of he bed and slipped an arm around her.

"And that's okay. The past steps on the heels of the future, whether it's right or not. It colors how we view things. It's supposed to, I think. It gives us a perspective that can keep us safe and balanced. Lydi, you always look for the best in people. Even when this guy showed up, as much as it bothered you, you gave him your ear. You met with him, heard him out. There's not an unkind bone in your body. If you want to spend your time thinking about this Javi, think about how you want to move forward with him, if at all. Don't worry about any of this other stuff. Let somebody else do that. First though, worry about getting well," he said, bending over her to press a kiss to her lips, ceasing their quivering.

Unable to speak, she simply nodded.

The car, a newer model high-end number, pulled slowly into the drive and parked in the garage tucked back and to the side of the stately home. A moment later, a figure darkly clad, exited the garage and let himself into the house through a side door.

That was Mark's cue. He made his way up the drive, parking his car just outside the garage, climbed out, and made his way to the same door. Knocking, he waited. He didn't have to wait long.

The door opened. It was Torres. He eyed his visitor warily, standing in the doorway, unwilling to move.

"You're Lydia's…" he began.

"I'm Mark James, Mr. Torres. Can I speak with you, please? It's very important, I assure you."

Torres looked him over, not wanting to engage the man at all, but not wanting to aggravate a situation that had already drawn more attention than he'd intended. He stepped out into the evening, pulling the door closed behind him.

"What is it, Mr. James? I've got some yard work to do tonight."

He took a few steps away from the door, pulling him into the yard, away from the house and its windows.

"Mr. Torres, Lydi is in the hospital. She's sick and she needs a blood transfusion. You're a blood relative, the only one she has. She needs your help. Please."

Javi Torres took a deep breath, let it out, and dropped his chin to his chest. What could he do? If he could help, she could help him. But he couldn't. Maybe, if they didn't know that just yet, though, it could still buy him some good will.

"What do I need to do?"

Mark and Anne returned to the hospital to find both of their girls sitting together on the narrow mattress. They smiled at the sight, something about the easy solidarity between the two calming them both.

"There are my girls," said their father, greeting them both. He crossed the small room to kiss them both. Holly beamed up at him. Lydi's smile held a question.

Anne rounded the bed and ran her hand over Lydi's hair before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Hey, baby," she whispered. Then to Holly, she added, "Hi there, sweetheart. It's good to see you. How was the drive over? Traffic bad?"

"Not terribly, but not exactly great," she admitted. "I just wanted to get here. I didn't want to wait."

"I'm glad you're here," said Lydi. "Thanks for making Brian take a break. I was afraid he would argue."

"You know he's just hanging out in the waiting room, giving you girls some time together," said Anne, a smirk on her face.

"Of course he is," Lydi smiled. "He's the best."

"I think we all scored big, girls," said Anne, winking at her husband.

"So, did you find him?" Lydi asked, unwilling to wait any longer.

She leaned her head on her sister's shoulder and pulled the blanket up higher, sinking into the covers.

"I did. I explained the situation and he said he'll be here first thing in the morning to be tested."

His wife slid up beside him and wrapped her arms around him. When he draped an arm around her shoulder, she tucked herself close against him. He'd done a difficult thing, finding Javi Torres, confronting him, asking him to help their daughter. It was a heavy errand, but one he completed because his daughter needed it.

"Well then," said Lydi. "We'll see, won't we?"

Night fell over the cabin on the lake. Andy locked up the house and padded his way to the bedroom where he found his wife. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, rosary in hand. Untucking his shirt as he went, he joined her on the bed, wrapped one arm around her and joined his other hand with hers. Together, they prayed.

Next door, Maggie could be found doing the same and, in her own room, Patrice as well.

To one side, The Jameses were in much the same position, to the other, Rusty's family, with Lydi in their thoughts. Mel and Drew went to bed with their closest friends on their minds, as did Holly, who was bunking with her dad and his wife.

Over in San Bernardino, the young couple managed to find a way to safely share the small bed. Mindful of her iv and other lines, Brian joined her on the thin mattress, curled an arm around her shoulders, and tucked her snugly against him.

Lydi sighed and sank against him, still seeking the warmth which had eluded her for weeks. Resting her hand in the fold of his neck, careful to keep the iv free of entanglements, she breathed deeply of him, the scent which had soothed her since the day they met. Then, in short order, she slept.

Brian continued the prayers which had been on his lips for the last several hours until he, too, joined her in slumber.

Well before dawn broke, they were awake again, each to their own tasks. Mark and Anne were up and out the door, the hospital their destination. Sharon rose to the aroma of coffee and bacon, Maggie's contribution to keeping them all going. Andy was a little slower in following her. He'd only slept the hours since returning from his makeshift stakeout at the Patton house.

After Mark had visited with Mr. Torres the previous evening, Sharon and Andy had stayed behind to make sure he stayed put. Around midnight, Provenza spelled them, Andy giving up on sleep and joining him at around four a.m.

An hour later, a deputy from the Sheriff's office pulled up behind them, still a far piece away from the property, and took over. Apparently Sheriff Goddard was not out of favors.

"Good morning, Sunshines," chuckled Maggie, turning bacon at the stove. "Long night?"

"Just like old times," Andy said dryly as he poured a cup of coffee. "Provenza hasn't lost his touch. He's still a treat to be with on a stakeout."

Sharon laughed under her breath, that low, throaty alto he so loved.

"Really, Babe. You're much better company," he said, nudging her shoulder.

"Why, thank you," she said, rising on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Right back at you. Any word? From anybody?"

She took a plate and began filling it while he revived himself with Maggie's coffee. She knew just how he liked it on mornings like this.

"Goddard texted about twenty minutes ago. No movement. That's good, I suppose. I'm almost surprised. I thought he'd try to bolt, really. Hate to sound suspicious, but"

"No," she agreed, "I get it. There's no reason to trust him either way yet. Nothing to base anything on. All we've got to go on is he left his daughter more than a decade ago and he crashed his car into our house," she said with a huff. "Not the best track record. Any word from Brian?" she asked, not sure she wanted an answer.

"I texted him, just in case they were actually sleeping. He wasn't. Said they rested okay for a while, in between nurse checks. They finally gave up a couple of hours ago. They've been alternating between flipping through channels and playing cards."

Sharon handed him a plate and directed him to the table with the serving spoon. After she loaded her own plate, she joined him.

"I imagine Mark and Anne are already on their way. I believe Patrice was going to drive over this morning as well. She was hoping to be of help translating all the information they're being given. I'm sure it's all pretty overwhelming to everyone."

"Good," he said, taking another swig of his coffee. "That's good. She's good at putting that stuff into plain English. I figured we drive over at some point. There's no rush. We can't all be with them at once. Maybe we'll take something over for them to eat later?"

Sharon covered his free hand and smiled. He was trying to do his worrying from afar. She knew he'd called his sister the evening before to bring her up to speed.

Maggie shuffled to the table, topped off their coffee cups, and sat with them. She'd already have her own breakfast, but was eager to hear the updates.

"I'll put together some sandwiches and such. You can take them with you when you go. You might take whatever they're reading. Lydi says they read together each night. I can't imagine they have their book at the hospital. Maybe one of her sweaters too. She's been so cold lately."

"That's a wonderful idea, Mom. Thank you. I'll do that," said Sharon. "I'll text Brian in a bit. See what we can bring without too much poking around at their place."

"You do that. I'll talk to Patrice. See what she recommends for lunch."

"You're a good woman, Maggie," said Andy, smiling around his cup.

"I'm still good for some things child," she said, beaming.

Anne and Mark found their girl sitting up in the large vinyl recliner wedged into the corner of her room. Tucked under her a blanket and further warmed by the sunlight reaching through the window, she was picking her way through a bowl of hospital-grade oatmeal and fruit. Her husband sat on the arm of the chair, sipping a cup of coffee decidedly less impressive than Maggie's.

"Good morning, honey," said Anne, crossing the room to kiss her girl. "Get any rest?"

She laid her hand on her son-in-law's shoulder and let her eyes pass between the two, indicating the question was meant for both.

"Some," Lydi admitted. "Hard to sleep in here. It's just as busy at night as it is during the day."

"Plus, we've," Brian tilted his head toward Lydi, "had a few things on our mind."

Lydi set her spoon down and shoved her tray away. What she wouldn't give for some of Maggie's oatmeal. At least hers had flavor.

"You think he'll show?" she asked them. There was no need to be more specific.

"I hope so, honey," said Mark. "He said he would. Let's just go with that until we have reason to think otherwise."

"Maybe he'll do the right thing. This is a chance for him to do something really important for you. Something we can't," said Anne. "His chance to step up."

"I hope so. Then I think I don't want him to. I don't want any part of him in me, but I do. I need it. Gosh, it's all so confusing."

"To you, it is," said Brian. "I can see that it's eating you up. To me, I just want you well, no matter how it happens or who it involves. No matter who makes it happens or who I have to thank in the end. I don't care. As long as I've got you at the end of the day, it's a win."

"Agreed," said Mark. If I have to take him to keep you, I'm in. No question."

Lydi blinked at the tears that loomed. Looking at her husband, she sniffed and smiled.

"See? Told you there was more to being a dad."

Javi Torres took his third and final load from house to trunk before closing up and climbing behind the wheel. It was still early. Not even six. With nearly an hour left before sunrise, there was time to get out of town well before his eight thirty appointment at the hospital in San Bernardino. He could be practically to LA by then and lost in a city that size. Of course, he wouldn't have what he'd come for. He was leaving with more than he'd arrived with, however, and that would have to do. With this last load, he may even have enough to get what he needed south of the border. Mexico had organs too.

The roads were clear this early, no traffic to speak of. He sailed through the lights, though he kept to the speed limit. He wouldn't want to draw any attention. There were only a few cars on the roads at all, just the poor stiffs stuck with the early shifts.

No, at this rate, he could find his guy just outside of Riverside, do a little business, and be in Mexico by noon. Lydia would be fine without him. She'd done well on her own so far. Doctors could work miracles these days, couldn't they?

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sight of a patrol car in his rearview mirror. Eyeing his speedometer, he let out a steady breath. He wasn't speeding. The car was probably just on the job and would pass him eventually. He steadying his breathing, trying not to become alarmed, but the amount of stolen goods in the trunk of his borrowed car were enough to keep his pulse racing.

Suddenly, the cruiser's lights flashed and the siren began to whine. In an unpredicted move, the car zipped past him, as he'd hoped, only to pull in front of him at a sharp angle and cut him off. Torres had to swerve onto the shoulder to avoid a collision.

When two officers jumped from their vehicle, displaying weapons, he knew he'd better think fast. This would put even his best acting skills to the test.

He lowered the windows on the sedan and extended both of his hands, showing them to be empty and no threat. When directed, he slowly stepped from the vehicle and turned to place his hands atop it. He followed their every command.

"You Javier Torres?" the first asked.

"Yessir, I am. What seems to be the problem, Officer?"

He kept his voice as steady as could be. He was, after all, simply a confused citizen, only out running errands early on a Saturday morning. Before mass, yeah. That was a nice, church. Maybe he would visit his mother afterward too, Javi thought, mentally rolling his eyes.

"This your car, Mr. Torres?" asked the second.

"Uh, no, sir. Actually, it's not. I'm housesitting for friends in the area. Perhaps you know them. The Pattons? They're out of town for a spell. I'm looking after things for them."

"Yes, sir. I believe they mentioned something about a vacation some time back. I wasn't aware they'd found someone."

Javi sighed and smiled. This was going well.

"Since I was unaware they'd engaged someone to watch the house, you can imagine my concern when I saw their car out on the highway out of town last night, Mr. Torres. Doing my due diligence as Sheriff, I put in a call to Mr. and Mrs. Patton. They're on the city council, by the way. Good people. We all look out for one another in these parts. Apparently they had trouble finding one of the local college kids who usually housesit for them, so they simply employed a local security agency this time. They couldn't imagine why their car would be anywhere but locked in their garage. Naturally, I assured them we would look into it and get right back to them."

Plan B, thought Javi.

"Look, I can explain everything to you guys, but first I need to get to the hospital in San Bernardino. Do you guys happen to know a young woman named Lydia Walsh?"

The two officers looked at one another, then back at Mr. Torres. That was their original reason for tailing the man, to make certain he showed at the hospital. Andy Flynn had called the sheriff and explained the situation. He was concerned, and with good reason it seemed, that the man would fail to show up as agreed. Then a simple phone call to Jim and Lina Patton added to his suspicions. The only thing Sheriff Goddard knew about him for certain was that he was indeed the father who had abandoned that sweet Lydi from Hope House. That alone was enough to make him untrustworthy in his book.

"I do indeed, sir. Good young woman, she is," said the Sheriff.

"Lydia is my daughter, uh my biological child, given up for adoption. It's taken a lifetime to find her and now that I have, it's a miracle. It turns out, she's very ill. I'm on my way to the hospital now so they can test me and see if I can help her. So, you see, I can and will explain everything to you, but right now you have to let me get to my kid. Please. Its an emergency."

The two officers exchanged a look. The Sheriff, at least, knew the man's story was at the very least, incomplete, and at most, grossly misleading. He knew Lydi was sick. He knew the man had agreed to meet them at the hospital. His presence at the Patton house, his use of their car, his giving her up for adoption, were flat out falsehoods.

"Mr. Torres, this is Deputy Timms. He will escort you to the Medical Center, see that you find the appropriate people to get those tests underway. I will follow in this car."

Sheriff Goddard did not miss the look of alarm that passed quickly over Javi's features. He covered quickly, but not quickly enough.

Javi swallowed hard and nodded. He had to hope for two things, that they wouldn't think to look in the trunk of the car and that he would find a moment, just one, in which to slip away.

"He's on his way to you now."

Mark let the words sink in. He was coming. Not of his own will, likely, if Goddard was correct in his suspicions. He was coming, though, by escort. The Sheriff had gotten the Pattons to officially report their car stolen. Torres was unaware of that little tidbit. That would allow the authorities to search the car as well as detain Mr. Torres. That gave them some leverage.

Lydi's nurse approached the room. Vitals check time. Mark tucked his phone back into his pocket and stepped forward.

"Could you please tell Dr. Fischer Lydia's biological father is on his way in. He asked to be notified as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir. I certainly will. We'll get him to the lab for testing asap. We'll type and crossmatch and set up that transfusion just as soon as we can."

"She's B negative," Mark needlessly reminded the woman. They'd learned that when Lydi had taken a fall the winter they'd first brought her to the lake to meet their friends. They'd started adoption proceedings shortly thereafter.

"Yes, sir. It's in her chart. We'll still have to test him. We wouldn't want to make matters worse."

"Of course not," he said, lowering his head. He knew that, intellectually. He was just out of his mind with worry.

The nurse laid a hand against his arm, seeing his concern, then silently slipped away.

Mark watched her go, his heart beating like a big brass band. They'd all lost so much already, he, his wife. Holly had lost her mother. Lydi, her parents. Anne, her husband and little girl. He didn't think his wife could lose another daughter.

"Mark?" he heard. Looking up, he found Patrice and the lieutenant making their way down the hall.

"Is everything alright?" she asked him.

"I think so, yes," he said. "I just stepped out to take a call. The Sheriff said his deputy is escorting Mr. Torres to the hospital as we speak. They found him on the road out of town just now. His deputy is bringing him here. Goddard is taking his car to Impound. He'll have his guys go through it. See what they find., if it answers any of our questions."

"Good, good. I'd be happy to meet our Mr. Torres and make sure he doesn't get lost on his way to the lab. That would be a shame, now wouldn't it?" Louie said, with a smirk.

Mark merely chuckled with no real mirth.

Half past eight found a small group gathered in the small waiting room, nursing Maggie's coffee. Hospitals practically required consumption by the bucket and on hers would do the trick. Sharon claimed, and rightly so, the institutional stuff would peel the paint off the walls.

Sharon and Andy, Melanie and Drew, Rusty, and Holly all sat talking about nothing important in an effort to avoid talking about the thing weighing most heavily on their minds.

Brian was still with his wife, having been at her side every moment since she'd collapsed. Her parents were with her as well, as was Patrice who, true to form, was endlessly valuable at translating medicalese into English.

Provenza, true to his word, had shuffled off to the hospital entrance agreed upon and met their guest.

As promised, Javier Torres sat down, filled out copious amounts of paperwork before then allowing the staff to draw enough blood to type and test his blood before transfusion. He answered their questions politely, if not truthfully.

You are Blood Type B negative?
Yes Are you currently taking an antibiotic?
No Are you currently on any of the medicines listed before you?
No Have you been out of the country in the last three years?
I have not.
Have you truthfully answered the confidential medical questionnaire to the best of your knowledge?
I have. Look, you can discuss all this with my daughter. I don't want to have any secrets from her. Call my doctor in San Diego. I'll sign anything you want.

All eyes looked up as the nurse entered Lydi's room.

She sat with her husband, the pair of them sharing the bed, waiting. Her parents had taken the recliner and sat in much the same position, wearing much the same expression. Patrice was perched one the small plastic chair opposite the bed, her embroidery in her lap. The room was quiet. They had, for the time being, given up on small talk.

"Is it time? Are we good to go?" asked Lydi. She wasn't much looking forward to a transfusion. Needles weren't her favorite form of treatment. She was, however, tired of feeling tired. She was also completely over the worried looks of her family.

"Not yet, honey. I'm just here for more blood. Sorry. Need to see how your hemoglobin's looking today. I'm sure Dr. Fischer will be in to address the transfusion soon."

Lydi nodded, disappointed. She just wanted it over with it.

The nurse drew her blood with a skilled hand and a quiet demeanor, then left them again. Anne followed her from the room to update the others. It was another twenty minutes before the doctor appeared.

"Mrs. Walsh," he said in that quiet, authoritative way of his. "I have news for you. Some discouraging and some quite heartening actually."

Lydi and Brian sat up, as one. Lydi extended her free hand in search of Mark's. Both knew Anne would want to hear whatever the doctor had to say. At the same time, they both knew the discouraging part could possibly be harder on her than anyone.

"We tested Mr. Torres' blood this morning, twice actually."

"He wasn't a match?" Lydi asked, shocked at the idea.

"He was, actually. B negative, just as he said. Unfortunately, we can't use his blood for transfusion, Lydi. Mr. Torres, uh, he gave me leave to disclose this. Mr. Torres has Hepatitis."

"Good Lord," uttered Patrice.

"And he didn't realize that when he came in?" asked Lydi. She didn't know if she was upset for him or bothered that he'd conceal it. "He mentioned he had Diabetes, but that's all."

"Diabetes," said Fischer. "No, no Diabetes indicated. And you can have Hepatitis and not know it. However," he paused, quite obviously bothered by the situation.

"He knows and he came in anyway?" said Brian.

The doctor leaned against the wall and propped a foot against the bed frame.

"He had Elbasvir in his system. Its a common Hepatitis drug. Also some meds routinely used for treating liver failure." He took a deep breath. "He knows."

They all let the news sink in.

"You said there was some good news?" Brian said, reaching for something to hold onto.

Dr. Fischer smiled.

"Your sweet wife has made quite an impression on the staff here," he said. "They are setting up a screening for this afternoon. There are at least two dozen people signed up to see if they might be a match for you, Lydia."

Through fresh tears, she smiled. Her husband tugged her close and shed tears of his own. He didn't much care how his prayers were answered.

"B negative is quite rare, but anything is possible," said the doctor.

Patrice's head titled. That struck her.

"Dr. Fischer, B negative isn't the only option available to Lydi."

The doctor turned and gave the woman an odd look.

"I'm sorry. You are.."

"This is Patrice Provenza. She's our family nurse, so to speak. She's a retired RN," said Lydi.

The doctor set his foot down, standing taller, his hands folded in front of him.

"You're right, Mrs. Provenza. We're scanning for B negative and compatible types which, unfortunately in this case, is only"

"One," she said. "Yes, I know. B negative is only compatible with one other blood type." Turning to Mark, she smiled. "O negative."

Javi Torres now sat in a holding cell. He'd gone through the entire charade, gone so far as to give them the blood they'd needed for testing, all in an effort to buy him some time and good will. So much for that. Here he sat. Clearly, they had him for stealing the car. They knew he was staying in the house without permission. He could maybe talk his way out of that one. After all, a guy, fallen on hard times, finds a warm place to stay. What did it harm? The trouble was the car. The contents were all kinds of incriminating. No. He had to get out.

Lydi got her transfusion that afternoon. It came just in time. Her hemoglobin had fallen another degree. The moment Mark realized he could potentially share his blood with his daughter, he went straight to the lab, his wife at his side.

Given the severity of her anemia, and the mystery behind its root cause, Lydi was kept another night. She reacted well to the transfusion, the only issue being a mild fever, which resolved itself.

Lydi didn't have much knowledge of her medical history. Her mother had died when Lydi was only seven, as best she remembered, and her father left a couple of years later. The file that followed her from one foster home to the next gradually grew less complete. Once she came to live with Mark and Anne and had regular medical care, that changed, but her early history was was an enigma. It made finding the cause of her anemia particularly tricky.

The good news was, for now, Lydi was improving. That was worth celebrating.

While her doctor, with the assistance of a hematologist, tried to pinpoint the origin of her specific form of anemia, Lydi remained their guest at the hospital. There was talk of transferring her to a larger facility in LA or San Fransisco, but those thoughts were put to bed for the time being. They may be readdressed later, but for now, she was staying put, close to home and family.

The transfusion boosted her hemoglobin levels up to a much more encouraging level and her doctor was very pleased, at least until Monday morning. Lydi's temperature rose and she began experiencing pain behind her ribs. Fearing rejection of the new red blood cells, bloodwork was rushed, but showed only a drastic change in the white cells.

Both physicians suspected an issue with her spleen and sent her to imaging to take a look. In less than an hour, she was returned to them. In another, she was gone again.

Taken by ambulance to a larger facility in the heart of San Bernardino, her husband at her side, Lydi would have her spleen removed, thereby fixing the fever, the pain, and the anemia, all at once. That was the plan, at least.

Sharon and Andy followed, a fearful Mark and Anne with them. The others wouldn't be far behind. They would be stopping to pick up clothes for the duration, as it was doubtful most would be leaving Lydi's side.

The good news, according to Dr. Fischer, was that they had answers and a plan. They'd found the culprit in time and sweet Lydi should make a full recovery. They just had to get her through the surgery to start her on that path.

It took right at half an hour to transport, just over an hour to prep, and they were under way.

