Author's Note: Oh, my goodness. I really intended this to be the last chapter, but alas, there was too much to cover, so an epilogue will follow. I am still committed to finishing this story prior to the premiere of A Tale of Two Letters! I apologize for the length of this chapter. As I said, there was too much to cover. I'm not going to lie. I've fallen in love with this AU Oliver, and I hope we see some of this him in married Oliver in the new movie. And, well, Shane has always been my favorite character and I love her evolution in this story. The two of them have waited a long time to find each other. I'm reminded of this verse from Solomon 3:4. "I have found the one whom my soul loves. I held him and would not let him go." How perfect is this verse for Shane and Oliver?

As far as Joe is concerned, in this AU, he is Oliver's biological father. I know, quite a switch from the series, but this scenario just worked better for this story.

You'll notice I have used some of the dialogue from the movie(s), and I am thankful to Martha Williamson for those words and for the inspiring stories and characters she has created. Thank you to the actors who bring everything to life, and thank you to all of you for reading!

Chapter 12

As Oliver pulled her closer, his lips met hers with such intensity that it sent a dizzying rush of adrenaline through Shane. She leaned into him as much for support as to feel the warmth of his embrace.

Gasping for a breath, she rasped, "Oliver, we're standing in the middle of the parking lot at your church."

He kissed her again. "I don't care."

She pulled back. "Oliver." She adored this bolder, more carefree side of him, but she couldn't help but wonder what he would do if his choir friends caught them.

"Am I not allowed to kiss my girlfriend goodbye when I'm not going to see her until tomorrow morning?" His fingers brushed her cheek as his thumb swept across her bottom lip.

Shane shivered under his touch. "Mr. O'Toole, I will never refuse you a kiss, but if we don't stop now, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to pull myself away from you." Both had chores to attend to that had been woefully neglected all week as they spent nearly every evening together.

"Hmmm, that is an intriguing thought, Ms. McInerney," Oliver replied, "but point taken."

Being the gentleman he was, Oliver opened her car door and made sure she was safely inside before closing the door. She rolled down the window, "Goodbye, Oliver. Have a good afternoon."

He leaned down and gave her one last kiss for her to take with her.

She wasn't even a block down the street, and Shane felt the gnawing pit in her stomach. She already missed Oliver, though she'd just said goodbye to him moments before. She couldn't help but wonder how long this enamored phase of their still new relationship would last. They'd already worked through one massive hurdle of her making. Reaching out to his father had seemed like a good idea at the time, and in the end, she was sure it would prove the right thing to do.

She wasn't sure what drew her to Oliver's church this morning. Maybe she was delusional after a night of little sleep. From getting dressed to getting in the car to walking through the doors to sitting in the pew, she hesitated every step of the way. And each time, a still quiet voice nudged her. "Just go."

When she caught his eyes across the crowded room, it felt like a scene out of a romantic movie. Despite the distance, she could see his eyes crinkle and the tiny smile that worked his lips. She returned his smile with a cautious one of her own.

She had no idea how it would all play out. All she knew was that she needed to apologize, and she did so, not knowing if Oliver would accept it. But he had. Not only that, but he apologized as well and introduced her to his friends as his girlfriend. As she drove down Colorado Boulevard, an excited giggle bubbled from deep within, and she couldn't help but laugh out loud. If it were a warmer day, she might have opened the windows and shared her joy with every stranger she passed.

When she finally had a chance to relax that afternoon, after the groceries were put away and her other chores were done, she parked herself on the couch with a cup of tea. Though she should have been exhausted after her sleepless night, the endorphin rush from the passionate kisses Oliver had given her earlier still lingered, keeping her awake.

She stopped herself more than once from calling to ask him if he'd reached out to his father. She was anxious for him to connect with Joe, but she understood that putting pressure on Oliver to act more quickly than he was comfortable with would backfire. Knowing how long it took him to do something about his wife, she was surprised at how quickly their relationship had developed. But then again, maybe the timing was just right for both of them.

