A/N: Hey guys! Hope you enjoy :)

Elizabeth

"There's not as many this year," she realizes out loud, unsure why she even says it. It's a thought that crosses her mind, though, as she's examining the presents under their Christmas tree.

Henry wraps his arm around her shoulders and rubs his palm along the top of her arm, stuffing his other hand in his pocket, "I'm sure they'll still be just as happy." The hesitation in his voice lingers in her ears like a buzzing.

She blows out a breath and uncrosses her arms, shoving her waistband down from the middle of her stomach. She's opted to wearing sweatpants and baggy shirts, and thankfully this Christmas has been cold, so she's gotten away with sweatshirts in the house with no hassle. It's only a short matter of time until Elaine catches on—if she hasn't already.

Somewhere in her mind is a logic that tells her that she needs to start telling people—that she can't wait until after she's given birth for people to find out that way. But the majority of her mind is telling her to hold on to this secret, to wait because, though she's come to terms with it some more, she hasn't fully grasped the idea that they're going to have four kids. She needs more time to figure it out, but the way her waistband is digging into her skin reminds her that she doesn't have all the time in the world.

Henry notices her discomfort and looks down, smiling a little. He tugs gently at her sweatshirt, pulling it up over her stomach. "Getting tight?" He asks, and she feels his fingers run along the indents that her sweatpants had made in her skin.

She groans a little as she rubs her thumb absentmindedly just underneath her bellybutton. Her gaze doesn't leave the tree, and she simply nods once, "Getting tight." She confirms, her voice far away.

He looks back at the tree and she hears him sigh, and it pulls her from her daze. She looks at the gifts again, and though there aren't many, it's all they could feasibly afford to do this year with the pay cut she'd gotten by switching to teaching and, though her head spins over this, a new baby on the way. Stevie was only getting more expensive the older she got, and Elizabeth's just thankful Alison still is happy with Barbie doll clothes and Jason loves Hotwheels.

She sniffles and tugs at her sweatshirt, pulling it back down and forcing Henry to move his hand. Turning away quickly, she swallows thick and rubs at her nose with the arm of her sweatshirt, busying herself with cleaning up the excess wrapping paper.

"I can do that," Henry offers as Elizabeth bends over and grabs pieces from the floor.

"I can too." She reminds him curtly, balling up the paper and bending over to pick up a piece of ribbon from the floor, too.

She hears the stairs creak and she panics, looking up and hoping that whoever is coming down those squeaky steps are not one of her kids. If it is, she at least hopes it's Stevie—she officially stopped believing in Santa Claus last year and made that revelation known to Elizabeth one day on the way home from school.

So when she sees that it's Elaine, she lets out a breath that she'd been holding in and continues to ball her papers up, "Did we wake you?" She asks softly.

"Oh no," Elaine answers, reaching the bottom step and walking toward the kitchen. "Just came down for a glass of water." She says, then laughs, "And Patrick's snoring woke me."

Elizabeth gives a look to her and shakes her head, "You know you're always welcome to put him down on the couch." She teases, and Elaine laughs at that, "I've sent Henry there a time or two."

"I was sick," he clarifies from behind her, his own ball of papers and ribbons and tape in his hand. "And she sent me to my demise all alone in the living room."

"And here you are, alive to tell the story." Elaine mutters, coming back around the corner with a glass of water in her hand and sipping at it. Elizabeth looks up and sees the smirk behind the glass, and she snorts a little at the fact that Elaine loves to tease Henry almost as much as she does.

When Elaine just lingers at the corner of the kitchen and living room, Elizabeth feels uneasy, and she takes all the excess paper and tosses it in the trash bag they'd had out. Henry is putting the scissors and roll of tape away, and Elizabeth grabs the rolls of ribbon just before Elaine says, "I think you two have something to tell me."

The ribbon skene falls out of Elizabeth's hand, rolling toward the tree and unraveling the entire way. She panics and leans down to chase it, but Henry is doing the same at the same time, and they bump into each other awkwardly. Elizabeth pauses, looking at Henry and silently asking for help with her eyes, but he has no help to offer, either. She knows they've been caught. Busted.

Elizabeth stands up slowly and furrows her brow, "What do you mean?" She's buying time, that's absolutely all she's doing. She had an inkling that Elaine has known for a while now.

Elaine lets out a breath that sounds a lot like a laugh, and she looks down and shakes her head as she walks over to the couch and plops down. Elizabeth follows her and turns around to face her, taking a deep breath as she watches Henry's mother eye them both. A feeling washes over her that is all too familiar with Elaine, and her cheeks feel hot and her ears start pulsing.