Anne stood at the window of the surgical waiting room, reserved for families of patients currently in the operating area. The window didn't offer much in the way of a view, the rooftop of the floor below not much to look at. The glass was cold, adding the chill which had settled within her from the moment she received the call regarding her daughter.

Her daughter. Boy was that unexpected. So was losing a husband and child after only a few years together, but that had happened too. Being given another husband, another daughter, two when she counted the added blessing of Mark's daughter, Holly, was nothing short of a miracle. And now, here they were, in a hospital. Lydia was in surgery. Doctors were throwing terms at them they had no hope of keeping up with. Splenectomy, hemoglobin, laparoscopic, hemolytic. It was maddening.

"She's going to be alright, you know. They've gotten to the bottom of it. She's in a great facility with a great team."

Anne hugged herself more tightly still, raising her eyes as if it would keep the tears from falling.

"You're not going to lose your girl this time," Anne.

She blindly extended her hand, trusting her friend was there to accept it.

"I believe that, Sharon. I do. I think I'm just overwhelmed. I feel like I should have seen this coming. We just thought she was working too hard. I mean, we thought maybe she was coming down with something, but we sure didn't imagine this."

Sharon pulled her friend's hand to her chest, clasping it to her heart.

"Oh course you didn't. No one did. I'm just so grateful Brian kept his head, got her straight to the hospital. You know, those two kids are more level headed that a lot of the officers we've commanded over our careers. Wouldn't you say? Our two favorite lieutenants, for example."

"You know, you're right?" she chucked, her voice breaking a little.

Sharon rested her free hand alongside her friend's cheek, her thumb swiping away the tears that escaped as she laughed.

"There now. Isn't that better? Now, I promised I'd go to the chapel with Brian. You're welcome to join us. Might make you feel better," she said, eyebrows raised.

Her friend turned into a waiting embrace and allowed herself to be held.

"As Mark always says, it certainly won't make me feel worse," she said.

"Well, he is a preacher," Sharon could be heard as they walked away.

Andy sat quietly beside his friend of several years. Mark James had been a counselor, a confessor or sorts, for more than a decade. The two had met after an AA meeting one ordinary Thursday night, following an anything but ordinary day. He'd missed his usual eight o'clock meeting thanks to a case, not so out of the ordinary. Meetings continued on throughout the evening, sometimes late into the night if folks showed up in need of a listening ear. He had.

Andy had witnessed the end of a life that night, a life barely begun. A nineteen year old girl, run down by a drunk driver, left to die in the street, did so in his arms. That she had died at the hands of one under the influence of the demon that had once plagued him so, had truly rocked him. It took him back to a place of darkness and shame.

Enter Mark.

While the meeting had allowed Andy to share the weight that pressed so heavily on his heart, Mark put him on the path to unloading it. The two had met in a small garden just outside the hall where the meeting took place. Andy, still in an awful head space, didn't trust himself to drive home, instead opting to sit and enjoy the quiet, cool green space. Mark had found him there, having worked late into the night at the church where he served as pastor. Thus began a long and fruitful brotherhood. He had even performed Andy and Sharon's wedding, and continued to guide the family as a whole.

Andy weighed the risk of saying the wrong thing against the choice of simply saying nothing. His friend was in a tough spot. The man had suffered much already. He'd managed to hold his little family together, just a lonely man and his little girl, trusting in the God he served. He'd been rewarded with more love than he'd ever imagined with Anne and Lydi. Now, he saw an old, familiar fear in them both.

"Some burdens aren't meant for us to carry alone," he finally said.

"Hm," Mark grunted more than answered.

"Some burdens aren't meant for us to carry alone. A wise man once told me that. It's stuck with me for a long time. Men tend to think we're supposed to stay strong for everyone, carry the family's load without breaking. But we're not meant to carry some loads."

"That wasn't a wise man, Andy. I told you that one night long ago."

Smiling, Andy nodded. "Yep. So, maybe take your own advice. Let us help, or better yet, turn it over to the One who can carry it all, no sweat."

Mark sat back, dropping his against the sofa, and sighed.

"Practicing what we preach isn't always as easy as we'd like to think, is it?"

"Not at all. It's not supposed to be. But it's not a bad place to start. Have faith in the doctors. I've been really impressed the whole time. Not one has put her off. They've listened. They've seen her. They've trusted her intuition. I have a feeling she's turned a corner."

Mark turned to look at his friend.

"I do too, Andy. I do too and it makes me nervous that I'm too optimistic too soon. Does that make sense?"

"It does, but I gotta tell you, being pessimistic never got me anywhere good. I know. I practiced it a lot. So just go with the good, okay?"

Mark leaned back again, exhaling through pursed lips.

"Is that the Sharon Effect your Nicole is always going on about?"

"Ha!" barked Andy, tickled at the comment. Yep. That's exactly what it was.

The projected three hours rolled into four, then five, which did nothing for the nerves of those waiting for word. When word finally came, the lot of the them silently rose to their feet in anticipation.

"Walsh?" asked a man in scrubs, his mask dangling from his neck.

"That's us," said Andy, standing. The family gathered around him, garnering a surprised look from the surgeon.

"I'm Dr. Simon, I performed Mrs. Walsh's surgery. First, let me put your minds at ease. Lydi did just fine and is resting well right now. We'll keep her in recovery for a couple of hours to watch for post-operative fever or any other reaction. Mr. Walsh, I can take you back to sit with her if you like. I'm sure she'd like to see a friendly face when she awakes."

To the others, he continued.

"We were able to do a partial splenectomy, removing about seventy percent of the spleen, including a nine centimeter cyst, which was causing a slow bleed into her abdomen. We've taken care of that as well. We do have blood on standby, if needed," he said. "As you cannot donate again for eight weeks, Dad," he said to Mark, who nodded in understanding. "I do think she will do quite well now that we've not only stabilized her condition, but also fixed the root issue. She should be in a room up on three in a couple of hours. I can have a nurse let you know which one, should you choose to wait for her there rather that stay down here. Mr. Walsh, if you're ready, I can take you to your wife."

They all looked visibly relieved, none more so than Brian and the Jameses. Hugs were passed around. Brian seemed torn between going to his wife and letting her parents go instead.

"Go, honey. She's going to be alright. That's all we need to know for now," said Anne. "We'll wait in her room. Text us if you need anything."

He gave her a grateful hug and followed the doctor, overjoyed to be on his way to Lydi's side.

Anne then fell into her husband's arms, relief flooding them both. Andy took his own wife's hand, pressed it to his lips, then clutched it tightly to his chest.

"I'll call Maggie," said Patrice, reaching for her phone.

"And I'll call Libby," said Andy. "She's been frantic, being so far away. She'll be thrilled."

Sharon kissed his cheek and released his hand so he could do just that.

"I'm going to call Rick," said Holly. "I'll either head back or he'll head out this way. The baby is easy, but Willa is into everything these days," she said, running her fingers through her hair, clearly as relieved as the others.

Drew sat on the small love seat with his girlfriend, texting on his phone. Melanie looked around the room, perplexed.

"Has anyone heard from the lieutenant?"

Sharon looked up from the book in her lap and cocked her head. "Police station, with Mr. Torres."

Mel's eyes grew large. "Yeah?"

"Yes," she said, uncharacteristically conspiratorial. "The Sheriff invited us to sit in on proceedings. Andy and I felt we should be here for Brian, and Mark and Anne. Louie volunteered to handle it."

"Oh, I'd love to be there to watch him handle it," said Mel. "I'll just bet he was something to work with back in the day."

"Oh indeed, he was," said Sharon. "Now imagine him working side by side with," she smiled, hooking a thumb toward her husband who leaned against the wall behind her, talking to his sister.

Mel simply chuckled at the image it evoked.

Andy returned to their circle, a broad smile stretching across his face.

"Libby good?" asked his wife.

"More than," said Andy. "Overwhelmed with relief and gratitude. Connor too. I even got to speak briefly with Sean," he said of Brian's father. "He's been at the house all day, just waiting for word. They all sound terrific, and send you their love. It's just a lot. The fire this summer and now Lydi. They're so far away, depending on calls and texts for updates."

Sharon took his hand and kissed it, turning to face him fully.

"Let's bring them out for Christmas. All of them. Bridget, too, if she'll come. It would do them all a world of good. It's got to be hard for Brian too, being so far from his family. He's happy here, yes, but Sean and the grandparents are all he's known. It'll be tight, be we always find room."

"Yeah," he said, framing her face and drawing her near enough to kiss. "We'll call them back this evening, once we're home and settled. I promised another update before bed anyway. You're the best, you know?"

"I do, actually. Yes," she teased. "My husband tells me all the time."

Across the room, Drew and Melanie watched as inconspicuously as possible.

"See that?" said Drew. "That's what I want for us."

"Then that's what we'll have," she said.

He watched as she reached beyond the thick fog of her drug-induced state, grasping at something more tangible on which to hold. He saw it when she found it.

Lydi's eyes first fluttered, closed again, then opened in relief at the dimly lit corner of the small recovery ward. Her eyes softened upon hearing the dearest voice she knew.

"There you are, sweet Lydi, returned to me once more. I'll tell you again later, but you're fine. Everything is well. Your parents are waiting outside. I love you. You can go back to sleep."

He knew well that she would quickly sink back under the weight of the heavy meds coursing through her system. As long as she knew she was safe and well, that he was there and would be still, they both could rest easy now.

It was another few hours before she truly awoke. She had been moved into a private room very near the nurse's station and was still quite foggy. Looking to Brian, she was relieved to receive much the same information he had given her earlier. On the other side of her bed, Mark and Anne, and sister Holly. Relief and love were smiling back at her.

She blinked groggily at their faces, trying to force them into focus.

"Hi," she said, voice tight and dry. "You're all here," she added, somewhat surprised.

"Where else would we be, sweetheart?" asked Mark. "Everything went very well. The doctor said you should feel much better now, well after some time off to rest and recover."

"Do you need anything, honey?" asked Anne. "I can call the nurse."

Lydi hummed in response, closing her eyes. "Not just yet. They'll be in soon enough."

"You have a pain pump right here," said Brian, drawing the switch closer to her arm. "When you need to, just push the button. You can't give yourself too much, so don't worry about that. How are you feeling now?"

Lydi sighed and stilled, taking stock. How did she feel? Not great, honestly. There was a dull ache all over, and a sort of pulsing all along her left side. She felt a little flushed. Was the room warm?

"I'm okay, I think. There's some discomfort, but nothing too bad yet. I'm rather warm. Is it hot in here?"

The others shared a glance, shrugging their shoulders. It really wasn't. Anne nodded toward the door.

"I'll be right back," she said, slipping quietly from the room.

Lydi extended a hand and offered a weak smile when she felt Brian take it. She looked about the room, the people who were there with her. And the flowers.

"Oh, my goodness. The flowers," she said, then coughed. She wrapped her free arm across her middle and groaned at the action.

"Ouch. That's got to hurt," said her father. "Is your throat dry?"

When she nodded, he reached for the cup of ice chips left at her side and spooned a few onto her tongue. It seemed to help.

Anne returned with a nurse in tow.

"Mrs. Walsh, good to see you awake. How are you feeling? Any pain?"

Lydi turned her face toward the woman and offered her a weak smile.

"Only a little. I'm really warm though. May I removed one of these blankets?" she asked, indicating the layers of thin fabric draped over her legs.

"Well, let's kick the tires first. I'll check your incisions and chart your vitals. See what all is going on here."

Mark and Anne moved toward the window, taking a seat on the stiff, vinyl sofa there.

The nurse, produced a thermometer and inserted it in Lydi's mouth. She then proceeded to make note of the readings on the various monitors at her bedside. After withdrawing the thermometer, she added those findings to her electronic chart, she set it aside.

"You do have a fever, Lydia. So, we'll get something on board to address that. Your bp is slightly elevated, which isn't uncommon following surgery. Neither is the fever, Mom and Dad," she said, turning to Mark and Anne. "We'll watch closely. Both are somewhat expected so we're prepared to handle it. We'll also get you something to drink. You can eat something lite a little later. I'm going to go ahead and check your incisions while I'm here, then get some meds on board and let you get back to sleep. Sound good?"

Lydi smiled and nodded. "It does. Thank you." She was already fading again.

Brian read his young wife's face, thinking perhaps she was in a bit more pain than she was letting on. Drawing the small, lightweight bedside chair as close as possible, he sat at her side and bent low, cheek to cheek.

"Lydi," he said in a near whisper, "are you in pain, baby? Tell me the truth, please."

She turned her face to meet his, so close she felt his breath against her.

"Just a little. It's only increased over the last few minutes, I promise."

He pressed a soft kiss to her brow, then the tip of her nose, then finally her lips.

"Okay."

There was a fine sheen of perspiration glistening on her face. Heat was rolling off her form. Knowing it was to be expected didn't help much. He just wanted her home and healed.

He held her hand and her eyes as the nurse drew back the blanket and peeled back the bandage covering her incisions. She checked each of the small points of entry, three tiny ones and one slightly larger one. Satisfied with their condition and appearance, she covered them again with a fresh bandage, leaving the blanket folded down toward the end of the bed. She then addressed her patient's obvious discomfort, injecting a strong analgesic into her iv.

She completed the updates on her chart while keeping a close eye on Lydi, watching for any adverse reaction to the medicine and when satisfied, left them with a sympathetic smile.

Brian ran his fingers through her air, pushing it away from her face, placing gentle kisses in its wake.

"Just sleep now, sweet Lydi. I'll be right here."

Mark and Anne looked on from their spoon the sofa, confident their girl had indeed chosen her mate well.

Midday turned to evening and there was a changing of the guard. Sharon and Andy left the hospital, Rusty and Ben taking their place, bringing with them dinner for Brian as well as Mark and Anne. Holly had been correct. Her husband had packed up the kids and driven over from LA. She'd remained at the hospital through the surgery and into the afternoon before heading back to Sharon and Andy's to get the little ones fed and in bed.

Mark and Anne took a break, joining Rusty and Ben for a quick meal in the waiting room, but Brian stayed where he was. He promised to eat, but he wouldn't leave his wife.

So, he sat at her side, the recliner pulled closer to the bed. He sipped at the soup Maggie had prepared while writing in his ever-present journal, his eyes constantly passing between the page and the bed. Brian loved watching her sleep. He'd discovered, that first morning after their wedding, that a transformation took place in sleep. His Lydi, though very young, had seen and endured much in her twenty years, more than many encountered in a lifetime. Left without a mother while still a small girl, then abandoned by her father at ten, she'd managed to fend for herself, then fight for herself for the next several years. Now, she fought for others so they might travel an easier road. In sleep, all of that disappeared. As she slumbered, and dreamed, she was just young and carefree, unburdened by her past or the future of others.

It was those thoughts which inspired the words that spilled out onto the page. Here, at her most vulnerable, in sleep, is where she was growing stronger. There was still the matter of Javier Torres. In sleep, he hoped, she was spared that worry. His prayer was that when all was said and done, she would be restored to him, better than ever, happy and whole.

"Good grief, Mom, you weren't kidding. Someone crashed into the house!"

Sharon sat across from the dining table, lowered her spoon, and smirked at her son.

"Yes, Richard, the lack of an entire front wall would confirm that fact. Did you think I was just making up a story for the purposes of entertainment? My kitchen table is now in the living room. There is plywood and plastic sheeting draped across the front of the house where a wall should be, and no matter how much we vacuum or sweep, there is a constant layer of drywall dust everywhere."

"Sure she wasn't driving it herself, Pop? You know, looking for an excuse for a remodel?" he quipped between bites,

"Richard," his grandmother admonished, giving him the eye.

"Too soon, Gram?" he said, flashing her the smile that had often gotten him out of trouble as a boy.

"It's been a difficult week, Richard," she simply said.

"Plus, I'm pretty sure that's a detail I'd remember, son," said his mother, sipping her tea.

"And the guy turned out to be Lydi's biological father. Has anyone managed to figure out what he's actually doing here?" asked Holly. "Does he want to reconnect with her? Does he want something from her? This can't all be some odd coincidence."

"Well, its certainly a lousy first impression if what's he's after is reestablishing some sort of relationship with her," said Rick. "Is that something she's even interested in?"

"She's never spoken to me about wanting to find him or even speak to him," said his wife. "When Dad and Anne first petitioned to adopt her, they had to look into having him surrender his rights, but it wasn't necessary. They had more than sufficient evidence of abandonment, so the court terminated them. I mean, I can see where she's been curious, naturally so, but not enough to look for him. She's found a real family, you know?"

"Yes, honey, she has," said her mother in law, pleased with the love she saw shining in the young woman's eyes.

"How long to they think the repairs will take?" Holly asked.

"They promised to be done by Christmas," said Andy, hopeful, but with a trace of doubt. "I'm looking at where to put everyone just in case. We'll see." He took a sip of tea, then began to rise. "Speaking of which, I need to call Libby before it gets too late back East."

"Yes, good idea. Give her my love, won't you?"

"Done," he said, dropping a kiss to the top of her head and slipping from the room.

"He's going to try and talk his sister and the family into joining us for Christmas. I think it would mean a lot to Brian to have them close after the last several months, and I know Libby would love to be here to help Lydi recuperate."

"Oh, that's a great idea, Mom. We can always bunk with Mark and Anne, free up a little space over here."

"You know they'd love that," agreed Holly. "If Nic and Jeff and their crew take the house up the road, that'll help too. I know you love having us all under one roof, but its just about where we all sleep. Everyone will be around here all day."

"That's true," Sharon said, knowing she would miss out on having them all together. Their large and growing family was outgrowing even their very large home. What a wonderful problem to have!

By the end of the week, Lydi was home, her fever gone, her pain well managed, if not gone. After camping out downstairs for the weekend, Brian finally moved her upstairs. She was thrilled to be back in her own bed, though exhausted by the climb. He waited on her day and night, writing while she napped to meet his deadlines. He heated up meals prepared by Maggie and Patrice, trying his hand at simple recipes himself, finding he enjoyed it.

She missed her frequent cups of tea, a habit she'd picked up from Sharon and Maggie, but had been cautioned to avoid them for a while due to the anemia. Instead, she was treated to fruit juices and Patrice's special vitamin-enriched smoothies along with lots of snuggles, reading, and, having moved the television upstairs, movies in bed. They made the most of her forced bedrest, Brian spending every minute with her, helping with everything from bathing to simply moving about the room.

Forced to miss the annual Fall Festival at St. Cecelia's, she was content to hear all about it from Rusty's boys, Harold and Flynn, as well as see dozens of pictures taken by the family. She was pleased to hear about all the funds raised for the children's home and found herself looking forward to putting them to use for the kids' Christmas. It was something to look forward to, something she very much needed.

Javier Torres had been arrested and booked for felony theft for the Patton's car. Further investigation of their home revealed a number of items missing, according to the home owners, and likely to reach totals in the thousands of dollars. The most serious of charges was for drug possession. The car was a treasure trove. It didn't stop him from pleading not guilty at his arraignment. With a stack of felonies and no funds with which to post his bail, Torres remained in jail.

Lydi couldn't see him, stuck in bed at home. Frankly, she was relieved for the excuse. Brian stayed with her. He wouldn't see him either. Mark and Anne decided it was wise to stay away as well. After speaking with their friend, the sheriff, Andy and Louie made the choice to pay him a visit.

The trio met at the Sheriff's Department in the village, to which Mr. Torres had been transferred after his brief time at the hospital. It wasn't a large facility, but the people were proud of it. Sheriff Goddard was pleased to be able to keep the man in custody there, without having to move him into the city. He'd been examined while there, thereby answering some rather important questions.

They sat in a small interview room, each nursing a cup of steaming coffee and talking over the notes on the table before them. Every item found in the Patton's Lexus had been methodically catalogued, several of them valued highly enough to qualify as a separate felony. Also found were drugs, some prescription, others recreational. Cash, a lot of it, was tucked safely into the glove compartment.

The warrant they had obtained allowed them to examine his cell phone, which yielded some interesting tidbits of its own.

"We've been going through Mr. Torres' phone. Between our cyber-guys and your Captain Tao in LA, we've traced the GPS as well as handful of messages to a location just outside of San Bernardino. A little area known as Beaumont Gardens. High crime area. Drugs, weapons, sex. You name it, you can find it there. Looks like that's where he was headed this morning when we intercepted him. I'd imagine it also explains the contents of the Lexus as well. Looks to me like Mr. Torres has been availing himself of the Patton's belongings while they're on holiday," he said, eyebrows wagging. "I've sent a couple of officers along to meet Mr. Torres' contact. SBPD has a team meeting them there. There may be a bigger enterprise in play there. A shared operation is safer, and a shared collar."

Andy nodded in approval. That was interesting indeed.

"And what about the drugs found in the car? He told Lydi he was diabetic. That's why he crashed his car into the house."

The sheriff thumbed through the file on the desk and shook his head.

"According to the lab report, there was nothing found to indicate Mr. Torres is being treated for Diabetes. He is, however, on Tenofovir, a common hepatitis treatment, and what our Dr. McMillon describes as a cocktail of antivirals commonly used in cases of liver failure."

That brought a pair of raised eyebrows from across the table and before either Flynn or Provenza could speak, the sheriff continued.

"Oh, it gets more interesting, I assure you. That little piece of paper Mr. Torres signed, disclosing his medical records to us, allowed us to call the doctor listed on the card found in the car. A Dr. Willard, transplant surgeon at San Diego Memorial South."

"Why on earth would the man give anyone access to his medical records if he's trying to hide his actual motives for coming around in the first place?" asked Provenza. "Does no one find it odd that the man is suddenly all too helpful?"

"Trying to curry favor with the DA?" suggested the sheriff. "Being cooperative can't hurt. We've got him for theft and he's caused a lot of damage out at your place," he said to Andy, "but he hasn't hurt anyone. Maybe he's hoping to broker a little deal for himself. We've certainly seen it. Frankly, I don't care, if it gets us the bigger fish. The man is obviously ill and if he's looking at a transplant, locking him up isn't even the worst he's facing."

Andy leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, hands dangling between them. He turned the information over in his mind, trying to make sense of it all. From that morning when their quiet sanctuary had been invaded, quite literally and rudely, by Javier Torres' car, nothing had been as if should be. Lydi should not be sick and scared. Their dearest friends should not be frightened for their daughter, nor Brian for his young wife. They should not be rebuilding a portion of their home with winter upon them. They should not, any of them, be once again doubting the motives of a stranger amongst them. Suddenly, he had the answer.

"He came here for her liver."