Meeting Joseph O'Toole had not been part of her plan. Shane was honest with Oliver when she said she didn't expect him to respond, so when he did so quickly, she panicked a bit. Oliver had last seen him over 15 years ago. Given the long absence, she felt she had reasonable cause to proceed cautiously. This led her to the decision that she would meet him first. Being a good judge of character, she reasoned that she could do an assessment and determine whether or not to tell Oliver about it.

#####

She chose a restaurant she'd been to several times before while shopping at Cherry Creek. The name alone, Flower Child, assured her there would be little chance of running into Oliver. She entered the restaurant, quickly scanning for anyone vaguely resembling Oliver. A salt and pepper-haired man sat with his back to her. As she approached, she noticed he had the same swirl of hair at the nape of his neck that Oliver had. It was the one she loved to let her fingers play with when they kissed. The only difference was the color. "Excuse me."

The man turned. Shane's jaw dropped, and her eyes grew wide. It was Oliver, only in about thirty years. His eyes were just as blue and captivating as Oliver's.

It almost seemed silly to ask, but she did so for confirmation. "Are you Mr. O'Toole?"

"I am, but please call me Joe." His smile came quickly, a bit more easily than Oliver's.

When he stood, Shane saw that he was about the same height as Oliver and had the same muscular build. He held out his hand, and Shane took it. If his looks didn't convince her he was Oliver's father, then his handshake did. As he closed his hand around hers, she could almost imagine it was Oliver's touch. There were no sparks like the ones she experienced when she and Oliver touched, but the grip had an uncanny similarity.

He helped her with her chair before taking his seat. He was a gentleman. Yet, another trait of Oliver's she supposed he learned from Joe.

"Thank you for meeting me. I'm sure this is as awkward for you as it is for me," Joe said nervously.

"Maybe more unexpected than awkward." Shane smiled. "I hope you're okay with the restaurant. Have you eaten here before?"

"Actually, I have. Not here, but there's one in Boulder, closer to where I live."

"Oh, so you don't live in Denver?" Shane knew she was staring, but she still couldn't believe the man across from her was Oliver's father.

"No, Boulder is a better fit for me. I'm more of an outdoor kind of guy than a city guy." He chuckled.

Shane laughed and felt herself beginning to relax. So, she thought that only some things about Oliver and his father were similar.

The waitress approached and each gave their lunch order.

"Oliver and I share a lot of likenesses, but our preference for where we live is one thing we differ on."

"Yes, I don't see Oliver hiking wearing one of his three-piece suits." She chuckled at the image.

"We hiked some when he was young, but he preferred to spend time with his grandparents, my parents. Oliver is very much like my father, who spent his whole career, fifty years, at the post office."

"What about you? Did you work for the postal service?" She knew he had, but Oliver said they hadn't worked together.

"I did until Oliver graduated from high school." He took a long sip of his water. "But, well, when he left for college, he made it clear that he didn't intend to come home again. Then Fed Ex made me a job offer in Memphis, and I decided there wasn't anything here keeping me from making the move."

"But you came back."

"FedEx has a great retirement package, and I missed Colorado. I miss Oliver."

Shane sympathized with Oliver's father and sensed the deep sadness in his eyes whenever he mentioned his son's name. He showed kindness and genuine sincerity whenever he spoke about wanting to see Oliver.

Their conversation paused when the food arrived. Shane observed Joe as he arranged his food and silverware in front of him. The likenesses returned.

"Does he know we're having lunch?" Joe asked.

Shane cringed. "No. I haven't said anything yet. I'm not sure how he'll react when I tell him."

"Judging from this," Joe tossed a stack of envelopes laced with rubber bands onto the middle of the table, "I don't imagine he'll be too happy about it."

Shane placed her hand on her stomach as it churned at the thought of telling Oliver what she'd done. She didn't expect it to go well either, but encouraging a father-and-son reunion was something she felt very strongly about. If she'd learned anything about Oliver O'Toole, it was that sometimes he needed some gentle nudging to do things that ultimately are good for him.

She fingered through the stack. "What are these?"

"Fifteen years of cards and letters I've sent to him, all returned to sender, unopened."