"Are you two sure you don't mind sharing this place with your sister's bunch?" Andy asked them. "I mean, you're getting married and you're going to have a houseful. Not exactly a honeymoon if you know what I mean," he chuckled.

His son joined him, laughing as he shoved the second of a pair of twin beds into a corner of the room.

"It's fine really. We're not going away until after Christmas anyway. We both want to be with the family for the holiday. It wouldn't be Christmas without you and Sharon."

He stood up and arched his back, admiring their work.

"This is better. Thanks. I think the boys will like it better than the bunk beds the kids from Hope House used. Now that they're older, we can give them a space that looks it, even if they still have to share, you know?"

"I do. You know, you're starting to think like a dad," said Andy. "You're going to be terrific at it, you know."

Drew dipped his head, a fringe of dark hair sweeping into his eyes.

"You really think so? We've been talking about it, a lot lately. It's part of why we took the kids in after the fire. Kind of a trial run."

"I take it the trial was successful?" suggested his father.

"Yeah," said Drew. "It was. I think we're going go for it. Not right away, but we probably won't wait too long either. We're not getting any younger."

"You'll know," said his father. "I'm proud of you, son. Really proud," he said, resting a hand atop his shoulder and gently squeezing.

"I'm proud of you too, Dad. Really proud."

Lydi sat at Sharon's kitchen table, temporarily situated in the living room. With Brian in town for a few errands, she was with her sitters, Patrice and Maggie. With Sharon occupied with the contractor and his crew, Patrice was seeing to Lydi's care, and Maggie, to her meals.

"It's looking really nice in here," she said. "I like the new color. It's light and fresh."

"Isn't it?" Patrice agreed. "I think we'll be spending a lot more time in front of the new windows, all that natural light."

"How are you and the lieutenant faring being out of your room?" asked Lydi. "It must be a terrible inconvenience."

"Oh yes," said Patrice. "A double room suite with a private bath. It's just awful. I can't believe they treat us this way," she feigned, chuckling. "We're just fine, I promise. We're far away from the pounding of the construction. The view of the lake is wonderful. If Louie snores too loud, I just slip through the bathroom into the connecting room and read for a while and he's none the wiser. It's perfect."

The younger woman giggled, which her companion found to be pure music after the recent troubling weeks. Her usual vibrant color had not yet returned, her skin still sallow. Renewed energy and sunlight would likely help, though she was currently short on both. The grey winter skies were little help.

"Do you really think they'll be finished in time for Christmas?" she asked them.

"Oh, yes ma'am, they will," Sharon announced as she marched through the room, reminiscent of the Commander. "December twentieth, they said. Libby and Connor arrive on the twenty-first. They'll be staying in the rear suite. You and Louie need to be back in your room," she directed to Patrice. "It must be done."

"So we can assume it will be," chuckled her mother, with no doubt. "Andy knew just what he was doing, leaving that one in charge."

"It's not a busy season for builders. The weather's cooperating. All the materials are available. We're doing some of the work ourselves. There's no reason not to finish by the agreed upon completion date. We have a contract. I expect it to be honored. Nothing more."

"That's my girl," Maggie said, raising her teacup in a toast of sorts. She joined them in the great room and passed Lydi a dish of iron-rich food, a lunch that would earn her surgeon's stamp of approval."

Lydi took noticed and offered the older woman a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Maggie. This is very thoughtful. It's just what the doctor ordered, quite literally," she laughed. And it was.

The plate was an assortment of items from the list provided by her physician, broiled chicken, broccoli, and a dish of colorful berries, all rich in iron, the perfect medicine for her recent anemia.

The ladies sat together, draped in a cozy quilt to ward off the constant chill bright about by the unsealed front wall. The fire in the hearth provided added warmth, as did the laughter of good friends. They talked of the upcoming holiday, the anticipated arrival of Libby and Connor, as well as the children and grandchildren. The house would be full for Christmas, just the way they liked it.

They avoided any discussion of Javi Torres, any ulterior motives for being in Big Bear, his underlying health issues and how they related to his visit, and how his presence was affecting Lydi. Keeping the afternoon as light and cheery as possible, they stuck to more pleasant topics, determined to keep those giggles coming.

When Melanie popped in for an unexpected visit, those topics turned to include all things wedding. Flowers, white anemone. Dresses, crimson. Cake, Patrice- almond for the bride and hazelnut for the groom. Honeymoon, yes. Everything was arranged.

Dinner that night was a somewhat muted affair. It was prepared by Patrice, but hosted by Brian and Lydi. The temperature was dropping and it was thought by all that it might be best if she not get out, but there were matters to discuss that shouldn't wait.

A pot of hearty stew and a cake of thick, crusty cornbread sat in the center of the table in the their small kitchen. Four couples gathered around. There wasn't much room to spare in the cozy, but tidy corner. One of Maggie's cheerful tablecloths adorned the table and dancing light emanated from the candles that dotted the surface. It was a warm, inviting scene all around.

Everyone tried to keep the mood light as their surroundings, but each could feel an obvious weight invading the space, none so much as Lydi. Her husband had returned from town drawn and burdened and had only asked that she allow him to put off sharing what was troubling him until he'd processed it further. That much she could do. That much she'd have needed herself, being much the same in that way.

Still, they enjoyed their meal, the comfort found in quiet conversation among trusted friends, the balance needed for the heaviness that seemed always to lurk in the corners of late.

As, one by one, they began to push back from the table, filled to the brim, Patrice stood and began to clear their plates. Sharon rose to join her, allowing her husband to take the lead in the coming discussion.

"Lydi," he began, his fingers circling his glass of tea. "Provenza and I went to see Mr. Torres today." He was careful to refrain from calling him her father. She had been adamant about that. From across the table, he could tell his friend also appreciated the gesture.

Lydi nodded. She figured as much. This dinner, the heaviness in the air, it could only mean Javi would be the topic of conversation. She wasn't angry. It had to happen at some point. They couldn't just ignore him until he went away.

"I kind of assumed you would," she said, smiling. "One of you, anyway."

"What they didn't expect to find," said her husband, "was me."

She didn't expect it either. Lydi turned to him, eyebrows raised.

"You? You went to see him?"

Brian covered her hand.

"Don't be angry, Lydi. I had some things to say to him, and some questions."

"I'm not mad, Brian," she reassured him, enfolding his fingers in her own. "How you love me is up to you. Some advice I received from your aunt and uncle," she said, smiling at Sharon and Andy. "So, did you learn anything from Javi?" she seemed to ask them all.

Andy, Brian, and Provenza all exchanged a resigned look as none particularly wished to share what they learned earlier in the day.

Provenza cleared his throat, having decided to take the lead, thereby momentarily shifting the load.

"Well first off, he's used his time at the Patton home very wisely. Conscientious fellow, I must say. He's been liberating them of their finest belongings for the past several days, loading up the Lexus and transporting his goods to Beaumont Gardens where he apparently has a regular buyer. It would also appear he then uses that new wad of cash to buy any of the number of illegal drugs found in the car when we searched it after taking him into custody."

There. He laid out the first layer of lousy news and let it settle over her.

They held their collective breath and watched as Lydi took it in. A series of emotions, like shadows, played across her face. Numbness, frustration, the familiar why, sadness, and acceptance.

"What else?" she asked, very matter of fact, earning a sad smile from her husband.

That was Lydi. Collected and mature beyond her youth.

Brian shifted his position on the bench so that he sat with one leg on either side, then wrapped his arms low around Lydi's waist, drawing her back against his chest.

Andy leaned forward, elbows resting against his knees.

"He doesn't have diabetes. That was a lie. It had nothing to do with why he crashed his car into our house. He didn't lose control while slipping into diabetic shock or whatever. The paperwork he signed allowed us a look at his records. He's being treated for hepatitis, which he told us, and liver failure. We also found among his things a bunch of paperwork from San Diego Memorial Hospital, Transplant Unit. There are brochures on familial living transplant."

Patrice paused at the edge of the table, leaning against her husband, her arm draped about his shoulder, his hand rising to cover hers. She had a role to play and this was it.

"That's where a part of the liver is removed from a living donor, in this case a relative, and is implanted into the recipient…"

"That's why he's here," said Lydi, her voice low and steady, knowing.

Brian tightened his arms around her and spoke softly in her ear. "Yes."

Sharon burrowed more deeply under the shelter of her husband's arm and he gladly obliged, pulling the blanket they shared more tightly around them both. They were further aided by the flames from the fire pit, burning low. Provenza and Patrice had slipped off to bed. Anne and Mark had bundled off and made the short walk home a few moments earlier. They had all helped Lydi and Brian to clear away dinner and had talked a while longer, the men sharing all they had managed to glean from their visit, before leaving them alone with their thoughts.

Now, Sharon and Andy were left to ponder their own.

"She didn't hesitate," said Andy. "Not for a minute," he said to no one in particular.

"No, she didn't," agreed his wife. "And it doesn't really surprise me."

Andy tugged her closer still, sighing, and kissed the top of her head.

Lydi hadn't batted an eye.

She rose from the table and padded toward the counter. Reaching for a tray of mugs, she began pouring coffee for her guests, eager for a moment away from their worried gazes. They were so dear for their care and concern, but she found the attention cloying.

When her hands began to shake, she lowered them to grip the counter's edge, allowing her head to droop.

"I don't want to see him or speak to him. Any man who can ignore his kid for more than a decade only to show up when he needs her liver is no one I want to know. He needs part of mine, he can have it, but that's where it ends. Set it up. I'll sign whatever is needed, but I'm not talking to him. I have a dad. His name is Mark James."

"Reminds me a little of you. You would do the same thing for your own dad, or any of the kids, or me, if we needed it."

Sharon sighed heavily, thinking. "I would."

"Selfless," he said, full of wonder.

She turned to face him, lifting her hands to frame his face, her thumbs tracing the rough skin of his cheeks.

"No," she corrected him. "Selfish, Andy. I simply can't live without you all. And you would do the same. You would."

He studied her, not one to simply put her off. He carefully considered her words, knowing she was right. He would never choose to be without her, without their children, without this life they'd created together.

"Huh."

"Honey, you married me when I was blind, with no way of knowing if I'd see again. You were looking at a future of taking care of me, a life far different from the one we had dreamed together. It may not have turned out that way, thank God, but you had no way of knowing that and still, you chose me. You would do the same again, sweetheart."

He reached up to encircle her wrists.

"I guess that what makes us such a great pair, huh?"

Bridging the small gap between them, she grinned. "You bet," she said, sealing it with a kiss.

"How are you feeling this morning?" he asked as he set a tray over her legs.

Lydi used her arms to push herself up so that she could prop herself against her pillows, smiling at his daily gesture. He'd taken to trying his hand at breakfast himself.

"I feel fine. Thank you. This looks good. Join me?"

He never could resist her big brown eyes, and this time was no different. Carefully, he joined her on the bed, climbing back under the covers and meeting her in the middle, much to her delight.

"This is Maggie's oatmeal. I followed the recipe very carefully. No experimenting, so it should taste okay. There is brown sugar, honey, and fresh fruit there on the side. You have some juice there and some cocoa."

Lydi tucked into her breakfast and hummed.

"Oh, this is good. You did well, babe. Maggie will be so proud. She spooned up another bite and offered it up to him. He accepted it, then smiled in surprise.

"Hey, I did okay!" he proudly exclaimed, then reached to pluck a strawberry from her dish.

"You did indeed," she chuckled. "We should look into a cooking class in the new year. That would be fun to do together."

"Maybe Mel and Drew would want to do it with us. That sounds fun. Drew in a kitchen," he laughed.

"It does. Let's look into it," she said as she continued to enjoy her meal.

"So, how are you, really?" he asked, reclining against the pillows, his fingers toying with the ends of her hair.

She shrugged her shoulders, resigned to the many events happening around her, many of which seemed out of her control.

"I'm feeling much better. I'm getting stronger every day. My appetite is improving. Energy too, although that seems to be taking longer. The other stuff, the business with Javi, that's just going to take as long as its going to take to process, I guess. It bothers me. It hurts. It's easy to say I've moved on and I have a new family, but it's not that simple. It hurts. His coming here opens things up again."

Brian massaged her scalp and let her talk, knowing she needed to unload.

"I want him to be well and if I can help with that, I'm happy to do it. I'd do that much for anyone. That doesn't mean I want a relationship with him. Does that make me a bad person?"

She turned to face him.

"Really. Does it? He hasn't wanted to know me since I was ten. Is it okay that I don't want to know him now? Is that okay?"

She searched his face for answers and found only a soft smile, and barely that.

"What?" she asked, somewhat frustrated.

He cupped the back of her head, drew her close and kissed her forehead, holding her there.

"You told me yesterday," he said against her, "that how I loved you was up to me, yes?"

She gave a faint nod, held as she was against him.

"I think, sweet Lydi, that how you choose to move forth with Javi is entirely up to you. If you want to get to know him, fine. If not, fine. If you want to talk to him, let him know how you feel about walking out on you, do it. If you want to let it lie and move on as you have thus far, do that. However you choose to handle it, I'm behind you. All I ask is that you let yourself heal. You've got to get well first, Lydi."

Together, they reclined against the pillows, their breakfast momentarily forgotten.

"That's fair," she agreed. "Thank you. I'm so mixed up. Part of me wishes he'd never showed up and a bigger part of me is ashamed to admit that. I've wondered about him for years, you know? Was he still alive? Did he ever think about me? Regret leaving me? Did he ever think about coming back and getting to know me? When he appeared at the back door that night, just for a split second, I thought he'd tracked me down, you know, because he'd been looking for me forever, like in the movies. That thought left just as soon as it had come. I knew that wasn't it."

"I think all of those feelings are completely natural. I can't even imagine. For what it's worth, I don't think you have to decide right away what to do. For once, he's not in a position to go anywhere. You've got some of the information you've wanted, though not all of it. Some of those answers, I'm afraid, will only do more harm than good. Let's just think on it, pray on it. When you know what you want to do, I think you'll have a peace about it."

She nodded, and settled more heavily against him.

"That's what I'm counting on."

The following Tuesday saw them at the Medical Center in San Bernardino, as Lydi had a follow up appointment with her doctor to check her surgical site and run a blood panel. This time, at least, they were in his office and not the hospital.

Dr. Ted Fischer shared office space with two other physicians in the practice Hematology Specialists of Southern California. The waiting area was open and inviting, decorated in varying shades of blue, cool and soothing. It was well lit, but not harsh, and the temperature was just right.

Lydi and Brian sat on a small loveseat facing Mark and Anne, who had joined them for the drive over, tempting them with the offer of a late lunch at a special spot they'd discovered on Lake Arrowhead. Brian was grateful, as with his wife's easily depleted energy resources, she'd likely doze all the way home. If her father drove, Brian would be able to sit in the back with Lydi and keep her comfortable.

They were called back to an exam room shortly after arriving. Lydi went through the drill, answering questions, sitting still while her vitals were taken and her blood drawn. When the doctor came in, he greeted them with a broad smile.

"Mr. and Mrs. Walsh, it's good to see you both in less precarious circumstances," he said. "Lydi, you're looking better. Your color is improving." His finger flicked across the tablet's screen as he looked at the notes left by the nurse. "Temp is good, bp too. We'll call you with the results of your labs this afternoon."

He set the tablet on the counter and grabbed a pair of gloves from the box in the corner. Slipping them on, he turned to them again.

"Let's take a look at your incisions, shall we? Just lie back there for me."

He examined each of the small points of entry from her surgery and pronounced them healing right on schedule. They discussed her diet and energy levels, her projected return to work and other activities, as well as another subject she had on her mind.

"How long would I have to wait if I were considering Living Donor Transplant?"

Dr. Fischer's eyes grew wide, then shot from Lydi to her husband.

"Excuse me? I don't understand. Are you considering living organ donation? If that is the case, Lydi, you're looking at several more weeks of recovery before we can even think about preparing for that. You're a fit and otherwise healthy young woman, but you've been through a rather serious health scare here recently and we're not quite through it yet. That is my priority."

"My biological father is in need of a liver transplant and, apparently, I'm his only option. For whatever reason, he doesn't qualify for a transplant through the donor registry. I have his doctor's contact information. As much as I don't want to be involved in his business, I keep finding myself learning more in order to help him," she said.

The doctor noticed she took no pleasure in discussing it and remembered there was quite the complicated story there. He drew the rolling stool near the bed and took a seat.

"Lydi, whatever you decide on that matter is your business. Your health is mine. So, with that in mind, I will tell you that the first order of business is getting you restored to full health. I will see you again after the new year. You'll stay on your post-operative meal plan until then. You can start with easy activity, walking a couple of times a day, to start building up your stamina. When I see you in January, we'll talk again. I wouldn't clear you for an elective surgery before then anyway. Okay?"

Lydi peered around him and smiled at Brian. "Okay."

"I don't want her putting herself at risk for that man," said Anne, blowing steam across her cup of tea as she watched their girl and her husband walked along the water.

"I don't either," said her husband.

"He doesn't deserve it."

"He doesn't."

"I mean, how many ways can the man hurt her, Mark? He's already left her once. As soon as he has what he came for, he'll be in the wind again. You know that, right?"

"I do."

"I just want her home, and happy, and healthy," she said, smiling at the sound of Lydi's laughter. She sounded so carefree, the music of youth.

"So do I."

Anne set the cup on the table and turned to face her husband, reaching for his hand.

"We're going to stay quiet and let her do it, aren't we?"

He drew her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her fingertips. "Yeah."

Thanksgiving was more sedate than in recent years, but those gathered were no less grateful.

The Flynns, Jameses, and Provenzas, along with Maggie, rose and gathered early to get things started. They were joined shortly by Brian and Lydi, then Melanie and Drew, Rusty and Ben. By midday, Nicole and Jeff and Rick and Holly had arrived with the grandchildren and their assembly was complete.

With the house in an unnatural state of disarray due to the damage to the front wall, they had done the best they could. The wall was up again, though not finished, so they were able to spread out a little. Maggie had worked her magic with decorated the space to perfection and the incomplete construction was hardly noticed at all.

The usual chatter and giggles of growing children and toddling babies filled the home with the melody of the holidays delighting them all. It was exactly what was needed.

With Lydi still recuperating from surgery, there were no elaborate plans for their week together. The weather was inviting, however, so they were content to enjoy the lawn and the fire pit. While life moved at a more leisurely pace on the lake, it moved at the same blistering pace in the city. With growing kids, Boy Scouts, ballet classes, school and church activities, Driver's Ed, work responsibilities, a few days off left the young parents dazed and befuddled. What to do with the time?

Rick and Jeff took the boys to Hope House to expend some energy. Sharon Rose and Sara stayed behind to enjoy pedicures and a tea party with the ladies. Nicole, Holly, and Melanie stuck close to Lydi, eager to look over the final arrangements for the upcoming wedding. Emily, who was spending Thanksgiving with her in-laws, would be caught up via FaceTime.

Everything was selected, ordered, fitted, and needed only to be picked up when the big day arrived. Melanie was quite organized. With her busy schedule, it was a must. Still, it was fun to gush over the details.

Sharon and Patrice took plenty of pictures of their girl time, determined to capture as many memories as possible. They'd done the same for each family wedding and each time it had been a favored keepsake.

It was a week filled with food, family, and friends-turned-family. It was the old teaching the young and the little ones keeping their elders young at heart. It was bliss. It was what they had come to look for in the cabin on the lake, and what they always found.

Then December was upon them. The tree was up. Carols played. Sharon's angels made their annual visit and, boy, were they needed.

It was as if with the turning of the calendar, the bitterness of winter settled around them. The temperature began to steadily drop and the wind moaned.

Construction continued but slowed, as the conditions were made more difficult. Fortunately, the project was nearing completion. With Andy and Mark helping out with finish work outdoors, and Sharon and Anne painting inside, they were determined to have the job done on time.

Brian was working from home as much as possible, scheduling his time in town when someone was available for Lydi. She could get around by herself now and handle simple tasks, but Brian preferred knowing someone was near in case of emergencies.

She was doing well, physically. Her bloodwork proved it. The transfusion of Mark's blood had given her own the boost of healthy cells it needed. The splenectomy had sealed off the bleed. The surgical sites were healing on schedule and though she was still a little tender and had to move slowly, she was making headway.

Emotionally, she was struggling a little. Javi was not denied a new liver due to the fragile state of his health, or his lack of insurance, of any of the other reasons he'd given to the assortment of people to whom he'd talked, but because of a six month rule. According to his physician, he could not be placed on the list to receive a donated organ without a mandatory six month sobriety period. A new organ would need a least that length of time to heal and the patient must have demonstrated the ability to abstain long enough for a successful recovery. Javi had been unable or unwilling to do that. Furthermore, the blood taken following his collision with the Flynn house showed a blood alcohol concentration nearly three times the legal limit in California. He was only alcohol free now because he was in custody.

It was another deception. Another manipulation. Another disappointment. It shouldn't surprise her and it should't hurt. But it did. More and more, she found herself wishing he'd never appeared at the backdoor. It had her twisted into knots.

"You know," said Drew, "My dad has always said that an addict's strength is his ability to manipulate, to make his loved ones feel sorry for him. That until he is ready to stop drinking and make the change, no one else will be able to get through to him. For some, that never happens."

Lydi sat across from him in the cozy living room of the home he shared with Melanie.

"But your dad did stop. Now, he's one of the best people I've ever known."

"He is, but he worked like hell to get here. For a long time, I didn't give him the time of day. I held on to so much anger and resentment. He worked so hard to make up for those tough years and I just didn't want to see it. Even when he couldn't be there, when he was struggling with alcohol, he was still there in what ever way he could. He still supported us financially, showed up for us at our games and recitals and watched us from the back so no one got pissed off. He put us through college, bought us our first cars."

"Then you look at the bent branches of my family tree," Rusty said with a quirk of his eyebrows. "We can write off my bio-dad. He didn't know about me, so we can't exactly blame him for his lack of presence during my childhood. But as soon as he found out, he hit me when he found out about how I'd survived on my own. So, Mom and Pop got him out of the picture ASAP. My biological mother has struggled with addiction almost for as long as I can remember. It's terribly complicated, the choice to invest in someone like that. Only you can make that choice, Lydi, and no one gets to judge that choice."

Lydi smiled and lowered her eyes. She sighed when she felt Brian's fingers threading through the strands of her hair. He'd learned early on that the secret to calming her lie in playing with her hair. No one before him had bothered to find out.

"Sharon said the same thing," she told them. "She said that only Brian and I get to define our family and only we decide who to let in. We create a sanctuary in which to shelter ourselves from the wolves of the world. It's up to us who we let in to that sanctuary."

"Smart woman, our Ma," said Drew, before thinking of his choice of words.

Rusty eyed him curiously, then nodded. "That, she is," he agreed, making nothing of his use of the label Ma.

"Did she say why she wanted to speak to us?" asked Sharon, slipping on her heavy coat. "Not that she needs a reason. She wants us to come, of course we'll be there. It's just so unlike her to call out of the blue and say Please come."

Nicole had telephoned the previous evening asking if she and the girls could drive over for the day. She wanted to talk with them both about something. The boys were in school and the girls were always up for a visit with their grandparents. She called again that morning, concerned that Sharon Rose had slight fever and had been up for most of the night. Could they please come to them?

"She didn't, no," said her husband, pouring hot coffee into a pair of travel mugs, capping them, and passing them off to his wife before donning his own coat. "I'm sure everything is okay, sweetheart. She sounded serious, but not frantic. Let's just get on the road. We'll find out soon enough and figure out how we can help."

Sharon smiled at him over the countertop. That was her guy. Nodding, she tucked both mugs into a carrier already packed with other items for the drive.

"I'll just go check on Mom and let her know we're on the way out," she said.

"And I'll go warm up the car."

When she joined him moments later, the SUV was toasty and ready for her. She climbed in beside him and buckled in as he settled a blanket across her lap, making her smile broaden.

"Thank you, honey."

He pulled out onto the road that would take them to the highway toward the city. His wife unpacked her bag, setting his coffee within easy reach and removing the top of a container of an easy to eat breakfast for two.

"Hopefully the weather will be on our side. The wind has been a beast the last few days. It would be nice if it calmed down today while we're on the road. The older I get, the less comfortable I am driving in nasty weather," he admitted.

"I'm the same way, I'm afraid. Here," she said. "Hungry?"

"What did you make? When did you have time to make anything?" he asked, taking a piece from the container.

"They're little egg bites, with bits of cheese and onions and spices. I thought it would be easy to eat while driving. I mixed them up last night and baked them this morning."

"They're good," he said. "Really good. Louie would like them filled with sausage."

"So would I, but you wouldn't," she said, popping one in her mouth and humming at the taste.

"Thank you," he said, smiling at her thoughtfulness.

"You're welcome. Thank you for heating up the car. I'd have been freezing."

"I know," he said, grabbing another egg bite, and winking at his wife.

They continued to flirt and make small talk all the way into the city, which made the time fly. The weather cooperated, as did the traffic, until they reached the interstate, but it wasn't awful. Most of the morning's commuters had already arrived at their destination, making thinks bearable.

By the time they arrived at Nicole's, she had gotten her boys to school, made a dash to the walk-in clinic and the pharmacy, and gotten the little ones settled back at home. She was on the phone when she opened the door. Giving them a tired smile, she waved them inside, closed the door and gestured toward the den where they would find the girls, before slipping into the kitchen.

Andy and Sharon found the girls sitting in a gated area of the room, playing with books and large plastic building blocks. They sat down with them and visited while their mom finished up her phone conversation.

"Yeah, just an ear infection, both ears. So she'll be particularly pleasant for a couple of days," she said sarcastically, then chuckled. "Poor thing. She just tugged at her little ears all night and kept clinging to me, whining for hours. We've only been home a few minutes. My folks just got here. I'm going to give her some medicine and see if I can get them both down for a nap. Fingers crossed. I will. Yes. Love you too. Bye."

Joining them in the den, she smiled at the sight of them sitting in the play yard with their granddaughters.

"That was Jeff, checking on Sharon Rose. Double ear infection. So, not serious, but miserable."

She carried a plastic syringe filled with an antibiotic for her little girl.

Sharon knew what was coming and scooped her the child, snuggling her in her lap. In seconds, she had her distracted, even laughing. While she was chatting with her grandma, her mother shot the liquid into her mouth and gave her a cup of juice to wash it down.

"Nicely done, ladies," said Andy. "You two have the mom thing down."

"Years of practice," said his wife. "With medicine, you must distract, then act quickly. Extra hands are a plus," she said, winking at Nicole.

"Yes," she agreed. "Thank you," she added, taking the syringe back to the kitchen to wash.

Within half and hour, Sharon and Andy each had a sleeping girl in their arms, and gently carried them to their beds before returning to find Nicole sitting in the den, a trio of mugs on the coffee table.

"Tea," she said, gesturing to the cups. "I figured you've already had your fill of coffee on the drive over. Thank you again for coming to me. I'm sorry for the short notice. The girls were excited to see you. I hope you can at least stay long enough to see them when they wake up."

"Of course, sweetheart," said Sharon. "Now, what's up?"

Nicole reached for a cup of tea, took a careful sip, then cradled the cup in her hands, more for something to do.

"Come on, kiddo. Is something wrong? We can't help you if we don't know what it is," said her father.

"It's not me. It's Drew," she finally said. At his widened eyes, she quickly assured him. "He's not sick or anything. He's not hurt. He and Mel are fine. It's nothing like that."

Andy visibly relaxed. Then what was wrong, he wondered.

"Mom's not coming back for the wedding."

Louie Provenza sat on the back porch, his best friend's young nephew at his side. The old warhorse had just shared his conversation with the sheriff with Brian and together, they discussed the best way to disclose the information to Lydi.

Javi Torres had been transferred from the jail back to the hospital. His pallor was off, his skin yellow. His abdomen was distended, his legs swollen. He was confused. The triage physician was telling them end stage liver failure. If she was giving any thought at all to seeing him, talking with him, she needed to do it now.

"I'm going to go get her. We'll tell her what you told me. Let her tell us what she wants to do."

"Just like that?" asked Provenza.

"Just like that," said Brian. "Look, I told her it's up to her and it is. The timeline has been moved up and we can't do anything about that. It's still her decision and, unfortunately, she's going to have to make it sooner rather than later. But I can't wait to tell her just because it's going to be uncomfortable. We have to do hard things for the ones we love. Especially for them. That's why they're hard."

As he strode with purpose across the lawn, making his way toward his own house, Louie eyed him with a strange sense of awe. This young man, not quite twenty-two, with the tongue of a poet and the soul of wiseman, was beyond his understanding in so many ways. He dove into waves when others stood, gaping and afraid, on the safety of the shore.

Louie sat where he was for a good ten minutes, lost in his thoughts, until he was pulled from them by the soft voices approaching him on the lawn. Looking up, he saw the young couple, bundled against the cold, coming closer, hand in hand.

"We're headed to the hospital," said Brian. "Would you like to join us?"

The young man seemed hopeful that he would, and so he nodded. With Sharon and Andy gone for the day, he thought it the right thing to do. He would let them know on the way. They stepped into the house to let Maggie and Patrice know they were headed out. Lydi quickly called her parents, thinking they were likely to follow soon after. Then, they were off.

"I don't understand what's she's thinking, Sharon. I get that I'm not one to really talk."

He paused and shook his head when she shot him the look, the one that said Enough. If there was anything his wife tolerated less than the way Sandra used to talk down about Andy it was when he did it himself. It was almost like some sort of penance he continually heaped upon himself, though far less often these days. Shaking if off, he continued.

"I wasn't there for them when they were growing up. Sandra was. She was a terrific mom. But what the hell's happened? This is like something like out a movie of the week."

Sharon couldn't disagree. He wasn't wrong. Sandra was very involved when the kids were young. Like Sharon, she'd had to be. She had no quarrel with that. Her only issue was her treatment of Andy. No matter how hard he worked, how hard he tried, it was never enough. She didn't agree with that. They had finally found a balance in the time Sharon and Andy had been together. The two women got along well enough and even Andy had made his peace with her.

She'd been a little distant in the last year or two, however. The fighting hadn't returned. Sandra had just become very inwardly focused. She and her husband had a new circle and seemed to isolate themselves from many others. Even Nicole had noticed it. Her mother hadn't approved of her marriage to Jeff, hadn't taken well to step grandchildren, thought she would brag to anyone who would listen about her granddaughters. Then she and her husband had received a modest inheritance and taken a cruise around the world. Having fallen in love with Europe, they'd upped and relocated. Out of nowhere. They knew no one there. They didn't speak the language. Had no means of employment. No one could understand it, least of all her children, who were left speechless and not a little hurt. Those granddaughters she was so very proud of, she'd only seen in pictures. She'd never met them at all. Now, she wouldn't be attending her own son's wedding. It defied explanation.

"What is it with our children's parents?" Sharon asked. "Why is it that they people who are meant to love them seem so intent on hurting them?"

"I don't understand how she can do that to the kids. It's his wedding day. He's waited years to find the right girl and I'm so proud of that. Both kids made such good choices there. This is really important to him. And to Nic, too. She's really missed her Mom. She hasn't seen her in a really long time. Jeff's even been talking about surprising her with a trip to see her now that the girls are little older. He asked if we'd be okay with keeping them for a couple of weeks so they could go. But if Sandra can't be bothered to come home to see her son get married, I'm not sure it's worth taking Nic over there, you know?"

"I do. I don't know that it would be the magical reunion he's hoping for. Oh, Andy. This is just awful. I feel horrible for the kids. What can we do? We can't fix this."

He hit the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. She was right. They couldn't.

When his cell buzzed in the cupholder, he pushed the receiver button on the dash to answer.

"Yeah, Flynn."

"Hey, Flynn. It's me."

"Hey, Me. What's up. We're headed back. Everything okay?"

"Well, sorta. Everything's fine at the house. The crew is there, doing their thing, as usual. But the sheriff called about an hour ago and said Torres took a turn for the worse and was transferred back to the hospital. It's not looking good, so I brought the kids over. Lydi's in with him now. Mark and Anne are here too."

"Aw, hell. Just keeps getting worse, doesn't it? Okay, we'll head that way. Listen, thanks for looking out for the kids for me, hear?"

"What else would I do? You two be safe. The wind's picking up out there. We'll see you in a bit."

"Yeah. Will do."

He looked briefly at his wife. "Damn."

He looked different from the last time she saw him, which was far different from the time before that. That time he was far younger, leaner, more muscled. His hair was dark, like coffee, like hers. His eyes danced when he laughed with her, then looked away when he left her behind.

When he arrived at their doorstep, he was older. His cheeks were sunken in, his body ravaged by age, disease, addiction, choices. Those eyes no longer danced with charm.

Now, he was further altered, his skin stretched and yellowed with jaundice. His lips were dry and chapped, his stomach puffed and swollen beneath a thin sheet. Lines and tubes provided him with a modicum of relief, keeping the worst of the pain at bay, allowing him to rest for a time. Palliative care, they called it.

A nurse popped in every twenty minutes or so and Lydi was reminded of why she got so little rest in the hospital. Still, she smiled weakly and nodded each time. She felt Brian's eyes on her constantly, his hand moving endlessly between her back and the ends of her hair. He said nothing, as nothing would suffice. His presence, though, was a constant comfort.

A soft knock sounded on the door and Sheriff Goddard stepped into the room.

"Lydi? You okay in here? The lieutenant told me I'd find you back here."

"Yes, sir. I'm fine," she said. "Thank you for updating us. I appreciate it, under the circumstances."

"I thought you needed facts, Lydi, in case you wanted to come," he said. "I also wanted to bring you this," he added, pulling a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and offering it to her. "Because you deserve all the facts."

He then slipped silently from the room.

Lydi stared at the wrinkled paper in her hands, just a sheet from a yellow legal pad, folded several times and likely shoved into a pocket. Her named was scribbled across the top.

"What is it?" asked her husband.

"A note," was her shaking reply.

She turned and walked back toward him, stopping just before him. Looking down at him, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

He reached for her and rested a hand against her hip and, as one, they slid easily into an embrace. He then drew her into his lap and held her against him and let her simply be.

"Will you read it to me?" asked, suddenly the little girl left behind.

"I will," he said, settling her securely in his lap and unfolding the note. Holding up to catch the din light in the room, he studied the handwriting for a moment, then looked at Lydi.

"Ready?"

Tucking her head into the curve of his neck, she closed her eyes and merely hummed.

He paused and sent up a silent prayer that whatever the man had to say would help more than it would hurt, then began to read aloud in a soft, but steady voice.

"Dear Lydia,
Finding you on the Flynns' doorstep took me by surprise. Even though I came here to find you, seeing you wasn't what I expected. You've grown into such a beautiful young woman. So different, and yet very much the same.
I came here because I'm dying and need your help. I need part of your liver in order to live. Now that I'm here, I think it's too late for that. I can't be sure. But just in case it is, I want you to know that I've thought of you so much over the years. I'm pretty sure you won't believe that and I get it. But it's the truth and it's the reason I've never been able to stop drinking. Don't take that to mean that I blame you. No, I blame myself. I started drinking to forget how much I missed your mother and I kept drinking to forget how much I missed you. I know it's a horrible excuse, but it's all I've got. I never got over losing either of you. I was never any good without you girls, so I became no good at all. What you have now is what you deserve.
I asked the sheriff to give this to you so you would know that while I came to find you and get something I needed from you, now I just want to die. I want it to be over. I can't stop drinking and I can't stop forgetting. And I can't take anything else from you either.
I'm really glad to find you so happy, with a family who loves you, who you can depend on like you should have been able to depend on me.
Javi

That's all."

Brian looked up and studied the man who must look quite different than the man his wife remembered. Curled against him was that little girl, now the young woman who was such a part of him he sometimes didn't know where he ended and she began.

She was very still. There was no shaking. There were no tears. Perhaps she'd shed them all years ago, he thought. Still, maybe he'd hold onto her extra tight, just in case.

Drawing the cell from his pocket, he keyed a quick text to Mark, then set the phone aside. Gathering her close, he held her like a child. He felt maybe it had been too long.

Sharon and Andy arrived at the Medical Center a short time later and found only Provenza sitting in the waiting area, nursing a cutoff coffee.

"Hey," Andy greeted him, voice tired and soft. "Where is everybody?"

Sharon rounded the vinyl sofa and sat on the lieutenant's other side.

"The kids have been back with Torres since we arrived. Mark and Anne joined them a bit ago when Brian asked them to. I imagine he thought Lydi could use the support. It doesn't look as if he has much time. Apparently, he figured that out several days ago, refused to come here until now. I don't know," said Provenza. "Maybe he finally decided to spare the kid the decision to try and save him. Finally do the decent thing."

"Sure doesn't make it much easier," said Andy. "Poor kid."

He stood behind his wife, his hands on her shoulders and took a deep breath. The things we do to our kids, rethought to himself. Drawing his phone from his pocket, he keyed off a quick text to his nephew. We're in the waiting room. Whatever you need. Then he took a seat beside Sharon and settled in to wait.

An hour or so later, the foursome stepped into the waiting area, looking bone weary and worn. Andy, Sharon, and Provenza stood to greet them, a myriad of questions on their faces.

"The doctor is in with him," said Mark. "We were asked to step out. They need to change his bedding, empty and change out this and that. They needed the room. Lydi needed the break," he added softly, out of his daughter's earshot.

"Come, have a seat, sweetheart. You must be exhausted and that's no good," said Sharon. "Drew and Mel are on their way and they're bringing you something light to eat."

She saw her gearing up to protest, and gave her a look that stopped her before she got started.

"What are they saying, Brian?" asked his uncle, taking the attention off of the young woman.

"Uh," he said, taking a deep breath. "They're just keeping him comfortable at this point. I don't think they expect him to make it through the night. Tomorrow at the latest. From what Sheriff Goddard said, he'd refused to come in before now. He seems to think that was on purpose. Like he's ready for it to all be over. He left Lydi a note saying as much."

He shook his head, then lowered it, for once at a loss for words. He just didn't know how else to help the person he loved most in the world.

"You already are, more than you know," she said.

He looked at her, eyes wide. Had he said that out loud, or had she just known his worry?

"Anyway," said Anne. "We have a half hour at least. They had quite a bit to do. She's determined to stay and see it through, so she'll need a break now and then."

She shared a look with her husband. Their girl had made up her mind and they would support her. No one deserves to die alone, she'd said. He's spent the last decade alone. That's enough. She was certainly something, that girl.

Just then, Melanie and Drew arrived, a tray of sandwiches and a second of coffee in hand. They walked straight to the low-set coffee table and set everything down before greeting them.

Coffee was sipped and sandwiches picked at as they were brought up to speed. Melanie correctly predicted that her friend wouldn't have much appetite. She also knew how important it was that she eat to keep her recovery on track. Thus, in addition to the sandwiches, she brought one of Patrice's smoothies. They'd popped into the house to grab a few things for Lydi and Brian, figuring they might stay at the hospital for a while, and brought along something from the kitchen to tempt her.

They sat talking quietly, Lydi sipping from her cup, waiting. For what, well, that didn't bear thinking.

"Mrs. Walsh?"

As one, the group turned toward the nurse standing before the pair of doors separating the waiting area from the hallway.

"You can go back in now."

They breathed a collective sigh. Lydi, Brian, Mark, and Anne stood and joined her, all of them disappearing behind the doors.

Midmorning the following day, Sharon and Andy shuffled in on heavy feet. They shed their heavy coats and removed their boots, leaving it all by the back door. They padded their way through the room into the kitchen, drawn by the aroma of Maggie's cooking. There, they found her, along with Provenza and Patrice.

Sharon went straight into the arms of her mother, still one of the safest places she knew.

"Mom," she hummed.

"Sweet girl. You've had a long day and an even longer night. I thought something light on your stomach before you lay down for a bit. Then, we'll talk more?"

"Mother knows best," she chuckled sadly. "Thank you."

She took a seat at the table, where she was quickly handed a cup of steaming tea and a dish of scrambled eggs.

She and Andy tucked in quietly, obviously hungry, but much too weary for anything else. They were all aware of how things had turned out. Talking was unnecessary. There was time.

"The kids went home to sleep for a while," said Andy. "We asked them to come for dinner this evening. Anne and Mark will be here. Drew and Mel too. Rusty has a thing at Hope House, but he'll be by later to visit with Lydi."

He finished his eggs and pushed back from the table, exhausted. He fished the small vial of pills from his pocket that he always kept there. It was a habit held over from his days on the job. He never knew what his schedule would be, so he always had them with him.

Removing the one he needed, he quickly took it with another sip of his tea, then stood and grabbed both dish and cup, taking them to the sink.

"I've got them, son," said Maggie. "Go to bed, the both of you. We'll talk more later."

He kissed her cheek in response and turned to wait for his wife, who was approaching with her own dishes. When her mother intercepted her, she smiled her thanks, and followed her husband down the hall to their room.

They made quick work of shedding their clothes, climbed into the shower and did little more than stand there for a time. Then, they slowly cleansed one another of the previous several hours and all the heaviness they had brought them. Then, in nothing more than their towels, they walked to their bed and crawled in. In minutes, they were asleep.

He was asleep, peaceful and still, much more so than in previous hours. They had given him something stronger this time. His breathing was shallow, but even. His hand was cold. He looked awful. She found she didn't want to look at him, but couldn't look away. For years, she'd longed to lay eyes on him. Now there was so little time.

She held his hand between hers. It was much larger, but looked very similar. The fingers were long and tapered, like hers. Slender, like hers. His nails were fair against bronzed skin, like hers. She spent what felt like hours staring at their hands. The last time his hands had held hers had been over ten years ago. He'd held her hand when crossing the street, walking down the sidewalk, across a parking lot, all to keep her safe. So she'd have no fear. Now she held his.

Brian stood at her back, always at her back. Her parents sat nearby, always nearby. Those who loved her were never far away. Now, they held her.

Sometime after the morning shift took over, Mark and Anne awoke and slipped out for a cup of coffee. Brian stood and stepped in the bathroom for a quick moment.

Lydi remained rooted to the same spot she maintained throughout the night. When Brian returned to her side, he laid his hands atop her shoulders and massaged them, working at the knots that had settled in over the long hours.

She leaned back against him and sighed.

Javi's breathing began to quicken for a moment. Lydi and Brian watched him closely. Just as suddenly, his breathing slowed again. He then exhaled, long and slow, almost like a sigh. He was gone.

Brian gathered her closer, spooning her arm behind.

"I can practically hear you thinking. Can't sleep?"

He ran his hand along her side, down her hip to knee and up again.

She sighed. "No. I'm sorry. I don't mean to keep you up."

"Not at all. You want to talk or we can just be. What do you need, Love?"

She gathered his arms more snuggly around her and took a deep breath."This."

They gathered for dinner later that day after everyone had enjoyed a few quiet hours to themselves. Maggie and Patrice had prepared a large pot of a hearty stew with loaves of thick, crusty bread and a leafy green salad. There was gingerbread for dessert and cocoa to warm them through.

The house repairs were nearly complete, much to Sharon's great relief as Christmas grew near. So did the arrival of Andy's family and Drew's wedding. There was much to look forward to and, fortunately, much to uplift them all. It kept their conversation light as they visited in the great room waiting to eat.

That was where Brian and a very pale, exhausted Lydi found them all upon arrival a short time later.

"Hey, darlings, come in. Join us," said Sharon. "We were just getting ready to sit down to dinner."

Anne rose and went to her daughter, breathing a grateful sigh when Lydi walked right into her arms.

"You didn't rest much, did you?" she commented in her ear.

"I couldn't sleep, but I did lie down with Brian. It was the best I could do. I'm sure I'll sleep tonight. I'm beat. My side's hurting from sitting up all night, so I'll probably take a pain pill, and they always knock me out."

Anne made a mental note to ask Patrice to check Lydi's incisions before she left that night.

"Okay," she said before letting her go. "Please try and eat something. For me."

Lydi nodded and followed them all to the table.

They kept the conversation soft, geared toward the goings on at Hope House, something they knew would cheer Lydi's heart. The Home for Christmas campaign conceived by Lydi the year before was again underway. The children of Hope House would be hosted by the families of the community, thereby experiencing the holiday as part of a real family, rather than viewing it through the window. She had been helping from home, finding placements for the children and corresponding with their host families. A sense of purpose was important, now more than ever.

After dinner, they returned to the great room to enjoy their gingerbread in front of the fire. Lydi was a fan of gingerbread, a fact Patrice was well acquainted with when she made it. She hoped the girl would eat that, even if she chose to forego her supper. Fortunately, she was hungry that evening, having not eaten much the previous day.

A knock at the back door was unexpected. Rusty would just walk in. Andy opened the door to find the sheriff, who offered a warm, if sad smile, and a handshake. When invited in, he gladly stepped in from the cold.

Leaving his heavy coat by the back door, he followed Andy into the den where he found the others enjoying their dessert.

"Sheriff," said Maggie. "Come, join us. Let me get you some cocoa."