"I'm so sorry."

"Me too. I know he blames me for his mother leaving, but there's more to the story that he doesn't know."

"I see." She limited her responses and her questions. Of course, she was curious about the rest of the story, but she was already walking an incredibly fine line. Whatever happened in Oliver's family was personal, and she would have to wait for him to tell her in his own time.

"She sent postcards to Oliver for the first few years, but then we moved, and she stopped sending them. I gave her our new address, but she and her new husband just disappeared to parts unknown."

"That must have been devastating for Oliver."

"It was. I did my best to be both mom and dad, but it wasn't enough. It was made worse when she passed away. He wouldn't take any comfort from me. The divide between us continued to grow wider.

Tears stung Shane's eyes as she envisioned a young Oliver feeling lost, with no one to turn to for support. And yet, when she looked at Joe O'Toole's kind face, all she saw was a caring father who desperately missed his son and only wanted an opportunity to talk to him and reconnect after so many years apart.

Shane eyed him across the table, trying to understand his intentions. "Will you reach out to him?"

Joe's fingers tapped nervously on the tabletop. "I was hoping you might act as a go-between. I'm pretty sure Oliver won't want to talk to me. Could you say something?"

"I'm not sure I can do any better than you have in convincing Oliver to see you."

"You must care a lot for him if you tracked me down and were willing to meet with me."

"I do care about Oliver." She kept it at that. Their relationship was still in its infancy, and they still kept it private. Knowing how Oliver felt about his father, she knew he wouldn't like it if she revealed anything about the two of them.

Joe handed her a slip of paper with his name, phone number, and address on it. "When you think the time is right, please give this to him and let him know I just want the opportunity to talk to him."

#####

Her heart did a little two-step when she saw Oliver's face flash across her phone screen.

"Hello, Oliver."

"Hello, Shane. I just called to say goodnight. I trust you had a good afternoon."

She shivered as the huskiness of his voice resonated in her ear.

"I did, though it was a bit lonely," she admitted.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I experienced the same."

"What did you do this afternoon?" Her question hung in the air, and she wondered if Oliver would read between the lines.

"Just my regular weekly chores. This and that, and no, I did not."

"What?" She feigned.

He huffed lightly. "I am still contemplating the situation."

"I understand." She knew better than to expect Oliver to decide to contact his father so quickly. It wasn't his nature to do anything quickly.

"Well, I better get going. It is getting late."

She couldn't help but snicker.

"Late is a relative term, Ms. McInerney," he reminded her.

"Yes, Oliver, it is. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, you will. I plan to be at the DLO early tomorrow." She caught his subtle suggestion and eagerly anticipated the opportunity to have some quiet time with Oliver before Norman and Rita arrived.

"Duly noted, Oliver. I'll see you in the morning."

She was waiting for Oliver when he entered the DLO on Monday morning. "You're late, Mr. O'Toole." Shane sat at her desk, a smirk on her face and a twinkle in her eye.

"Nonsense, Ms. McInerney." Oliver pulled his watch that was nestled in his vest pocket. "I am twenty-seven minutes early."

Shane approached him, leaned in, and nuzzled his cheek, savoring the scent of his cologne before brushing her lips along his chiseled jawline. She whispered in his ear. "Well, I was thirty-seven minutes early."

He laughed. "Are we going to spend the week one-upping each other on how much earlier we can get to the office?"

Shane flashed him her brilliant smile. "Considering how much extra coffee I had to drink this morning to be here this early, I don't think you need to worry about me one-upping you anymore."

Oliver took a precautionary glance around the DLO before wrapping his arms around Shane's slim waist and pulling her into his arms. They kissed like two people who'd been stranded in a desert and had finally found water.

Shane reluctantly stepped back, a gentle smile spreading across her face as she watched Oliver. His eyes were still shut, and her breath hitched as she took advantage of the moment to study his face. His eyes fluttered open, and she watched the slow, lazy smile spread across his face.

"Well, Mr. O'Toole, that certainly is a good way to start the week." She ran her hand up his torso, under his lapel, and back down again.