She rose and padded her way slowly into the kitchen before he could respond. Hospitality was her love language, her quiet way of helping.

The sheriff joined the family, taking a seat in front of the fire.

"How are you Lydi? Hanging in there?"

She looked beat, sitting there with her attentive husband. Such a young thing, she was, and such and old soul. She'd been through an awful lot over the past few weeks.

"Holding up, Sheriff. Thank you. I appreciate your help this morning. I was a little lost," she admitted.

She'd been asked for information, most of which she didn't have. She could fill in only so many blanks. Others were a complete mystery to her. She knew her parents' names and not much more. They'd both been gone by the time Lydi was ten. Sheriff Goddard had reached out to Javi's doctor in San Diego, who had quite a bit more information, which helped them fill out the staggering amount of paperwork involved when someone dies. As unreal as it seemed, Lydi was Javi's nest of kin, and therefore responsible for the disposition of his remains. She knew nothing of his wishes, of course. She didn't know him at all. Having read and reread his note to her, she made decisions based on the man she imagined he wished to become, the kind of man he wanted to be. With the help of those around her, that is what she'd done.

"Mr. Torres had nothing on him at the hospital, of course, as he was in custody when he was transferred, but in cataloging the contents of the car he was found in, we did find a duffle that contained his personal belongings rather than those he had removed from the Patton home. I received clearance to bring those here to you, as they had nothing to do with the case. I don't know if you have any desire for them, but there are a couple of things that may have some sentimental value to you, so I brought them by. I put those in a small box on top. Look through it when you're ready, Lydi."

Maggie returned to the room, with a cup of cocoa and a plate of gingerbread for their guest.

He stayed with them a little while longer, talking about the nearly completed work on the house. Everything was comng together, just as promised, and everyone was quite please. Andy's family would soon be joining them and Christmas was approaching. Lydi's health was improving. Despite this latest sad setback, there was much to look forward to, and much to celebrate.

No one asked what was in the bag he'd left for Lydi, when or if she'd go through it. They rather expected she would, eventually, when she felt ready. There was no rush. Instead, they offered the quiet comfort of soft carols, glowing candles, a cheerful Christmas tree and a house full of love.

December nineteenth. It was a bitterly cold day, by California standards, at least. The house was cozy and warm, however. That was because the wall was sealed up tight. Yes, the repairs were complete, ahead of schedule. A very satisfied Sharon stood in the front bedroom, arms folded across her chest, beaming in satisfaction.

Two of the walls were painted white and stood in striking contrast to the third, which boasted rich maple paneling. The fourth was home to a pair of French doors opening to a private patio. The entire space was filled with brilliant natural light from outdoors. It was also much larger, thanks to the additional space now afforded it from the room next door. The shared wall had been knocked out, creating a large suite, including an enlarged bathroom and sitting room. Now, the Provenzas would enjoy much more than just a bedroom in someone else's home. They were, after all, making their life there.

"Sharon, this is just beautiful. I can't wait for them to see it. You really outdid yourself. You could have had a career in design, you know."

Andy stood behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders. He really was amazed. His wife had quite the eye for such things. Their own room was evidence enough, as was the condo she'd left behind in LA. Their friends were going to love it.

"They should be back from town any time now. Even Provenza can only buy so much beer, and Patrice was intending to spend the day cleaning the rear suite for Libby and Connor before she got resettled back in here. She has no idea we've done anything more than keep them away from the noise and dust of the contractors all this time. I told her we had to make sure there was no structural damage from the wreck," she chuckled.

"Crafty," Andy said, kissing the back of her head.

"Ooh," she practically squealed as she turned in his arms. "I'm so excited for them to see it. Then, Libby is coming, and the kids and the grandchildren. Then, we'll have a wedding."

Her smile faltered for a moment.

"I hope it's enough," she said, thinking of Lydi and Drew. To make up for what they're missing, went without saying. To make up for the loss of a father gone too long, a mother suddenly absent and uncaring.

"We'll make it special. We always do. There's something special about this place that has a way of healing us all. It will this time, too."

They were pulled from their heavy thoughts by the bellowing of their housemate.

"They're home!" said Sharon, cheerful again. "In here!" she called to them, waiting for them to follow the sound of her voice, which they did.

"It'll be nice to be back in our roo..oh my," said Patrice. "Sharon."

She paused in the doorway and her eyes wandered the room. She was speechless. Her husband stopped short behind her, fumbling for words himself.

"Merry Christmas," Sharon said, suddenly a bit choked up. These were her closest friends, a fact she never would have predicted of her surly lieutenant some years ago. Now, she couldn't imagine their life on the lake without either of them. They were family.

"While we were repairing the house, we made some upgrades," explained Andy. "One of those was giving you more than just a room in the house. You needed space to spread out. Take a look. Sharon did a fabulous job."

"I hope you like it," Sharon added. "When we were looking at decorating for Brian and Lydi, I paid attention to what you liked and went from there."

Patrice and Provenza walked about the space, taking it all in, each in a state of disbelief. It was completely transformed. Their simple bedroom was now more of an apartment. There was a small living room, a large ensuite with a double vanity, separate tub and shower, walk-in closet, and beautiful French doors. Patrice peered through the curtained doorway and gasped.

"Louie, look," she said, her voice almost breathless as she opened the doors and stepped outside.

He followed her, despite the cold.

Louie Provenza did not like change. He did not easily adapt. It was part of the reason he resisted retirement for so long. He simply could not imagine not doing as he'd done for more than three decades. Moving to the lake had been a very fortuitous choice. It had been life changing, he could now admit. He was happier now than he had ever been. This, though, this was… well, it was indescribable is what it was.

He turned and studied the pair standing in the middle of the room, the two who had opened their home to them, invited them to share it, make their own. Sharon and Andy had made it clear that they were not guests. No, Louie and his wife were there to share their home, share these years together. Who saw that coming? He figured he and Flynn would be hanging out, a couple of bachelors molding away as the years slowly faded. Not this. These truly were the best years. Golden years.

"You okay there, old man?" Andy asked him. "I think we've rendered him speechless," he told his wife.

Louie merely shook his head, unable as yet to form words. He then expressed himself in the only way he was currently capable. He approached his dearest friend and extended his hand.

Andy dropped the jokes at that point. His friend was truly moved. He accepted his hand, then pulled him into a tight embrace, clapping him on the back. He released him just as quickly, lest it become awkward. Then, he gave him a tour.

Sharon did much the same for Patrice, who was much more effusive with her friend. She loved everything about it, from the layout to the new furnishings to the flooring and window treatments. Her favorite part, however, was the private patio. She did so love the outdoors. Mornings enjoying her coffee on the back porch became a favorite early on and now she had a spot all to herself. There was a small table and a pair of chairs, a chiminea for keeping warm, and a host of pots for planting. She could hardly wait to get out there and enjoy it.

She spent the afternoon settling in and Sharon took over preparing the suite at the back of the house for Andy's sister and her husband. With the boys' bunkbeds taken apart and moved down the road, the second room had been redone. There was now a love seat and rocker, along with a shelf of books. Family photos decorated the walls, many from Andy's side. Everything was coming together for a very busy holiday, meets wedding, meets family reunion. There was a lot going on, just the way she liked it.

She waited eagerly at the window, eyes glued to the road out front when she might have been enjoying the new enclosed porch. Another new addition to the home was a glass enclosed front where the steps and porch used to be. A new set of stairs led to a front door, opening to a large room, glass on three side, where guests could doff their coats and boots in winter, or simply sit and rock in more temperate weather. There were chairs for sitting and visiting and fans overhead. It was lovely. A second pair of doors, tall and stately, opened into the foyer of the home, leading to the kitchen and dining area on the left, reading nook, currently occupied by the large Christmas tree, on the right. Straight ahead was the great room. Much the same, Andy said, just new and improved. They loved it.

Having bought the cabin as is years ago, they'd made steady improvements as needed to accommodate their large and growing family. This, they'd done, partially due to the accident, but also because it had provided the opportunity to take on a larger project. The end result was stunning and they couldn't be more pleased.

Finally, a car came into view, and Sharon began to literally bounce in place, such was her excitement.

"Oh! Andy, they're here!"

She grabbed her heavy coat off of the rack and stuffed her thickly socked feet into her winter boots. Before the car had even parked, Sharon had dashed out into the yard. Andy was pulling own boots on, hopping from one foot to the other, laughing at his wife's enthusiasm. Grabbing his own coat, he stuffed his arms into the sleeves as he slipped outside after her.

"Libby!" cried Sharon, opening the passenger door for her.

Andy's sister climbed from the car and into a pair of waiting arms. The two women shared a warm embrace, kindred spirits from the very start. Sharon beamed at Connor over her shoulder.

"Come inside. It's cold out here," Sharon told them both.

They turned to do just that. It was then that Libby took notice of the fresh look to the house.

"Oh, Sharon. This is really something. You certainly made lemonade, didn't you?" she said of their determination to make the best of the damage to their home.

"Do you really like it? We're positively thrilled."

"Come here, Andrew," said Libby. "It's been too long, you."

The two shared a long, warm embrace. Very close since their childhood, the years apart since Andy's move across the country had done little to change that.

Sharon then took Libby by the hand and led her up the stairs and into the house. Andy then helped his brother in law unload the car.

They came together inside the house, set their belongings on the floor, and warmed themselves in front of the fire. The others were waiting to greet them with hugs and handshakes all around. A hot meal and steaming coffee were laid out on the table. Maggie played hostess with all the aplomb of a southern belle.

Soon they were joined by Brian and Lydi, the former thrilled to see his grandparents and they, relieved beyond words to see them both.

Libby held her boy close, and then his wife, before cradling Lydi's face in her hands and studying her face.

"Oh, dear girl. What a time you've had."

Then, she drew her close and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Lydi was then taken over.

"Tell me how you've been. Are you feeling better? Has my boy been taking care of you? Oh, and all of this latest trial. I am so sorry, sweet girl. No matter what, it must be difficult. Come, talk with me."

They sat together while the others smiled at the interaction.

"I'm feeling better, thank you. Brian has been just wonderful. He's barely left my side. The rest of it, well, it is what it is, as they say. It was completely unexpected, but it happened. It's a lot to process, but it's always been a lot to process. Only now, I'm forced to. Maybe something good can come of it. We'll see. How are you? It's good to see you both. Brian has been so excited since we heard you were coming."

"Oh, we're just delighted to be here…"

"Just look at them," said Patrice. "What a fit. Lydi has needed family around her for so long and now it just gets bigger and bigger."

"I think Libby has connected so easily to her as well because she's missed that relationship too. Bridget has really distanced herself from the family these last few years," said Andy. "Libby misses her granddaughter. Lydi fills that ache, I think. They're made for each other."

They enjoyed a hearty meal, filled with lively conversation, the latest news from each coast and plans for Drew and Melanie's nuptials. Retiring again to the family room, they talked long into the evening before giving in to their fatigue.

Sharon and Andy showed them to their room and helped them to settle in while Patrice and Provenza saw to the kitchen. Maggie bid them goodnight, as did Lydi and Brian. There would be plenty of time to visit the following day.

Two days later, the rest of the family had arrived. Nicole and Jeff, along with their children, had tucked their things away at Melanie and Drew's, then made their way to their folks' place, eager to see the changes. Emily and Greg, with little Andrew, were bunking with Lydi and Brian. Holly and Rick, with little Willa and baby James, were staying with Mark and Anne. Somehow, they had made room for everyone. Once Rusty, Ben, and the boys arrived, they had a house filled to the brim.

They raved over the upgrades to the house, the young people gathering on the enclosed porch up front. The younger ones emptied the pieces to a game out across the coffee table and their elders camped out all around them, eager to delight in their childlike enthusiasm. They allowed Brian and the cousins to take Lydi in hand, trusting them to look after her spirits.

"So, Mel, tomorrow's the big day," said Emily. "Are you so ready?"

She curled against her husband, a cup of hot cider in hand. Sitting among folks her own age, her young son well looked after, was a rare treat.

"I am. So excited. I just hope the winds dies down so we don't all blow away."

"Well, if need be, Dad has that huge white party tent. We can all squeeze inside if the wind is too much," said Drew. "Or even just move it inside. The living room is big enough for the family. No matter what happens, it'll be perfect."

He pulled his bride close and kissed her temple. "I promise."

"I'm not worried," she assured him. "It'll all work out. You're here. Our family is here."

"Our nails are done. The cake is made. Flowers are in the fridge. The dresses are hanging in the closet. Suits too. Patrice has the menu well in hand and I promise you, she's a whiz in the kitchen. All the boxes are checked. It will be beautiful."

Melanie extended a hand toward Lydi, covering the younger woman's hand with her own.

"You good? You up to all this wedding business?"

Lydi smiled and gave her hand a squeeze.

"Of course. Can't wait."

"Well good. I can't do it without my Maid of Honor."

"Well, you won't have to. I'm at your disposal," she assured her with a broad smile.

"Have you looked through the things the sheriff brought by?" she asked softly, an invitation to share if Lydi wanted to talk.

She shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm not sure how to open that door. I'm going to. That much, I've decided. Actually, I asked Brian to sort of preview it for me. He agreed to look through it and see what's there. What's important and what might just be random. I just don't want to be down for your special day and Christmas. Libby's here and it's Sharon's favorite time of year. I just want to enjoy having everyone here. It's going to take a while to work through everything. Having everyone here helps so much."

A familiar buzzing had both Drew and Melanie reaching for their pagers at the same time. Priority message. Each called in to hear a recorded message requesting all available volunteer firefighters and off duty medical personnel to report to the location of a four alarm fire in an apartment complex east of San Bernardino. Major structural collapse. In need of additional personnel, both search and rescue, possible recovery, and transport.

Without a moment's hesitation, both rose to their feet and made their way inside. Quickly, they deposited their cups and grabbed their coats. They hurriedly explained the situation to their shocked parents and promised to update them as soon as they were able.

"Please be careful," Sharon called after them. She couldn't ask either of them to be less than they were. They were wired to serve, much like the adults around them. She could pray for their protection, that seeds so lovingly planted for their future would have a chance to bloom.

Rest was several hours in coming. It wasn't until Drew called his father, letting him know that while they were still in the thick of it, both were safely stationed in a parking lot, assessing and stabilizing the injured for transport to various facilities, that he could breathe. They weren't in a collapsed building, nor were they in the air. That brought palpable relief to Andy and Sharon, who were finally able to get a few hours sleep. It was more than the kids were likely to achieve.

Buzzing from the phone in his pocket had Andy returning the carafe of coffee to its cradle. Drawn the cell out, he studied the dial, squinting at the small font, then smiling. It was from Nicole.

Morning Dad. Up with Sara. Drew and Mel just dragged in. Looked pretty awful. Guessing it was a bad one. Just thought you should know. Said they were going to try and sleep for a few hours. May take the kids to your place so that can happen. N.

Andy sighed. It was seven in the morning and they were just getting home. On their wedding day, no less. No telling what they'd been through either.

Okay. We're up. Come on over whenever.

He then poured a second cup, set it on the breakfast tray he'd prepared, and made his way back to the bedroom.

Setting it on the small table by the window, he looked out not the yard, relieved to see it in the same condition in which he'd left it. After Drew and Melanie had left the prior afternoon, the guys had helped him set up the large party tent they'd invested in the previous year. The heavy all-weather material stood up well to the wind and rain and should protect their guests later in the day. With the addition of heat lamps, they would be plenty warm as well.

After breakfast, the decorating would begin.

Sharon emerged from the ensuite, hair piled high atop her head. She wore a pair of his old sweats and thick, woolen socks. Seeing him at the table, she paused and smiled.

"Well, isn't this lovely. What a treat."

"It's going to be a busy day with lots of folks in and out at the house. It may be a little tough for Lydia, after everything, and for Drew, with Sandra not showing. Plus, he and Mel just got home, according to the text I just got from Nic. So she's probably bringing the kids over so their house will be quiet for a few hours."

"Oh, no. They must have had an awful night."

"I'm guessing so. Anyway, before all the chaos I thought a quiet breakfast, just the two of us, might center us for the rest of the day. Plus, I wanted to thank you."

Sharon approached him, perching on his lap, rather the second chair.

"For what?" she asked, slipping one arm around his neck, the other creeping under the collar of his shirt.

"Well, everything, and nothing specific," he grinned. "I've watched you, these last several weeks. You dove right into the repairs to the house. You created a special place for my partner, not always the most agreeable person to live with. You not only take care of my kids as your own, but did the same for my nephew and his wife. Just moved them right in. My son's mother can't be bothered to show up for his wedding, and you take care of everything there while never trying to take over her role. You pray over us all. You do it for me every night. I know that's why you rest your hand against me before you let yourself doze off. We are about to marry off our final kid together. Isn't that something? I never would've dreamed it. I never saw you coming."

She wrapped both arms around him when he returned the gesture. Neither planned to move anytime soon. If breakfast got cold, well, it wouldn't be the first time.

The lawn was ready. They'd spent the better part of the day getting everything prepared. The large tent was secured with stakes and sandbags, camouflaged by potted greenery. Brass heat lamps were stationed at the corners to warm the space. Flowers, carefully selected by Melanie, stood on pillars of different sizes, framing the center platform where she and Drew would make their vows. The arbor, built by Andy and used for many a family wedding, was situated at the far end of the tent, its flaps drawn back to not only accommodate it, but to afford guests a lakeside backdrop.

Row upon row of white chairs filled the space, soon to be filled with family and friends eager to see Melanie and Drew begin their journey.

Andy stuffed his hands deep into his pockets and sighed. Everything looked right, but everything definitely was not right. The kids had endured a harrowing night, hour after hour of gruesome sights, sounds, smells, the stuff of nightmares. All of it on the eve of the happiest of days. Drew's mother wasn't coming. Mel had no family to speak of. Poor Lydi was ill, physically, emotionally so raw.

He felt his wife before she said a word, her arms sliding around his waist.

"It's all so beautiful," she said, curling tightly against his back. "The guys in the squad room would never believe you have such a flair for design."

He chuckled and covered her hands with his own.

"Looks okay, huh? I just wanted to be a good day for them, in spite of everything."

"Honey, it will be. Yes, it's been a rough few weeks all around. Yes, Sandra should be here. Yes, I hurt for Lydi. But, today, our boy is marrying the woman of his dreams. She feels the same way about him. You've given them this beautiful setting. An outdoor wedding for outdoor people on Christmas Eve. We've a wonderful little surprise for them. I promise you, it's going to be marvelous. They're going to love every moment."

He turned and looped his arms low around her waist, studying her in earnest.

"I guess if you've got the right girl by your side, even the worst of days are better than the best days without her."

Rising on tiptoes she expressed a kiss firmly to his lips, letting it linger.

"I'll take as many days as I'm given."

"Hey," came a new voice. "Can we interrupt?"

Without letting go, they faced the newcomers with a mixture of joy and concern.

"Hey, you two. Get any rest?" asked Andy.

Melanie stepped forward, eyes wide.

"Oh, wow," she said. "You guys, this is amazing. This is beyond anything I even hoped for. I don't know what to say."

Her eyes began to fit and Drew dropped an arm about her shoulders.

"Is everything okay?" Sharon asked, suddenly concerned that the long night and all it had dealt them had simply been too much.

"Yeah" said Drew. "We're just tired, and a little overwhelmed, I think. It really is fantastic. Thank you both, so much. We came to ask you both if you could do something for us in the ceremony this afternoon."

Good. There was still going to be a ceremony, Andy thought.

"Anything at all," Sharon smiled. "Name it."

Melanie tightened her grip on Drew's hand.

"I really don't have any family of my own, except for my great-grandfather. He doesn't travel. He's very old. I talked to Drew and he didn't seem to mind if, maybe, I borrowed his. I don't need anyone to walk me down the aisle or anything. That never really appealed to me. I was sort of hoping though, that you guys might be my family today. You know, before you become my family officially."

Sharon and Andy smiled at one another, still locked in an embrace, before each extending a hand and welcome. When Melanie excepted, their embrace made room for more.

Andy spotted his son over Melanie's shoulder. The young man clearly has something on his mind.

"Son?"

"Yeah, I, um, I wanted to talk to Sharon, if I could."

Sharon looked at her husband, who simply shrugged his shoulders.

"Why don't I give you the nickel tour, Mel," Andy suggested, stepping away from his wife and his son.

Drew lowered his head and stuffed his hands into his pockets in an impressive impersonation of Andy Flynn.

"I'm sorry," said Sharon. "Your dad's about as subtle as a bull in a china shop."

She sat in the nearest chair and smiled at the young man who looked so like his father.

"What is it, honey?"

Drew covered the few feet between them and took a seat in the row behind her. Bending low, he rested his elbows on his knees, his hands hanging loose between them.

"Even when things were still shaky between me and Dad, you were so good to me. I mean, Nicki loved you from the start. I've always just been so stubborn when it came to Dad, so slow to trust. There's no need to rehash it all. You're aware," he said, rolling his eyes. "But what I want to say though is, when you married Dad, you didn't just choose him, Sharon. You chose us. Nic, me, Jeff, the boys. Now the girls. Mel. You made a commitment to all of us and not everyone does that. I don't know why my mom isn't here and I don't have the bandwidth, as Mel puts it, to try and make sense of it. Not today. Today is about Melanie. Anyway, what I'm trying to say, not very well, is that even with no obligation to do it, you choose us. With all the wedding plans, when my mom hasn't chosen me, you have. I'd like you to stand with me today, where my mom should be. Because you always choose us."

"When your dad and I first started talking seriously about marriage, something neither of us thought we'd consider again, given the spectacular way in which we'd blown it before, we agreed to be open about our mistakes. We work very hard not to repeat them and we would never give our kids a reason to doubt their parents again. All of our children have had to deal with the effects of addiction, whether it's having a parent as an addict, being the parent left to raise the kids alone, the misplaced sense of guilt the children carry. All of us have had to heal from it in one way or another, and we have. But it's a choice every day. Every day we choose to do better, to be better. Everyday we choose each other. Everyday we choose our family. We choose you. And you'll do the same."

"I will," he said, throat tight, threatening to betray his emotions. "I will."

He covered her hands with a rested on the back of the chair between them, and gave them a gentle squeeze.

At 4:30 in the afternoon, things really began to happen. Melanie and her bridesmaids had taken over Sharon and Andy's room, while Drew and his groomsmen were at Lydia and Brian's. Anne and Patrice were in charge of the kitchen, Ben and Louie were manual labor. Their friends Ruben and Celina, from Hope House, had come out to help for the day. There were trays of food, bags of ice, tables to be set up in the tent following the ceremony. It was all hands on deck.

Sharon and Andy, parents of both bride and groom today, played host, greeting guests at the front door, taking coats and making them feel welcome.

Sam and Seth were on hand to take coats to the back room as there were far too many for the front closet. Guests were assured they would be warm enough without them.

Maggie offered warm cider to all, along with a cheerful smile.

Friends lingered in the great room, enjoying the fire and festive holiday decoration. Seeing one another outside the usual confines of work, school, church was a novelty, and especially so on Christmas Eve. It was a joyful day indeed.

Andy greeted Sheriff Goddard, thanking him again for all of his help over the past few weeks. He now regarded him as a friend.

There were a handful of young people from the paramedic service, associates of Drew and Mel's, as well as a few folks from the parish of St. Cecelia's, friends of the family.

Then there was a face Andy hadn't seen in years. He almost didn't recognize him at all.

"Andy," he said. "It's been too long."

He extended his hand, symbolic of so much more.

Andy's left hand raised to his face in utter shock. His right rose to accept the hand offered to him, almost without thought.

"Carson Micelli, as I live and breathe. You're right. It's been far too long. Come in, come in."

The man stepped aside and ushered his wife in before him, followed by a younger couple with a small child.

"You remember my wife, Karen?"

"Of course I do. Come in Karen. How are you?" Andy asked, still floored at their presence. His eyes widened further once he recognized the young man with them.

"Paulie? Oh my gosh. Paulie. Boy, do you look terrific," he said, pulling him close.

Sharon watched it all, wondering at their guests, but delighted at the happy reunion taking place before her. Her husband had gone from shocked, to cautious, to thrilled in the space of a moment.

"Come in out of the cold, everyone. Please," said Andy. "I'd like for you to meet my wife."

He turned and reached for her, finding her hand already waiting for his.

"Sharon, sweetheart, meet Carson and Karen Micelli."

Did she recognize that name? Micelli.

"Carson is Sandra's brother. This is their son, Paul."

Sharon understood her surprise.

"It's very nice to meet you . I'm so glad you came. Drew will be so pleased."

"Speaking of," said Andy, eyeing his watch. "It's about that time. Please join us afterward so we can catch up. I need to meet the rest of your family," he said, smiling at who he assumed were Paulie's wife and son.

He then turned and invited the assembled guests to make their way to the tent out back as they were eager to start on time.

Sharon gestured toward their latest arrivals.

"Follow me."

She led them through the house and onto the lawn, seating them up front where Drew was sure to see them. She made her way back down the aisle, passing Ben, who was headed in the opposite direction, and joined her husband.

"What's he up to?" asked Andy.

"We set up a livestream for Mel's great-grandfather. I called his assisted living center in Bozeman and spoke to his caregiver. It's all arranged. She'll have him here, ate least in spirit."

"You're such a mom," he said in her ear, then kissed her cheek.

Soft music began to play from the front, the musician stationed behind the flowers. The gentle strains of Bach's Sheep May Safely Graze floated through the air, warmed by the heater in each corner and the heartfelt joy of those in attendance.

Not overly traditional, but still rather sentimental, Melanie and Drew had designed a service not found in any planner's handbook. They had themselves and their family in mind.

Mark led Drew into the tent and they took their places at the front of the arbor. Then from the back, Brian and Lydi entered hand in hand. Slowly they walked toward the front and stood, together, on the bride's side. Next were Rick and Holly, then Emily and Greg, Jeff and Nicole, Rusty and Ben. Five couples creating a wreath of sorts, like a circle of protection for the bride and groom.

Finally, Melanie appeared. Seeing Sharon and And waiting nearby, she paused.

"Join me?" she asked, crooking her elbow.

They grinned and happily obliged.

Andy took her arm and Sharon held her hand. They walked the aisle together.

After presenting the bride, Sharon and Andy completed the circle.

There was a hush as they stilled and absorbed the moment. It was broken by the shaky old baritone greeting of "There's my beautiful Melly Bell."

Melanie's eyes widened and darted toward the sound of a familiar, beloved voice.

"Papa," she exhaled, a fresh sheen of happy tears appearing.

Mark studied the group before him, such a special family they made. They were beaming. Just beyond them, even more family, the one they had chosen. There was Maggie, certainly, but not everyone packed their aging parents up and move them in, wove them into the tapestry of their lives. There were Louie and Patrice, also invited in, and his darling wife, Anne. They too had been brought into the fold. Such was the way of the family Flynn.

He dropped his eyes again, considering his opening words. There were the usual scriptural references. Also, there were the notes compiled by the bride and groom. Eyeing their thoughtfully crafted words, he smiled again. They certainly had paid attention to those around them. So much of what was written on the page was so richly embodied by this assembly. They'd lived every word.

"I used to dwell a lot on the things I've lost, and I've lost a lot. Some of you have, too. Most of us have lost loved ones. You don't enjoy a rich, full life without it. That's what makes it rich and full. Too often, though, we sit and stew on the unfairness of it all until what's holding us back is no longer that loss but our inability, our refusal sometimes, to look beyond ourselves. To see that we're not the only ones suffering. We're not alone in our struggle. Sometimes we cling to our anger at our circumstances because the anger is familiar, and the familiar is comfortable. It's hard to let go of that. It takes trust, and patience, and love. A lot of love."

"Both of these young people have seen their share of loss. They've struggled and they've stewed. What they want you all to know is that it's because of you and the love that you've extended to them that they've been able to let go. And because they've been able to let go, they are now able to accept the love each has for the other, as well as the love you've offered to them all along. I'm also instructed to tell you," he paused as they chuckled. "That they are fully aware that the lessons you've taught them have been learned through experience. You too have lost, let go, and loved. That you make yourselves vulnerable by sharing your struggles to help others grow, you give your children something immeasurable."

Mark then took the pair through their vows, while also, at their request, inviting each pair in attendance to reaffirm their own. He looked out across the space, smiling at the site of many couples joining hands. His eyes fell on Anne as he led them through vows spoken from memory.

He pronounced them husband and wife. A heartfelt kiss, chased, but filled with promise, followed as the wedding party turned and faced their guests, all of whom stood and applauded.

The bridal party remained behind for pictures. They made an attractive tableau, the ladies in dresses of crimson, the men in dark suits with crimson ties. Melanie wore a gown of white, sleeveless, falling in a straight line to the floor. Her blonde hair was pulled away from her face into a simple low chignon. A tall young woman, she carried herself with grace.

As soon as they moved indoors, a makeshift crew took care of the tent, transforming it into a second dining area. Their home was large, but so was the party.

The cakes were cut, toasts made and dinner was served. Guests took their meals and found a seat, indoors or out. Several weren't able to stay. It was, after all, Christmas Eve. Folks had family obligations. That left the greater Flynn fold.

The children found a corner and tucked in. Their parents took the tent outside, and the elders claimed the warmth of indoors.

It was only when the group thinned out that Drew spotted his uncle. He had included him on the guest list, yes, but hadn't really expected him to come.

"Thank you both so much for coming. I'd like for you to meet my, my wife, Melanie," he said, grinning. "That's the first time I've said that. Mel, my aunt and uncle, Karen and Carson. And this," he said, turning to the young man beside them, "is my cousin, Paulie."

"It's very nice to meet you all. Thank you for coming." She bent to look at the boy tucked between his parents. "And who are you?"

"I was wondering that myself," said Andy, approaching them from behind, holding his wife's hand. "But I think I've an idea."

Paul ushered his family front and center.

"This is my wife, Alicia. Honey, my uncle, Andy, and his wife, Sharon."

Warm smiles were shared all around. Andy was filled with pride.

"And this is our son, Anson."

Sharon crouched before the boy, no small feat in her gown and heels.

"It's pleasure to meet you, Anson. We've just cut the wedding cake. If it's alright with your mom and dad, would you like to try it?"

The boy looked up at his parents, the question in his eyes. At their nod, his smile grew.

"I've got this," said Sam. "I'm your cousin. The cool one. Let's go find the cake."

"Thank you, Sam," said Sharon, allowing her husband to help her rise gracefully again. "Shall we sit?"

They followed her to the center of the room and made themselves comfortable.

"He's a beautiful boy," she continued. "How old is, Anson, did you say?"

His mother nodded. "He's eight."

"Anson," said Paul. "It's kind of a blend. Andy and Carson," he explained. "The two men who held me together."

Andy's hand stilled against his wife, the small circles his thumb traced halted.

"Paulie," he husked.

Carson leaned forward, resting this elbows on his knees.

"Sharon, I'm not real sure what Andy's told you about me, if anything at all."

She eyed her husband, who had resumed his caress of her hand.

"He's told me when most of Sandra's family was very resistant to him, you were always decent, even cordial."

She'd noticed Drew and Melanie on the periphery and was careful with her choice of words.

"My ex-husband is an alcoholic. I'm no stranger to the difficulties of navigating those family situations."

Andy nodded and ran his free hand across her back.

"You're very gracious," said Carson. "The thing is I also worked in law enforcement. Firearms and ballistics."

That piqued her interest.

"I'm fully aware of what is seen everyday and what the statistics are among police officers. There are several in our family. It could just as easily have been me."

"Instead, it was me," said Paul, taking over the story. "My first year in college, I got two DUI's. I was at UCLA. I didn't want my folks to know and I didn't know anything about lawyers, but I knew my uncle worked for the LAPD. So, I called him. And he call my folks."

They chuckled.

"I was really a mess. Grades in the toilet. I'd been in trouble for a while. Being away at school just helped me hide it. So, Uncle Andy pulled me out for the semester, moved me in with him, and got me into a diversion program. He took me to AA. He took me to where he worked, showed me what could happen if I kept going in the same direction. Then he showed me a few better options. I lived with him for a year, got back in school. I doubt I'd still be here if it weren't for him."

"We've kept in touch with both kids," said Carson. "Though Nicki calls more often," he joked, eyeing Drew behind the couch. "We were thrilled to receive the invitation," he told Sharon. "Thank you."

Andy turned to his wife, surprised.

"You invited them?"

"Well yes. They were on Drew's guest list."

Drew squeezed his step-mother's shoulder.

"Excuse us, please. Our friends are leaving and we really should say goodbye."

He took his bride's hand and led her away.

"I didn't want to say anything in front of the kids," said Carson. "But we didn't know anything about the wedding until we got the invitation. We'd heard about Melanie, of course. Nicki keeps us in the loop. We knew it was serious. Nicole loves her. We just thought we'd have heard all about it from Sandra."

Andy nodded and took a deep breath.

"Yeah. I don't know what to tell you."

"I don't understand her not being here today, and Nicki tells me she's never met her granddaughters? Andy, this isn't like her."

"You're right. It's not. All else aside, Sandra's a good mother. Always was."

Carson nodded appreciatively. He couldn't fault the man there. Andy had never spoken ill of Sandra in front of him, nor had he badmouthed her in front of their children. Sandra couldn't claim the same.

"There's something else, something I haven't told Nicki or Drew. They deserve to know, but I'm not sure how to tell them, and now's certainly not the time."

Sharon and Andy eyed him warily.

Carson shared a look with his wife, then looked again at his former brother in law. He took a breath that seemed to express, Here goes nothing.

"Karen and I were up in Crescent City a couple of weeks ago for a friend's retirement get together and we, well."

He huffed out another heavy sigh.

"We saw Art there, at some breakfast spot the next morning. He's not in Europe with Sandra. He was just sitting there, having this coffee. Then he grabbed his coat and briefcase, like he was headed off to work as usual."

"What?" Andy was well and truly shocked.

"I poked around on the internet. Nothing invasive, just a simple white page search. He never left California. He's still listed, new address; she's not."

Andy visibly deflated, his wife paling beside him. Sandra and Art had appeared so solid. Nicole and Drew would be so hurt. Art had been part of their family for as long as they could remember. He had raised them alongside Sandra. It had been such a source of jealousy and pain for Andy until he looked at it from the perspective of Sharon's kids. Now, he felt for Art. What on earth was happening with his former wife?

Both Sharon and Andy struggled with their distraction from that point on- Sharon, because her heart ached for her family and Andy, because he was, much to his own surprise, was genuinely concerned about his ex-wife. When it came time to send the bride and groom forth, however, they did so with their customary flair, and a surprise.

With Nicole, Jeff, and four children camping out at their house, they thought the newlyweds might enjoy a wedding night away. So, one of Sheriff Goddard's cabins, this one tucked away on the far side of the lake, was available to them for the next several days, whenever they desired a bit of privacy or space.

They were thrilled, and touched. Even more, they were quite moved to learn that, in between gifts and guests, his folks had arranged for his aunt and uncle to join them the following day for Christmas, having driven across the state on Christmas Eve. They were including the family of his former wife so his children could have as much family around as possible. Once again, they were choosing them. Drew wouldn't forget that.

It was another few hours before everyone was gone and then house had settled. After Andy's traditional reading of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas, Nicole and Drew had gotten their brood back to Drew and Mel's, Rusty and Ben had taken two sleeping boys home. The others had helped to put the house to rights before slipping away. Christmas morning would be there sooner than they could imagine.

Andy and Sharon stood the center of the tent, still up, still heated. The tables had been collapsed, the flowers taken in from the cold. The pair stood swaying to music playing from the phone in Andy's pocket. A little Nat "King" Cole to bring their evening to a close. With the wedding, they had missed Midnight Mass. This moment, though, holding one another in a still, now blissfully silent night, well that was pretty sacred too.

It had a unique layout, their cabin by the water. One large room, it boasted a bed, a low-burning fire on the opposite wall, a large, hand-painted tri-fold screen for changing, and a large garden tub. There was a small toilet behind one door, and a kitchenette on the other. It was totally unsuitable as a family home, but entirely perfect for a wedding night.

Her gown and his suit were hung on a wall peg, along with their coats. They had only a duffle, packed by Nicole, at the foot of the bed. Figuring they wouldn't need much in the way of clothing for the night, she'd only packed for the following day.

They certainly had no need of them at present, buried as they were beneath a heavy quilt, hovering in that slightly untethered space between waking and sleep. The long night before, the near perfect day in spite of it, the garish images of the fire and its victims, the vibrant beauty of the flowers, the lake, the arbor, the music, were a flood for the senses. The tide of sights and sounds were only stopped by hands and lips and soft, soothing words. Perhaps now, they could finally rest.

"Lydi?"

His arm had gone in search of her and come up empty. Sitting up in the dark room, his eyes scanned the space, finally landing of his wife.

She sat on the floor at the foot of the bed, knees drawn to her chest, arms folded atop them, her cheek resting there.

"Right here," came her soft reply.

Brian shoved the blankets back and unceremoniously crawled to the foot of the bed until he met her, his head leaning against hers.

There was a faint glow to her face, he noted, and following her gaze, deduced that she was looking at the moon through the window high in the wall of the ensuite.

"You okay?" he asked, threading his fingers through her hair. She didn't seem upset, more introspective.

"I am," she assured him. "Just thinking. For so long I thought a little else than why my father left me after my mom died. I cried a lot at first. Then, I got scared. Then numb. Then angry, resigned, and then I moved on. All the stages. Even repeated a few. Then I found a family with Mark and Anne, and they were far better than anyone else I'd ever been placed with. They chose me, you know. Your aunt and uncle, they chose me. The lot of them just took me and embraced me and made me one of them. No one has ever chosen me before. Then came you. You chose me too."

"I choose you everyday," he said, kissing the top of her head.

Lydi dropped her knees and turned to lean against the end of the bed. Propping her arms atop the covers, she came fully face to face with Brian and pressed a kiss to his lips.

"And I choose you, everyday."

"Since he showed up here, I've gone through every one of those emotions all over again. The tears, the anger, questions with very few answers. Now I'll never have them. There are so many things I'm left wondering."

Brain remained still for a moment, his hand still in her hair, his head resting against hers. Then, he whispered a soft Hold on before rolling toward the bedside table. A moment later, he returned to his spot, still warm. Smiling at her, he reached for her hand, so small against his own, and pressed a tiny white box inside. Simple cardboard, it boasted only a festive holiday ribbon.

"Merry Christmas, sweet Lydi."

Her eyes brightened.

"Thank you, Brian. Merry Christmas."

"No," he said, stilling her hand. "It's not from me, at least not entirely. "Go ahead. Open it. I'll explain."

Pulling the end of the ribbon, it slipped free and dropped into her lap. With her thumbnail, slipping the top off of the box to find another. She upended the outer box, the inner one falling into her palm. It was black and smooth, hinged on one side. When she opened it, she found a small heart shaped pendant nestled on a satin cushion. It looked old, antique even, but polished to a spotless gleam.

Her breath stilled, as if suspended. It was very familiar. Was it a locket? He delicate fingers lifted the tip of the heart, turning it sideways. It was.

Brian reached over and eyed his wife.

"Let me save your manicure," he suggested. Lydi didn't get her nails done, but kept them clean and well shaped. However, Patrice had treated the bridal party to manicures a few days prior. A special treat.

He opened the locket for her, then settled back on the bed, giving her a bit of space.

If she thought the outside had possessed a certain haunting quality, she wasn't at all prepared for the inside. There was a picture, no real surprise there. However, it was the subject of the photo that clutched at her heart.

Her family, her original family, sat together, young and carefree. Before addiction, before betrayal. A very young Lydia, all of three or four, was nestled between her parents. Goodness, were they young. Her grinning face was pressed between both of theirs, all there in a row. She couldn't place the specific memory, that day lost to the wreckage of years. It brought forth a forgotten phrase, though, something she was almost certain her father had coined. A Lydi Sammich.

"What was that?"

She sniffed. Had she said that out loud?

"He used to say 'Let's make a Lydi sandwich.' We'd smush our cheeks together, with me in the middle."

She turned and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you."

"It was in the duffle the sheriff brought by. I went through it, found that. Had it cleaned up, got the hinge repaired and bought a chain."

Lydi lifted the pendant free and saw the chain dangling below. It was thin and delicate, with tiny white pears set at even intervals a few inches apart. Just above the pendant was a diamond drop.

"I figured this would answer at least one of those questions." The heaviest one of them all, he well imagined.

"You're right," she said, eyes returning to the tiny photo. "I think it does."

Yes, her father had loved her.

"Good morning," Nicole sang.

She peeked around the door to make sure the household had indeed awakened after their late night.

"Merry Christmas, honey. Get in here where it's warm," said Sharon.

Nicole stepped inside, little Sara on her hip. Jeff was right behind her with Sharon Rose in tow. The boys brought up the rear, each toting a collection of bags and boxes in their arms.

"Merry Christmas, angels. Come in, come in," she said, reaching for them. They were so tall now, Sam having at least an inch on her.

Sharon accepted the transfer of Sara, one hip to another, while Andy appeared from the kitchen to help with the gifts. The children quickly made their way to the table, drawn by the inviting aromas of cinnamon and honey.

Spying her brother, Nicole crossed the room and squeezed his shoulder.

"Get any sleep?" she whispered in his ear.

Before he could do more than roll his eyes at her, both back door and front opened as the others arrived. Lydi and Brian, Emily and Greg came through the great room, depositing gifts by the tree. Emily handed her young son off to his namesake, then went to kiss her aging grandmother.

She found her brother and his wife already seated at the table along with Mark and Anne, each of whom held a little one. There was movement all about the house, slow and easy. No hurry, no fuss. It was quite different from the bustle of the previous day.

Coffee and cocoa were sipped. Carols softly played. The fire burned low. There was no need to entertain or impress. It was family. They made themselves at home because they were at home.

The Flynns and Provenzas worked together seamlessly, moving in and out of the kitchen with the practiced ease of a well choreographed dance. Nothing fumbled, nothing dropped. Plenty of laughter, plenty of smiles.

Holly took baby James from Anne and retreated to the corner of the sofa to nurse him. She was quickly followed by her two closest friends.

Lydi and Mel curled up on the loveseat nearby, enjoying the warmth of the fire. They kept their voices low in deference to the feeding baby boy.

"I see Brian gave you your gift," said Melanie. "How did that go?" she cautiously asked, mindful of tender feelings.

"Good, I think. More good than bad, now. That's all I can ask for. It's a snapshot of a happy time, and that's very good."

"The chain is beautiful," said Holly.

"Yes," Lydi hummed, her fingertip tracing her necklace. "Brian's gift."

"And you, Mrs. Flynn," Holly eyed her. "Drew gave you your gift, I'm sure."

All three ladies' eyes grew large at the unintentional double entendre.

"I didn't mean that!" Holly said, then lowered her voice, having disturbed a suddenly aggravated little boy.

Melanie chuckled at where her mind had gone.

"Yes, he did. To both, actually," she assured them with a rather wolfish grin. "We fly out in a few days. We'll spend the night and the following day in Bozeman, the fly into Banff. We pooled our resources and found an affordable rental. Nothing fancy, but all we'll really do there is sleep. Or not," she giggled.

Both Drew and Melanie were decidedly outdoor people. They hiked, camped, and enjoyed nature year round. The stunning beauty of Canada's oldest national park would suit them to a tee.

An hour later, everyone was collapsed around the great room, each landing anywhere they found a spot. The children took the floor, their elders, the furniture, including chairs and benches pulled in from across the house. The young folks landed somewhere in between.

As Ricky and Rusty began distributing gifts from the pile surrounding the tree, a knock sounded at the door.

"Got it!" called Rusty, before his folks could bother extricating themselves from their own pile-of grandchildren.

Pulling the door free, he exclaimed, "Merry Christmas!" Recognizing the familiar faces from the previous day's festivities, he invited them in and called "Make a little more room. We've got more family!"

Carson Micelli was pleasantly surprised by the warm reception. Andy's family had been nothing but hospitable, but he'd hardly met many of them, such was the hurried pace of the wedding day.

Andy rose from his place on the sofa, a grandchild in each arm.

"Come in, come in. Let's find some more chairs."

"I've got it, Pop. Sit back down. You've been up from hours," said Rick.

Nicole's boys took their young cousin and enfolded him amongst the other children, much to his parents' appreciation. She then waved over her cousin, Paul, and his wife, who joined her and the other siblings and their mates in front of the fire.

Rick and Rusty carried in an old velveteen settee from Maggie's room and squeezed it into the room. Carson and his wife smile in thanks before taking a seat and looking about the room, somewhat gobsmacked.

"I'm not sure you actually met everyone yesterday, with so much going on," said Sharon.

She proceeded to go around the room in a roll call of sorts, introducing each of their combined offspring, spouses, and children, along with their great-nephew and his wife, house-mates, close friends and in-laws, and Andy's visiting family, who the Micellis could remember meeting some years ago.