"Starting the week, ending the week, in the middle of the week, any time is a good time to greet you like that," his lips curved into a half smile as he continued to study her features. "You truly are exquisite," he murmured as he leaned in to kiss her once more.

His lips, soft and gentle yet filled with longing, met hers in a fiery kiss.

"Mr. O'Toole, while I would love to spend the day this way, we do have work to do, and our colleagues will be here any minute now."

"That is disappointing, but you are correct. There is work to do."

They had just separated when Rita's voice could be heard excitedly sharing her experience at the prehistoric exhibit at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science with Norman.

"Oh, my goodness, Norman, they had an Allosaurus and a Stegosaurus doing battle with an 80-foot-long Diplodocus towering overhead. It was amazing!"

"Oh, wow! Hey, did you know you can find dinosaur tracks over by Red Rocks?" Norman told Rita. "There are supposed to be over three hundred of them."

"Wow, that's really cool. Maybe we could go sometime and see how many we can find," Rita suggested.

"Oh yeah, that would be great," Norman responded like a guy making plans to go to a ball game with his buddies.

Shane heard Rita's invitation and could imagine her disappointment when Norman seemed oblivious to it. She caught Oliver's attention and bobbed her head in Norman's direction with an imploring look in her eyes. Finally, Oliver caught on.

"Ah, the dinosaurs! Yes, that sounds like an excellent outing for the two of you. I'll be anxious to hear your report on what you find."

Norman nodded. "You're more than welcome to join us, Oliver. You too, Shane."

Shane glanced at Rita, whose lips were drawn into a thin, tight line. Her eyes pleaded with Shane to do something.

"Oh well, Norman, I don't know about Oliver, but dinosaurs aren't really my thing. What do you think, Oliver?"

"Uh, I'm not much of an outdoor person, but I look forward to hearing all about your adventure."

Shane winked at Oliver and caught the relief that washed over Rita's face. She wished Norman and Rita could experience the newness of a relationship as she and Oliver were. She walked over to Rita and placed a comforting hand on her arm. "It's all going to work out, Rita. I just know it."

"Thanks, Shane."

#####

Oliver walked her to her door and took his time kissing her good night. "Thank you for having dinner with me," he said.

Shane rested her forearms on Oliver's shoulders, her hands wrapped around his head and her fingers twirling in the swirl of hair at the nape of his neck. "Oliver, do you wonder how long this phase of our relationship will last?"

Oliver's brows knitted together as he considered Shane's question. "What phase?"

"You know, the 'think about you all the time, steal glances across the DLO, and sneak kisses when no one is watching' phase."

"Hmmm, I guess I haven't given it much thought. I suppose I don't consider it a phase." He brushed aside the hair that had fallen across her eyes. His eyes locked on hers. "Does it have to be a phase?"

"It's just that," she hesitated, "In the past." She shuddered.

Oliver put his finger to her lip, silencing her. "Shane, this isn't the past. Isn't it possible that whatever relationships we've had have brought us to this point?"

Shane nodded. "I suppose so."

"I'd prefer not to view our relationship as simply going through phases but rather as a journey toward something enduring and meaningful."

She gasped. "That's a beautiful way to think of it, Oliver." She leaned in and placed a gentle yet urgent kiss on his lips. "I hate to say goodnight, Oliver."

"But the sooner you do, the sooner we will be together again."

#####

Oliver was up early on Wednesday morning. Since he and Shane had begun arriving at the office before regular working hours each day, he set his alarm earlier to ensure he had enough time for his personal Bible study. He'd put aside his current study of John and had spent the last several days studying and contemplating forgiveness. He felt a bit of a hypocrite, professing to be a Christian yet not following one of the core fundamentals that Jesus taught: forgiveness. He'd done it with Holly but not yet with his father. He knew he had the opportunity to do the right thing, and today, he was going to have to dig deep to do it, regardless of what would be revealed.

The call with his father the night before had been brief.

"Hello?"

"Oliver, is that you?"

"It is." He hadn't thought much past saying hello and found himself momentarily speechless.

"Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine. I, well, I thought we might have lunch tomorrow. If you're available."

"Absolutely," Oliver noted his father's quick and enthusiastic response.

"We could meet at the Mailbox Grille at, say, noon? It's just down the street from the post office."

"No problem, I'm sure I can find it. And thank you, Oliver."

Oliver hung up, feeling the knot tighten in his stomach as he contemplated the uncertainty of tomorrow. Fifteen years had passed since he'd laid eyes on his father, and the rationale for their estrangement weighed heavily on his mind. The knot cinched tighter as the anticipation of confronting those reasons loomed.

Since he'd almost been caught by Rita last week, Oliver always did an expeditious check of his surroundings before greeting Shane in the office. His breathing relaxed when he entered the office and saw her there, clattering away on her computer.

"Good morning, Shane." He leaned over her shoulder, letting his lips find the soft spot on her neck just under her ear. She quivered and stopped what she was doing to turn in his direction.

"Good morning, Oliver. How are you this morning?"

He took her hand in his and stroked the soft, smooth skin with his thumb. "I seem to be a bit discombobulated this morning."

"What's wrong, Oliver?"

"Uh, I am meeting my father for lunch today at the Mailbox Grille," he whispered, still uncertain about the outcome.

"Oh, I see." Her hand stroked his arm, the connection soothing his frayed nerves.

"I would like to ask you if you could take Norman and Rita somewhere else for lunch."

"Of course, Oliver," she squeezed his hand. "I know this is difficult, Oliver, but you'll be glad you did this."

He met her gaze and prayed that he should have as much confidence as she did.

#####

The Mailbox Grille was crowded on a Wednesday at noon. Oliver moved past his usual booth and headed for the most private table he could find. He was a few minutes early, so he used the time to close his eyes and offer up a prayer for understanding and forgiveness. Shane's insistence that he would be glad he did this rang in his ears. He hoped she was right.

Joe O'Toole arrived right at noon. Oliver gulped as he approached his table wearing grey slacks, a plaid shirt left unbuttoned at the top, and a navy jacket. He sat frozen in his seat, unsure whether to stand and shake his hand or remain seated.

"Oliver!"

Oliver's mind was made up for him as Joe extended his hand to his son. The touch seared his skin. He'd forgotten what it was to be touched by family, and right now, Joe was the only family he had.

"Uh, thank you for meeting me."

"Thank you for calling," Joe said, sitting across from him.

Oliver stared awkwardly. His father hadn't changed much over the years other than a bit of gray in his hair. He was still in great shape and didn't look his age.

Joe finally broke the ice. "Oliver, son, I knew this would be difficult, but I came back to hopefully resolve whatever issues have stood in our way for the last fifteen years.

"That's why you came back?" If this was why he came back, he may be disappointed, Oliver thought.

"Well, that, and now that I'm retired, I wanted to be back in Colorado, close to the mountains and close to you."

"But we haven't spoken in fifteen years. How could you know that I would even see you?"

"I didn't, son, but I had faith that it would work out."

"Well," Oliver huffed, "That seems a bit presumptuous. It hasn't worked out yet." Contempt spewed from his lips.

Joe sat silently. "Oliver, I know you blame me for your mother's leaving, but there's more to the story."

Oliver jumped to his mother's defense. "What choice did she have after you told her if she couldn't do it your way, that it was over?"

"I was very much in love with your mother when we got married, but we were so young, and, well, she wanted to live a more, let's say, bohemian lifestyle that didn't include living within our marriage vows."

"Are you saying she had an affair?" Oliver's eyes narrowed, not wanting to believe his father's accusations.

Joe said nothing, but his eyes turned red. He just gave a short nod.

Oliver couldn't believe what he was hearing. At that moment, the emotional barriers he had built up to protect himself from his father's influence started to crumble. As he sat looking at Joe O'Toole, He realized that they had both gone through similar experiences with their spouses. The difference was that Joe had a son to consider, while Oliver had no one. In that instant, Oliver realized that he had taken from his father the one thing that he had left of his family and, at the same time, unintentionally denied himself the one source of support that could have helped him cope with the breakdown of his marriage.