They certainly recalled Maggie, their self-appointed hostess the previous day.

The thing that stood out to Carson and his son, was the constant use of the word our. Our son and his wife. Our daughter, Emily. Our grandchildren. Not only had Andy gotten himself together and stepped up for his kids in a way even their mother currently wasn't, he had apparently done the same for Sharon's, and she for his. It was something to behold. If one didn't know his from hers, one couldn't tell.

They watched the joyful exchange of gifts, offered a couple of their own, listened to talk of something called Hope House, a place, it seemed, very dear to them all. It had to do with providing Christmas for another household of children outside of the family, yet not.

Andy presented his wife with the gift which had taken some planning on his part. Given the difficult circumstances surrounding their own wedding some years before, they had spent quite a lot of time in the cabin they now called home. What they had not done was enjoy a real honeymoon. A camping trip, yes. A getaway here and there, yes, they'd done that. What he had planned for them was the trip of a lifetime. They'd long dreamed of visiting the homeland they shared, Ireland. If that is what she chose, that was where they would go. He was leaving it up to her. Springtime across the pond. She was over the moon, as were those watching the exchange.

Soon, the smallest went down for a nap, as did Maggie and Provenza. Anne and Mark retired to their own place to rest before helping with dinner. Lydi and Brian took his grandparents back to their own home for a while. With their group somewhat thinned out, those remaining took the opportunity to reconnect with greater depth. They got to know Sharon and her children better and got caught up on one another's lives. Drew and Melanie opened up a bit about the fire just prior to their wedding day and their desire to follow up with the one of the youngest victims before leaving on their honeymoon. They shared a bit of the trials which had befallen Lydi, the young woman married to Drew's cousin. It had, indeed, been a challenging time for them all.

They dispersed for a while, with promises to reconvene for Christmas dinner. Nicole took her cousin's family back to her brother's house, as Drew and Mel currently had another place to stay. Her aunt and uncle returned to their hotel room in the village.

Melanie and Drew did not immediately returned to their cozy cabin. Instead, they made the drive into San Bernardino. With the roads nearly empty on Christmas Day, it was a short drive. Flashing their credentials, along with a small pink bear, they were directed to a private room in the County Burn Center.

Just outside, they washed carefully and donned the scrubs provided for them. Gloved and masked, they silently entered the room and found the little girl who had so haunted their thoughts for the past two days.

She lay face down, large portions of the back and legs draped with sterile dressing. She was connected to various lines and tubes monitoring everything from her breathing, to her temperature, to her pain receptors. They were warned she would likely be unaware of their presence. She was currently still sedated following a large-scale wound debridement. A c- shaped pillow cushioned her little face and a mirror had been placed just below, allowing her to see those towering above.

They'd been given a large sterile bag with a drawstring in which to keep the little bear, as the area was designated a cleanroom, which maintained a very low concentration of airborne particles. Placing the bag just below her, so that she might see it upon waking, they stood on either side of the child.

She was listed in stable condition, and would likely be with them for several days due to the size and severity of her burns. Skin grafts would take place in the coming days, they'd been told. Scanning the monitors, they studied her vitals, respiration, and output and were satisfied with her progress so far. Now, if they could get her little body put back together.

"Valeria," said Drew. "That's pretty."

"It is," his wife agreed. "And fitting." At her husband's curious gaze, she added, "It means to be strong."

They spent a while longer with the child, then with the medical staff. After exchanging contact information and sharing with them a Newcomer's packet from Hope House, they took their leave.

"She's all alone in the hospital," said Melanie. "Does she have any other family anywhere? She's only six."

"The sheriff and a social worker are working together to see if they can find any relatives out there to take custody. Even my folks said they'd help search."

"Really?" Mel looked at him, finally feeling somewhat hopeful for the little girl. "Okay. Good. They're very good. If there's someone out there, they'll find them."

"Until then, I gave them Rusty's number at Hope House. If she's released while we're still looking for family, they've a place for her. We can see her as often as we like. Okay?"

Melanie nodded. That sounded good. Yes. She'd be okay there.

With Christmas Day behind them and the easy flow of holiday vacation still upon them, they settled into a relaxed routine. The Micellis headed home with promises to keep in touch, and not just with their niece and nephew. Andy's family would be staying on for another couple of weeks. The kids and grandkids would be with them at least until the new year.

Drew and Melanie flew to Bozeman, spent the day with her great-grandfather, before continuing on to Banff. They were ecstatic with their honeymoon surprise, an upgrade in their accommodations for their stay. With both being new to the area and thus, new to their jobs, they didn't have much time off. The luxury cabin, as opposed to the hotel room they'd secured, would make it that much sweeter.

They spent their days hiking, skiing, and snowshoeing, enjoying the crystalline splendor of Canada in winter. Nights were enjoyed in front of a fire, a glass of wine or a cup of tea in hand. Any and all times of the day, they could be found locking it all outside, and loving the hours away.

Each day, however, without fail, they placed a call to Burn Center of San Bernardino to inquire after the health of little Valeria.

"Anything?" he asked her as she looked up from the computer.

Sharon sat back against her chair and blew a stray curl from out of her face, sighing.

"'Fraid not," she said. "No luck anywhere. I'm hearing the same from Bob and Beth," she said of the sheriff and social worker. "There's no one."

"Well," he said resting his hands on her shoulder. "She'll have a home at Hope House. It'll take some time, but she'll do well. They'll love her and take care of her. We can check on her, make sure she gets everything she needs."

She reached up to cover his hands, leaning her head back against him. "Yes, we can do that."

Andy bent low and hovered above her until she looked up to meet his gaze. Then, he smiled and kissed her.

"We've been invited to dinner," he said, hoping to lift her spirits. "Lydi and Brian called and asked us to join them for a little New Year's Eve supper. Seeing as they're also including her folks and his grandparents, I suggested we do it here. Their table isn't that big."

"Good idea," she said. "Did you also offer to cook?" she teased.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I did. They were insistent though. They'll just bring it all over here."

"Good. How did she sound?" she asked him. "This wedding was a good distraction, and Christmas. Now that she doesn't have that to think about, she's lost in her own thoughts again. I think she's feeling better though."

"I spoke to Brian. He said she's been keeping up with things at Hope House, so that's good. They've been taking short walks during the day when the sun warms things up a little. It's just going to take time, you know. We won't let it swallow her up. I think they're going out with their cousins after dinner, though. So, that'll be nice. They'll keep her out of her head."

"They're certainly good at that. I can barely focus on anything when they get going. Nothing like their special brand of madness to take your mind off your troubles."

"Hmm," he said, thinking. "Here I was with another idea entirely."

She looked at him again and, seeing the twinkle in his eye, found she quite agreed.

Warmest greetings were shared as four couples, in various stages of their own love affair, came together to break bread. Even though their holiday so far had been filled with family, Lydi and Brian had hardly a moment to simply sit down with their parents. Libby and Connor had only a few weeks with their grandson, who they'd had a hand in raising. They would soon fly back to the east coast and their life in New Jersey. While they were there, they not only wanted to spend valuable time with Libby's brother and his wife, but they longed to get to know this young woman their boy had married. They also wanted to know her parents better. Living so far away, it was difficult.

They were dressed their best. It was New Year's Eve, after all. The younger couple was headed out following dinner. The others simply took advantage of the opportunity to polish up.

Brian and Lydi worked side by side in Sharon's kitchen, each protected by one of her aprons. Brian's was fashioned of white eyelet, with holly and ivy stitched through the ruffle, Maggie's touch. His wife found him rather adorable, but then she usually did.

His grandparents, her parents, and their hosts, his aunt and uncle, sat nearby at the table talking of everything, and nothing. A quiet hour or two was welcome, though it would be short-lived, as they would be keeping the grandchildren for the evening while their parents enjoyed a rare evening out.

"Where are the lieutenant and Patrice tonight?" asked Lydi. "I hope they didn't feel unwelcome."

"Not at all," said Sharon. "They are out on a date, believe it or not. Dinner and dancing, I'm told. Patrice was beside herself."

"Can we please go into town and watch?" asked her husband. "Please? We can sit in the car and spy on them through the windows like their our kids on their first date."

"Absolutely not," laughed his wife.

"But we'll miss him dancing. Dancing, Sharon. You don't know what you're missing, babe."

The group shared a laugh as dinner was served.

"That smells marvelous, Brian. What have you made for us?" asked his grandmother, peering into the large red pot.

"It's a stew," he replied. "Vegan, Uncle Andy. Just lots of thick, chunky vegetables."

"And a Tabouli salad," added Lydi. "Lots of finely chopped vegetables and parsley, a little lemon juice. Healthy, but decadent too."

"You two have certainly been expanding your repertoire in the kitchen," said Anne. "That cooking class is already paying off."

"That doesn't start until next week. We saw this on a cooking show and tried it. Loved it."

Lydi served her folks before sitting down.

They happily tucked into their meal and the cheerful chatter began to quiet.

"We enjoy cooking together and it's saves money," said Lydi. "Eating out gets expensive, plus it's not special if you do it often. We're thinking of trying our hand at a little garden this spring."

"Andy actually knows something about that," said his sister.

Sharon nodded, swallowing. "He kept a small one in his yard in LA. He could help you get started, if you like."

Andy passed the large ceramic bowl of salad across the table, nodding.

"Be happy too. Patrice would be an even better resource. A real green thumb, that one."

"So, what do you think?" asked Brian.

Connor's eyes grew wide with unexpected delight.

"This is outstanding," he said, clearly surprised.

Libby chucked at her husband. Her laughter took over her entire body.

"Maybe don't let on that you're so shocked."

Laughter, contagious laughter, ran around the table. It was a welcome sound and more, a welcome feeling, one that had been in short supply of late.

"I am. It's got no meat!"

With that, they dissolved into a fit of childlike giggles and oh, but it felt good.

A dessert of gingerbread, Maggie's recipe, and tea followed. They retired to the great room to enjoy cozy quilts and a warm fire. They spoke of the new year and all it promised. Libby and Connor would soon return to New Jersey, and Lydi to Hope House.

Her body was healing, thanks to good diet and exercise, an awful lot of patience, and of course, the love found in abundance there on the lake.

"I got a letter from the hospital yesterday," she told them as they sat together, soaking in the warmth, the sense of family. It was almost sacred. All of them had been without it, thus they knew knew its value.

Their eyes focused on Lydi, then on their dessert. She didn't like attention and whatever she was trying to share with them would be challenging enough without the heat of their collective gaze.

"Javi's body was donated to the hospital for their use. Due to the alcoholic hepatitis, they were limited in what they could use, but the letter stated that they were able to help someone, a few people, actually, because of him. I think he'd like knowing that. It helps."

Anne reached for her daughter's hand and covered it with her own, nodding. Her throat was tight with emotion.

"That's beautiful, Lydi. I'm glad you decided to do that."

"He said he didn't wish to take anymore, but to give. This accomplishes that."

Mark studied his girl, the daughter his heart had chosen. She was more at peace than in weeks.

"I think it accomplishes more than that," he said.

"These guys are really terrific," said Emily. "I can't believe they're out here at the lake rather than LA or San Fran."

"I looked them up online," sad Ricky. "They've played a lot of smaller clubs and pubs all over. They've got a great sound, yeah? Maybe they'll make it big and we can say we knew them when."

They'd managed to find a spot large enough for their group and tucked themselves into a curved booth in the corner of the pub. The eight of them sipped on a variety of drinks from cocktails to soda to decaf. It was a novelty, being out together, all dressed up and without their children.

"I'm sorry Mel and Drew aren't here with us," said Lydi. "Although I'm sure they're perfectly content wherever they are this evening."

"You mean whatever they are doing," said Emily. "I mean, what were we all doing on our honeymoon?" she chuckled.

"Speak for yourself," said Jeff, draping his arm about his wife's shoulder and tugging her close. "We had two little boys on ours. Adjoining rooms don't buy you much privacy, I can tell you that."

"Brave man," said Rick. "Taking the kids on your honeymoon. What were you thinking, man?"

"We were thinking of coming to together as a family," said Nicole. "And it worked. We have." Turning to Lydi and Brian, she smiled reassuringly. "You make it work. We find time," she winked.

"Well, you've added two more to the family in short order, so I guess you do," teased Emily.

"Well, we're not in any hurry on that front," said Lydi, wrapping an arm around her husband's. "There's plenty of time for that. Until then, we'll be content with the kids we've got," she said of their charges at Hope House. "They keep us busy enough, that's for sure."

Rusty sipped his coffee and nodded. He appreciated her devotion to the kids they served, and he couldn't do the work they did without her.

"We may be getting another soon. That fire Drew and Mel helped with the other night? One of the families left behind a little girl, aged six. The only survivor. Mom and Pop have been looking for someone who can take custody. The sheriff and social worker, too. So far, no luck."

"Bless her heart," said Lydi, tracing her fingertips along her husband's arm. That was the awful truth about the work they did. She loved what they did. So did Rusty. Both of them were products of a system that didn't always work as well as it should, but as long as there were children in need of a safe place, their work would continue. It would be awfully nice if there were need for them anymore. "Well then, we'll just have to make room."

As the music took on a slow, lazy tempo, the couples made their way to the makeshift dance floor. Among them, only Emily was keen on the fast-tempo numbers, her toes tapping all evening. At present, they enjoyed the ballads, swaying slowly, hands wandering, lips tasting, thrilling at the rare date night, one without a curfew.

They didn't make it to eleven.

Exhausted from the long day spent with their children, they retreated to Drew and Mel's where they rang in the New Year together over cheesecake and coffee. They then scattered and returned home to their own beds where they could safely collapse, or ring in the New Year right.

As midnight approached at the cabin on the lake, Sharon and Andy could be found doing just that.

"Have you heard from the kids?" she called across the room, folding a load of laundry while her husband brought in another. Their grandchildren were certainly messy, she thought with a smile.

"I know they landed. They agreed to join us for dinner. If I were to guess, they're probably home taking a nap. They've had a long day of travel. As soon as Louie and Patrice get back from town, I'll get started on supper. Why don't you take a break and lay down for a while? Those kids have kept you running for days."

"They've kept us both running, Andy. I can handle dinner."

Setting down a stack of folded clothes, she stood akimbo and eyed him.

"I'll make you a deal," she challenged him.

"Uh oh," he said. "No fair. I'm dealing with a pro."

He placed the laundry basket on the chest at the foot of the bed and stepped closer to her, placing his hands on her hips.

"Alright. Let's hear it, Commander."

Tilting her head, she narrowed her gaze and did her best to keep a straight face.

"I was simply gong to suggest that we finish putting all of this laundry away together, then we can tackle supper the same way. What do you say, Lieutenant?"

Pulling her closer still, he planted a lingering kiss against her lips, reveling in the hum it brought forth.

"I say, you always were a champion deal maker. You're on."

Less than an hour later, Louie and Patrice returned from the market, laden down with groceries.

"There you guys are," said Andy. "Was about to send out a search party for you two."

"Sorry, sorry," said Louie, handing off a pair of canvas bags filled with items from the market. "But we brought you a special delivery, straight from Canada!"

"Oh!" called Sharon. "They're home!"

She quickened her steps to greet the newlyweds at the door. Wrapping them both in a warm embrace, she pressed a kiss to each cheek before releasing them.

"It's good to see you both. How was your trip? You look good," she said, noticing their pink faces.

"It was fantastic," said Drew. "We're a little windburned. We skied and hiked. It really is a beautiful place. That's one checked off the bucket list."

He stepped around her to embrace his father, clapping him on the back.

"Hey, Pop. Grandkids wearing you out? You look beat."

"Nah, you can never have too many grandkids. We'll rest when they go back home. Then, we'll start counting the days 'til they come back," he chuckled. "You look great. You look happy." He settled his palm at the base of his boy's neck and held him there, studying him.

"I am, Pop. I'm really happy. I want to thank you and Sharon, again, for the best day ever. We were both pretty sure it was going to be tough, with everything else going on. I just wanted it to be special for her. You guys really outdid yourselves. It was just about perfect."

Melanie slipped up alongside them and waited her turn. When her father-in-law turned to her, she also enveloped him in a warm embrace, saying simply, "Thank you, so much."

"Anything for our kids, baby," he said in her ear.

The kids shared with them their adventures in The Great White North, while Sharon and Andy prepared a simple, by hearty supper. Maggie appeared and got to work on her own contribution, a pudding filled with bananas and wafer cookies, for a sweet dessert.

Within the hour, they sat down to eat, The Flynns, the junior Flynns, the Provenzas, and Grandma Maggie.

"This turned out great, Flynn," said his old partner. "Despite the lack of meat anywhere in it," he grumbled. "Vegetarian chili. Who'd have thought?"

"Thanks, old man. I'm touched," he said with an exaggerated tool of the eyes. "Say, where'd you find the beer?" He gestured toward the bottle. "That's not your usual brand. You haven't had that since you left the city."

Louie finished chewing, but nodded, looking a bit like a bobble head, his partner thought.

"There's a place over in the city that has the widest assortment you've even seen," he explained. "I brought your lovely wife a bottle of wine, too."

"What were you doing in the city? Is that why you were gone so long today?"

He looked at his partner and his wife, seated across the table, then at his own wife.

"Actually, they were with us," said his son. "Mel and I met with a social worker in Berdoo today, about Valeria."

"Oh, how is she?" asked Sharon. The child had been heavy in her thoughts and in every prayer lately.

"Improving," said Mel. "She received skin grafts a couple of days ago. Back and legs. She'll have quite the recovery ahead of her, but so far things look good."

"What did the social worker have to say? Any luck finding some family to assume custody?"

Mel and Drew shared a look before returning their gaze to their folks across the table.

"No. That's kind of why we were there. The Lieutenant and Patrice, and Sheriff Goddard too."

Andy looked at his friends, then his wife, then the kids.

"Okay," he said, patiently waiting for more explanation.

Drew and Mel grinned at his effort not to push.

"Go ahead," said Patrice, encouraging them. "It's fine."

Drew covered his bride's small hand with his much larger one and gave it a squeeze.

"Mel and I are applying to foster Valeria. The social worker is expediting the application since we already have background checks and RFA certificates on file with the county as volunteers at Hope House. The lieutenant and the sheriff were there to speak on our behalf. Hope House has room for her, but she'll need a quiet place to heal, physically and mentally, for a good while. She'll need someone who knows how to care for her injuries. Patrice spoke to the staff at the burn center and she's offered to assist us with that. We've talked to the office and changed our work schedule around so that one of us can be home with her while the other one works."

His parents watched him explain, listening to the conviction in his voice, watching the pride with which his new wife looked at him. They said nothing as he offered them an unnecessary explanation.

Drew studied them for a reaction and, strangely, found none.

"She deserves and a home and a family, a future. We want to try and give her that."

Sharon blinked furiously as the tears that suddenly threatened. She could well remember saying something very much like that to her oldest, when she'd made up her mind to adopt the youngest. Once again a very dark night would lead to a miracle for a child in dire need of one. The conviction she held in her heart then, she saw in Drew and Mel's eyes now.

She leaned her head against her husband's arm, wrapping her hands around his wrist.

"You'll make a wonderful family," she said.

"You think so?" asked Drew. "I sure hope so."

"Oh, I do. You're going into it for Valeria. You're already putting her first. You'll be wonderful parents."

Andy reached his free hand across the table in offering. First his son, then his daughter-in-law, grasped it firmly, smiling. His own happy face mirrored their own, and also bore a touch of pride. How far they'd come.

Hope House was quiet, as it tended to be during the day in the middle of the week. With most of the children in school, there was time to get caught up on household chores, meal prep, and the budget. With Celina taking care of the lawn and Ruben seeing to the evening's meal, Rusty was bringing Lydi up to speed with what she'd missed.

Working only mornings for the time being, plus enjoying dinner with the children a couple of times a week, she was finding the much-needed balance her body still required to keep up with her work and allow herself to continue healing. With Christmas behind them and the new year already two weeks in, she'd had about as much of her own four walls as she could stand. There was peace and quiet, and there was abject boredom.

She sipped at one of Patrice's smoothies, this one prepared by Brian, as she wrote Thank you letters to the families who had played holiday host to the children. Rusty sat nearby, balancing the accounts and looking over paperwork for possible new intakes.

A soft knock on the doorframe drew their attention, and a pair of cheerful smiles.

Time with her closest friends had been in short supply since the wedding. Slowly, she unfolded herself from her seat and rose to embrace first Melanie, the Drew.

"You guys," she hummed. "It's really good to see you. You both look so happy."

"We are," they assured her. "We came to see you. Wanted to share something with you. You got a minute?"

Lydi looked from one to the other, then to Rusty, who simply shrugged his shoulders.

"Sure," she said, a little uncertain.

"It's nothing bad," Melanie promised. "Let's sit down, okay?"

Rusty watched them take their seats at one of the booths the kids loved to sit in at lunchtime, and decided to quietly excuse himself.

"So, what's up?" she asked hesitantly. "Everyone's okay, right?"

Melanie extended a hand to cover her friend's.

"Yeah, of course. I told you, it's nothing bad."

Drew laid a hand atop his wife's shoulder and leaned in closer.

"It's all good, Lydi. The thing is, we've decided to foster a little girl who lost her family in the fire from a few weeks back. Her name is Valeria. We've told you a little about her."

"Yeah, of course. That's great. We talked about making room for her here, but it sounds like she's going to need a lot of care. A private home will be even better."

"We really want you to meet her, Lydi. She's got big brown eyes and dark hair. She's got a long road ahead of her, but thanks to her very own miracle, she has a really good start to her recovery."

"That's wonderful," she said, pausing. "Miracle?"

Her throat began to feel tight, her lungs burned.

"You received a letter from the transplant coordinator a couple of weeks ago," Drew began.

Lydi's eyes began to fill and her heart, to race, knowing what they were going to tell her.

"Valeria was a recipient of your father's donated organs," Drew continued, for once not shying away from referring to Javi as her father. In this instance, it seemed fitting.

Lydi nodded, eyes tearing, having known. She just knew. The letter she'd received notified her that Javi's body had yielded viable lungs and skin. All else other than the corneas, which were questionable, was unusable due to the Alcohol-Induced Hepatitis. Even with so little serviceable organ or tissue, a little girl, this little girl was helped, others saved.

"I'd want to meet her," she managed. Then, sniffing and sitting taller, "I'd love to meet her."

"So, where do you want to go this spring, my sweet?" Andy asked his wife. "Ireland still at the top of your list? Saint Patrick's day in the homeland sounds like a good time to me."

"That is does," she purred, tucking herself snugly against him. "Cool, crisp mornings, wildflowers in County Clare."

He trailed his fingertips up the long expanse of her spine, grinning each time she flinched. She laid on her stomach, the bedding bunched about her hips, sheets twisted beneath them. One of the few advantages to having their grandchildren back in their own homes was lazy mornings in bed, with no expectations other than making love and wasting time on daydreams.

"We can get a little cottage in the village, great views, away from the noise of the festivals. Just you and me. Romantic."

"Very," she husked, finding his lips, hungry for more.

The house was looking better than ever, the dark grey plank siding with its crisp white trim was now dressed up by smart looking boxwoods cut low in front of cheerful window boxes awaiting spring flowers. Both Drew and Mel had put in countless hours on the property, as had Sharon and Andy before them. A lot of pride shown from the carefully chosen colors, plantings, and yard work. It was a beautiful home in which to start a family.

Lydi knocked on the door, its silver knocker heavy in her hand. She took a step back and thought of the child she would meet, the little girl already stitched tightly into the hearts of her closest friends. The little girl now carried with her part of her father, Lydi thought with a smile. She found she liked knowing that a bit of Javi Torres lived on, that for all of his taking, he had given an unbelievable gift. In his death, he had offered a child a chance at a new life. He would like knowing that, she thought. She certainly did.

The door swung open. Melanie greeted her with her characteristic grin.

"Hi there. Come on in."

Lydi stepped inside, then followed her friend into the den where she found the child resting on the couch.

"She just woke up," explained Melanie. "Her meds knock her out. Come have a seat. Tea?"

"Maybe in a bit," Lydi replied, not taking her eye off of the child.

Melanie knelt beside the child and spike quietly.

"Valeria, honey? I'd like for you to meet someone really special."

She waited until Valeria opened her eyes fully and turned her head to face them. Her eyes adjusted and she started to push against the cushions, rising to sit up.

"I've got you," said Melanie, with a tenderness that made Lydi want to cry. This was the medic, the caregiver. The natural mother.

"Valeria, this is my best friend, Lydi. She's come to meet you, because you are also very special."

Lydi perched on the corner of the coffee table, eyes fixed on the child. Dark hair and beautiful almond eyes, she was precious.

"Aren't you just beautiful," she sighed.

Valeria's eyes fell, and her head shook. No.

Lydi looked to Mel, who sighed. Then, she dropped to her knees beside Valeria and covered her tiny hand with her own.

"I'm going to tell you a story, Valeria, a true story. Once there was a man who was sad. He was so sad that his heart became sick and weak. His body was strong. He could still do all the things he used to do, but his heart wasn't happy. One day, he went to Heaven, where he is as happy as can be. His heart isn't sad anymore. But before he left, he told his doctors to use any part of his body they could to make someone else's body well. So, they did. One man got his lungs, because he needed them badly and now he can breathe so much better. Someone else was hurt in a fire and was burned so badly that they needed some new skin so they could get well. So she could run and play again. You see, the man only took his sick heart to Heaven and it was made well. The rest of him, the part that was healthy, he left behind to help other people get better."

They watched as Valeria processed the story, as her little hands reached around to where her bandages covered the lower part of her back and upper legs. When she found Lydi's eyes again, she didn't need to ask. Lydi was smiling and nodding. Yes.

"That man was my father. He's in Heaven now, but a part of him is now a part of you. So yes, you are very beautiful to me. To all of us. You're a miracle, Valeria."

"Knock, knock," came the voice at the door.

"Come in, darlings," called Maggie, elbow-deep in dinner preparations. "Come taste for me."

Drew stepped into the kitchen, leading his wife and a small child. She walked stiffly, holding fast to Melanie's hand, peering around her with wide, cautious eyes.

"We brought someone very special for you to meet," said Drew, encouraging the girl to draw near.

"Valeria, this is my grandmother, Maggie. Gram, this is Valeria. She's staying with us. She's also recovering from surgery, so I'm going to get her settled somewhere comfortable. Then, you two can get to know each other."

He led the child into the great room and got her situated in his father's recliner, with pillows tucked behind and underneath her to cushion the areas most affected by her injuries and the surgery to correct them.

Melanie joined Maggie in the kitchen and fixed a cup of cocoa, filled with marshmallows. Taking it into the living room, she set it beside Valeria to cool, then took the seat beside her.

Maggie wrapped up her dinner preparations, washed up, then joined them in front of the low-burning fire. She brought with her a teacup and a dish of cookies, fresh from the oven. Sitting in the corner of the sofa, she took a sip of her tea and placed it on a coaster on the end table. Turning with her typical measured grace, she regarded the child. She seemed somewhat closed off, there, but not. Maggie couldn't begin to imagine her trauma, the pain, and not only the physical. Perhaps being emotionally numbed was safer for the present.

"Would you like a cookie, dear one?" she asked her. "I just took them out of the oven. They're soft and warm."

Valeria watched the old woman with interest. While she'd yet to speak, she followed her movements and seemed to be listening.

Melanie and Drew watched the curious interaction. They'd yet to hear the little one utter a word. She followed them with her eyes, wide open, responding with a nod or shake of her head. Whether her throat was sore from intubation or irritated from smoke inhalation, or she simply didn't trust her voice, Valeria remained silent.

There was no need to push. They could meet her most basic needs without conversation. Already they were finding ways to read her in the way her nose scrunched up in distaste at the sight of certain foods, or her eyes brightened at others. She seemed curious, but unwilling to engage or invest. Currently, she appeared fascinated by the unusual pendant hanging from the chain around Maggie's neck.

Maggie noticed as well and, fingering the pendant, she eyed the little one with affection.

"Do you like it?" she asked, somewhat conspiratorially. "Look here."

Maggie lifted the chain over her head and rested the pendant in one palm. She then pressed a round button at the top, and the entire thing popped open, as did Valeria's eyes.

Watching from nearby, Drew covered his wife's hand.

"This was my late husband's pocket watch. I gave it to him some seventy years ago on the day we got married. See here?"

She tilted her palm toward the child, who craned her neck to better see.

On the right, a traditional watch face, its dial of mother-of-pearl. The left bore a small black and white photo of the bride and groom, added some time later.

Valeria's eyes flitted between the photo and the much older woman at her side, making the connection.

"William carried it with him everywhere until he left us. Now, I carry it, keeping him close to my heart."

Valeria watched the wizened woman's eyes as she spoke, recognizing both the love and the loss. Slowly, she extended her small hand until her fingertip touched the rim of the watch, and her face changed. The first hint of a smile, hardly there at all, pulled at her lips. It was enough. It was everything.

Cheerful voices broke the spell as Sharon and Andy entered the house through the back door. The bitter cold had prompted them to move their daily hikes from morning to midday, when the sunshine provided a modicum of warmth.

Soft laughter, like music, preceded them to the great room, where upon entering, they found their children, plus another. This one, they'd greatly anticipated meeting. Instantly, they slowed their approach, cautious of startling her.

"Hello," said Sharon. "We didn't realize how late it had gotten."

She walked toward Melanie and Drew and bent low to kiss each of their cheeks in welcome. Andy was right on her heels.

Drew wrapped his free arm about Sharon's back and returned the greeting. Then, peering around her, he made the introduction.

"Valeria, I'd like you to meet my parents, Sharon and Andy. Guys, this is Valeria Mosqueda."

She looked up, but kept her chin bashfully tucked, regarding them with cautious curiosity.

Her hosts smiled warmly and, reading her reticence, kept their enthusiasm in check. Andy took a seat on the sofa, in the opposite corner from his mother-in-law, while his wife padded toward the kitchen.

When Sharon joined them again, she brought with her a tray of tea and fruit, enough to share. Placing it on the coffee table, she tucked herself against her husband.

The family proceeded to visit, like always, including, but not pressing the little girl. Each of them stole glances at her, however, always finding her eyes on them.

They persuaded their guests to stay for supper. Lydi and Brian were entertaining his grandparents. Louie and Patrice are out of town for a few days, so the house was very quiet.

As they gathered at the table, they were again offered a bit of insight into the mind of little Valeria. Her eyes took in the variety of dishes lining the center of the table, two pans of lasagne, a large bowl filled with salad, and a loaf of think, crusty bread.

"The one in the green dish is the meatless, son," said Maggie, taking her seat.

Andy kissed her cheek as he passed behind her to his own place at the table.

"Mm, veggie lasagne," he hummed.

As plates were filled, everyone stole glances at the smallest among them, whose eyes seemed fixed on Andy's plate.

"Valeria, would you like to try some of that?" asked Melanie. "It's got noodles and sauce and lots of chunky veggies, but no meat. Does that sound good?"

The little girl turned toward her new foster mother, who sat patiently beside her, and gently nodded.

Melanie grinned, reached for Valeria's plate, and filled it with food. Placing it before her again, she sat back and quietly gave thanks.

Following supper, they brought their visit to an end. Valeria was due for another dose of medicine and another change of dressings. It would be unpleasant for them all, but with any luck, she would be able to rest afterward.

They said their goodnights and departed foe their own home, promising to visit again soon, which brought an unexpected grin to Valeria's face. Just a small smile, it was a huge leap forward.

Sharon was pouting. Hair piled high atop her head, feet encased in her husband's woolen socks, a bag of salty chips in hand, she was the picture of a brooding teen. The holiday season was over. The grandkids had returned home. Libby and Connor had flown out the previous day, headed back to Jersey. No amount of promising to visit, no guaranteed letters, could keep her from missing her friend already. Her husband found her positively adorable.

Andy missed his sister as well, her husband too. He'd grown accustomed to the distance, however, and simply looked forward to the next visit, over the summer, perhaps. Maybe they'd take the kids. Lydi had never visited the east coast.

"You know what you need, Sweetheart?"

Sharon turned and gave him a look which would make a lesser man quiver. Andy, however, had always rather enjoyed poking this particular bear.

"You need to start planning our Irish adventure. Come on. We can hop on the internet, figure out what all we want to see, plan a route. You name it. It'll be fantastic. What do you say?"

He looked so earnest, so truly excited about their trip, her glare softened at once. He was right. She always got this way after Christmas. Planning their very belated honeymoon trip would be the perfect distraction.

"Grab the laptop," she said, rolling down the top of the chip bag. There were healthier ways to occupy her mind.

Andy trudged into the bedroom on heavy feet, pulling his sweater and undershirt over his head at the same time. Passing into the ensuite, he deposited both into the hamper and bent low to start the water for a much-anticipated shower. While the water heated, he turned toward the mirror and, resting his hands against the vanity, allowed his head to fall forward. He sighed in frustration.

Sharon, watching the scene from the closet, padded her way toward him and, stopping behind him, wrapped her arms low around his waist and pressed herself against his back.

He'd been on the phone with his daughter after supper. That much she knew. She wasn't concerned about that relationship, which was better than ever. No, she could only assumed it had to do with his children's mother. That situation just seemed to defy explanation.

"Nicole okay?" she murmured in his ear, knowing she was decidedly less than.

He exhaled loudly, then lifted his head, eyes closed.

"She talked to Art. Carson tracked down some contact information for him and she finally pinned him down at work. He didn't have much to say, but agreed to meet her on Saturday if she can get down to San Diego. He's flying down for a meeting there. Drew is on shift, but Rusty offered to meet her in LA in drive down with her."

He turned and placed both palms on her shoulders, caressing the soft skin there.

"I'm sorry. For the kids, for Art, for you all. I don't know what's going on with Sandra, but it's just awful for those who love her."

She pulled him close and held him tight.

"Why don't you drive down with her? I'll even go along for the ride. I can make myself scarce for the meeting. Or I can stay with the girls if that makes things easier."

He sighed again.

"I'll talk to her again in the morning. See what she thinks. Right now, I don't want to think about it. I just want to forget about it for an hour. Join me in the shower? Time to get rid of this day."

"Well now, that's an offer I'd be foolish to pass up," she said, nuzzling his neck.

"Oh yeah," he said, suddenly feeling a bit better. "Definitely the best way to get my mind off of things."

Nicole, her father, and his wife all sat together, tucked away from the crowd, at the end of a patio overlooking the marina. They had a view of the bay, the Midway Museum and the Coronado Bridge. The day was picture perfect. If only it could provide the lift to their spirits they'd hoped when they suggested it.

They'd discussed it, and Nicole wanted her step-mother to tag along. She had a calming influence on her, the years of conflict resolution still proving useful. If nothing else, Art had always liked her quite a lot. He'd actually gotten rather used to Andy, as well. There had been a great deal of tension between the two men for years, for obvious reasons. Andy had grown to appreciate Art's contribution to the upbringing of his kids after growing so close to Sharon's, and Art admired the hard climb Andy had made to pull himself together. He also had children from a previous marriage that he didn't often get to see, so he understood the complex relationship between blended families. They were hopeful their meeting would be fruitful and without malice, for Nicole's sake.

When Art was shown onto the patio, Andy stood and waved him over. Nicole went to him and after only a moment's hesitation, warmly embraced him.

Sharon reached for her husband's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze both in support and gratitude. She knew it was difficult for him to see her daughter hold such affection for the other man, but he was putting her above everything else, and it showed.

"Andy, Sharon," he said. "Good to see you both. It's been some time, hasn't it?"

"That it has," said Sharon. "Please, have a seat, Art. Nicole said you've been in meetings for a couple of days. Can we offer you something to drink?"

"Uh, yeah, thanks," he said. "Iced tea, please," he added when the server stopped by. "He then turned to his step-daughter. "How are the kids, Nicki? They must be growing like weeds."

"Oh, they are. Sam is driving. Can you believe it? Sara's pulling up on everything," she said, drawing an envelop from her purse and handing it them. "I thought you'd like some photographs."

"Thank you, Nicki," he said, grateful for the thought. "I actually brought Christmas gifts for everyone. I didn't know how not to buy presents."

The poor man suddenly looked quite miserable, as if finally able to unburden himself of a heavy load. He looked around the table at people who had been on the periphery of his life for the last several years.

"Andy, Sharon, it's good to see you both looking so well. Nicki and Drew keep me up to speed. They tell me you've both had quite a few health hurdles lately. Sharon, I'm sorry for the loss of your father. I hope your mother is well."

"She is, yes, and thank you. It's been a challenging few years to be sure, but we're doing well, all of us. You look well yourself. I'm guessing things have been a bit challenging for you, too."

Art sighed, then turned to find Nicole watching him, concern in her eyes.

"Nicki, when was the last time you spoke to your mother?"

"Um, it's been," she paused. "It's been quite a while since she called. She's emailed and she's sent a few letters, but it's been a long time since we actually spoke," she said, her face falling. "She sent money for the kids for Christmas, but no call."

They all watched as her eyes filled and her voice tightened.

Art took a deep breath. He wore a look of utter frustration and loss.

"When we first left on our cruise around the world, everything was good. It was romantic, you know? We hired a house-sitter, packed our things, and hopped on the boat. We saw some beautiful sights. The first half of the trip was terrific. We enjoyed great food and wine, met some interesting people. We made some stops in ports of call where we were able to stay and explore the area for a time. It was everything we had hoped.

"One day we visited the city of Cortona. We spent the day separately. I did a diving excursion. I'd always wanted to try that," he explained. "Sandra decided to tour a glass-blowing factory with a couple ladies we'd befriended on the ship. I had a terrific day, but Sandy didn't return to the ship. Patty and Leanne, the ladies we met onboard, said she was okay, she just said she wasn't reboarding. It was a seventy-two hour stopover, so I immediately disembarked and went looking for where the girls told me they'd left her. I found her in a little inn down in Cortona. She claimed she hadn't actually run off. She knew I'd come looking for her when she didn't show up onboard the ship."

Art paused his story to take a sip from the glass the server place in front of him. He swallowed and sighed, as if gathering himself before continuing his tale.

"She wanted me to see her away from the boat, there in the village, to see how happy she was, how safe. She wanted to stay on for the week. Explore solo. Read, walk, drink wine, experience solitude," he said, using his fingers to make air quotes, "like in some book she'd read. She swore there wasn't a problem. She would take the ferry and reboard at the next port of call a week later. She only wanted an adventure her own. Something about proving something to herself for her seventieth birthday. I won't lie to you guys. I fought her on it. I mean, what the hell? We were in a foreign country and she decides to not get back on the cruise ship?"

"And how was she when she reboarded a week later?" asked Andy, his fingers twirling the ends of his wife's hair.

Art looked across the table from Andy to Sharon to Nicole.

"Oh, she didn't," he said, as if he thought they'd known. "I received a cable aboard ship that she wanted more time. She wanted to see if she could rely on herself, to see if I believed she could do it. Like, if I went looking for her, I didn't think she could. But if I didn't, I didn't love her her enough to look for her. How could I not go after her?"

The poor man looked miserable.

"Did you?" asked an equally miserable Nicole.

"Of course I did. Found her too. Turns out, while she wasn't big on keeping in touch with me, she did stay in touch with Patty. She had a postcard marked Positano. I packed our things and arranged to have everything shipped home. I took a bag and left the ship, which is a lot more complicated than you'd think, let me tell you."

He took another sip and paused to collect himself.

"What happened when you found her?" asked Nicole.

Art looked at her, the young woman he'd loved as a daughter since she was just a girl. How could he break her heart?

"Oh, honey."

The view from the hilltop was as stunning as always. The air was as fresh as ever, even as cold as it was. They'd been spared snow, though the ground still iced in the early mornings. This evening, however, was crisp and chilled. It was a striking contrast to the fiery orange sunset stretching overhead.

The one thing lacking this night was the usual inspiration found on the hill. Almost every evening their journey to the top issued forth answers to the day's questions, solutions to its worries, peace to its struggle. Not today. Today, all of that eluded them.

After their tearful meeting with Art, they'd walked him to his car, where he'd handed Nicole a large parcel of Christmas gifts he'd purchased for her and the children. When she'd hugged him to thank him and say goodbye, he'd held her a little longer. He'd apologized for dropping out of touch, for trusting her mother to explain the situation and giving her the space to do it, when it turned out she'd done neither. He promised that regardless of the situation now, he still loved both Nicole and Drew very much and that wouldn't change.

They had driven Nicole back to San Bernardino. The drive had been quiet, disturbingly so. It was an awkward circumstance. Nicole's parents were no longer married. Andy didn't feel comfortable asserting his opinions on the matter. As bothered as the whole affair had left him, he still didn't want to be critical of Sandra in front of their children. Sharon, too, was hesitant on the subject. She never wanted to be that kind of step-parent.

Upon returning to the lake, they'd eaten a quiet dinner with Maggie, Provenza and Patrice enjoying supper on their little patio, now that they had the space to do so.

Then, they'd bundled up for a walk to the top of the hill in an effort to stretch their legs. It had been along day, much of it spent stuck in the car. The climb felt good. The exercise warmed their muscles and the fresh air cleared their heads.

If only it could give them some clear direction on how to heal the hurt and confusion their kids were suffering.

Together they sat, wrapped in a blanket, eyes on their cozy home with smoke curling upwards from the the smokestack. Silence, like its own blanket, enveloped the house in a peace which mirrored that found on the lake.

Suddenly, inspiration struck.

"I know where I want to start our vacation."

"Yeah?" he asked, startled, but glad for the distraction from far heavier thoughts. "We can stay as long as you like. So, wherever you want to start from is fine with me."

"We should start in Positano," she quickly said, then paused, awaiting his inevitable retort.

Andy turned to face her, eyes wide. He then repositioned his body so that he was fully facing her. He knew what she was suggesting and why, but he didn't want her sacrificing their belated honeymoon for this.

"Sharon, no. I appreciate that you're trying to help the kids, but no. This trip is about you, about us."

"Andy," she said, laying a hand aside his cheek. "You said I could choose where we go and what we do. You also said we can stay as long as we like, so what does it cost us to stop in Positano first. We can fly into Naples, find Sandra, make sure she's okay, if nothing else. At least the kids will know that much. Maybe talk to her, see what's going through her mind. This really isn't like her. Maybe she's ill and needs help. Andy, it's more than just needing solitude or some kind of adventure. She's not been in touch with her children in months. That's not Sandra."

"It's not. I agree," he said, rubbing his fingers across his brow. "It's just," he said, frustrated. "That's not the purpose of this trip. Not to mention, she's a grown woman. I can't make her do anything she doesn't want to do, as much as I'd like to this time."

"But we could find her, check on her, talk to her," said Sharon. "Nothing more than that. At least we'll know we did all we could. For Nicole and Drew. They need someone to step in and do for them what they're not able to do. Everyone needs that once it a while."

Andy sighed heavily against the weariness that had begun to settle in his chest. She wasn't wrong. It wasn't a bad idea. It just wasn't what he wanted for her.

His attention was caught by movement on the lawn. Down the hillside and across the water, he could see Brian and Lydi exit their home. Andy reached for his wife's hand, his eyes fixed across the lake.

Sharon followed his gaze and smiled to see the young couple in their coats and boots, strolling toward the pier. In her hands, Lydi carried a small box. As they stopped at the water's edge and opened the box, Sharon's heart began to beat wildly in her chest.

"Oh, Andy."

He knew it in the same moment, watching as Brian and Lydi appeared to lift a small container from within the box, letting the cardboard fall to the ground. It was all she had left of her biological father, Javi Torres. The day didn't look to be improving for any of them.

Andy gathered his wife impossibly close and held her tight as they watched Lydi bid her father one final goodbye. They could only imagine what was being said down below. Brian likely had some elegant words of comfort for his young wife. He had a way of turning thoughts and feelings into elegant prose. Then they saw Lydi remove the cap and hold the vessel aloft, her hand paused in midair. Andy could envision it shaking with the weight of what it was being asked to do. Then, Brian reached forward and supported his wife's hand as, together, they tipped the unglamorous container over the water, allowing the January winds to carry the ash away, leaving only the odd mix of memories in its wake.

His wife was right. Everyone needed someone to step in and do what they couldn't, every once in a while. Reaching for her hand, he squeezed it tight and said, "I don't suppose it would hurt to spend a few days in Positano. For the kids."

Their children were strong, rebounding in various ways each and every day. Though unexpected trials hurtled toward them, often more than they ever dreamed they could cope with, they stood firm. Though the people meant to love them the most seemed determined to hurt and disappoint them, there were still more who supported and uplifted them. Because of their example, they were able to raise their children, often other people's children. They loved hard and they looked into the eye of the storms that threatened with hardly a blink of the eye. Like the walls of their home, those of their hearts were reinforced one brick at a time.