"Listen, I've never said a bad word about your mother. I wanted you to hold on to whatever good memories you had. Neither of us was perfect. We never can be, but we came at marriage with two very different perspectives. I had the example of my parents. Your mother, well, she didn't have a good upbringing, so she did the only thing she knew to do when the going got rough. She left."

Oliver was speechless as he began to understand how his assumptions had led him to a fifteen-year estrangement from his father. He felt the sting of tears and blinked them back.

"Why did you leave the post office?"

"I didn't want to, son, but as you were growing up, I saw how much you loved and admired your grandfather. From as early as I can remember, you wanted to work at the post office." Joe paused, settling his gaze on Oliver. "I couldn't wait for us to do that together, and I was so proud that we would be father and son, carrying on the O'Toole tradition of the USPS."

Oliver felt the crushing weight of disappointment his father must have felt all because of him.

"But, when you left and vowed not to return, I knew I would never see that dream come true. When FedEx offered me a position, it was an opportunity for me to get away from the dashed dreams and memories that surrounded me here."

Oliver swiftly brushed away the tears that were welling up in his eyes, determined to regain his composure. "I'm sorry, Dad." He didn't know what else to say. All he could think was that for fifteen years, he'd missed out on a relationship with the one person who had loved him steadfastly and unconditionally, even when he hadn't deserved it. "I'm so sorry, dad."

"Oliver, I'm not telling you this to make you feel guilty. I'm telling you because I want you to understand that the very best thing I have ever done in my life was to have you and raise you as best I could. I know we've lost time, but we have plenty of time ahead of us to rebuild, and there's nothing I want more than to have you in my life again."

#####

Shane watched the clock nervously. It was 4:30. Where could Oliver be? He'd met Joe for lunch hours ago. Every nerve was buzzing as her anxiety regarding Oliver's whereabouts reached a fever pitch. Finally, she couldn't stand it any longer.

"Norman, Rita, I'm pretty tired. I think I'm going to head home a little early." She was out the door before they could respond.

Shane hopped in her car with the intention of heading home, but instead, she found herself detouring toward Oliver's church. She doubted he would be there, but deep down, she needed some peace herself, and outside of Oliver's arms, she'd found it before at Oliver's church.

She was still half a block away when she saw it. Oliver's Jag was parked on the street in front of the steps leading to those heavy wood doors, which, less than a week ago, she hesitated to enter.

She parked behind him and got out, her heart racing with the anticipation of seeing him. Would her arrival at his church be seen as intrusive? There was only one way to find out.

She found him in the third pew at the end. Exactly where he'd been sitting so many weeks ago when she first came to his church, she put a hand on his shoulder and whispered. "Oliver?"

He spun his head around, and he blinked as though coming out of a trance. She noticed his bloodshot eyes and wondered if he'd been crying.

"Am I interrupting?"

He smiled with reassurance that instantly warmed her heart.

He took her hand and kissed it. "Never, you are an answer to a prayer."

Her eyes narrowed, and deep lines were etched between them. "What do you mean?"

Oliver guided her to sit next to him. "I've been sitting here, reflecting on all that has transpired since the moment I saw you at that department head meeting. I prayed for so long that the challenges in my life would be resolved. Just when I was on the verge of losing hope, you arrived, and everything changed."

Shane tightened her grip on Oliver's hand. Her tears fell unchecked down her cheeks. She loved him so much, and she thought maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to realize he was worthy of being loved.

"How did it go with your dad?" She whispered.

"I have spent fifteen years being angry at a person that I created in my mind, and now I realize he wasn't that person at all. I blamed him for my mother leaving us when she was the one that I should have been angry with." Oliver's exhale came from deep within. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For truly understanding me well enough to know when I need an extra push. Thank you for the patience you show me when I'm stubborn. Thank you for the silent but unwavering support you always give me and for caring about me and us."

"I love you, Oliver O'Toole." They sat, hands woven together, and she rested her head on his shoulder, letting an undeniable peace settle over them.

"I love you too, Shane McInerney."