"We're going to get caught, Henry," she breathed, but didn't move an inch to push him away from her. Instead, her hands were gripping his arms as he gently moved closer to her, pressing her body between his and the brick wall behind her.

They'd been home for Christmas break only a day, and Elizabeth knew it would be hard to keep from making out with him. That's all they'd been doing since they got back to school this semester. She could barely find the time to study because she'd been wrapped around him too much, but she managed to keep her grades at an A. Henry, too, had suffered through grades, and they finally agreed that they had to block out time to study alone.

After dating for a year now, they could barely keep their hands off each other, and she was struggling to respect his wishes of waiting on sex. He always managed to bring her to a boiling point, just like he'd done now outside of his parents' home in the freezing cold weather.

As her leg was weaving around his, needing the friction against her body, she heard the door open and pulled away so quickly that her head hit the wall behind her. She looked over and saw Elaine who, undoubtedly, was hiding a smirk. "Lunch is ready," she said, and then looked at Henry, then back to Elizabeth, and then Henry once more. "Eat it while it's hot."

When she went back inside, Elizabeth looked at Henry and widened her eyes. Her cheeks were redhot and she felt her ears burning, too. There was a pulsing in her jaw that spread all throughout her head, it felt like, and she couldn't find the words. Finally she tapped Henry on the chest, "If you don't marry me soon, Henry McCord, I'm going to combust." She said that only because she knew that maybe if they were married and could get all this sexual energy out that they'd stop making out on his parents' back porch.

As that memory briefly crosses her mind now with the Christmas tree behind her, she knows that it didn't help—they still made out every chance they got.

Which is why she's now standing here as though she's that girl in college again who got caught making out with her boyfriend by his mom—one too many times making out, it seems.

"Do I have to say it?" Elaine asks, then looks at Henry and sighs, patting the couch as she looks back at Elizabeth.

Reluctantly, she makes her feet move, and she swallows thick as she goes over to sit down on the couch next to Elaine. Henry sandwiches her between himself and his mom, and his hand gently rests on her thigh as Elizabeth turns to Elaine. She tries to get some saliva in her mouth, but nothing was helping, "I wasn't in the hospital for so long just because of my own hypothermia," she starts, taking a shaky breath and looking down at her hands twiddling, catching a glimpse of Elaine's silky red and green pajama pants in her periphery. They had little Christmas trees on them. "I was there for so long because—much to my surprise—I'm pregnant, and the hypothermia almost killed the baby."

"Oh honey," Elaine says, immediately placing her glass of water on the table and then moving to wrap Elizabeth in her arms.

As Elizabeth's chin rests on her mother in law's shoulder, she feels tears heat her eyes, and she moves to wrap her arms around Elaine, too. She feels cocooned and warm and safe. She shuts her eyes and swallows hard, not realizing how badly it was affecting her not talking about the hospital stay—not talking about what happened to her and what happened to the baby. She hadn't even been able to talk about it with Henry because, though it was noble, he just got mad every time Adnan's name was brought up or the situation had resurfaced. And she can't blame him for that, but it made for a lonely battle that she couldn't mention to him yet.

Elaine's fingers are playing with the ends of Elizabeth's hair—much longer than it normally is—and she quietly hums as she lets out a breath, "I'm sure you were scared," she whispers, and Elizabeth feels her rubbing circles with her fingernails along the top of her back.

Elizabeth nods, "I was." She admits, "I am."

The second sentence comes out more shaky, barely audible at all. But Elaine pulls away gently and holds Elizabeth's shoulders, "Why did you want to keep it a secret?" She asks softly.

Elizabeth sniffles and looks at Elaine, feeling a teardrop run off her chin. She swipes at it with her sweatshirt sleeve, shrugging, "It doesn't feel real," she whispers, and now Henry's hand is sliding around her hip, gently rubbing there, too. She doesn't go without noticing that their touches are so featherlight and almost identical. "I think I've been in shock since finding out—and then the kidnapping—" her voice strangles itself and she feels the lump in her throat, so she stops abruptly and looks down.

"Honey…" Elaine murmurs, wrapping her up again.

This time, Elizabeth's head gets caught right in the middle of Elaine's chest, and she just lets out an unexpected sob. She tries to muffle it by closing her mouth, and her shoulders shake in protest. Now, Elaine is rocking her side to side, and Elizabeth just feels like she could live here forever between the love of her life and his mother.

"Did I ever tell you that my fourth was a surprise, too?" She asks gently.

Elizabeth pulls away and wipes pitifully at her face, though there was no saving it now. She shakes her head, and she feels Henry stand up and kiss her on the head. "I'll let you two talk," Henry whispers.

When Elizabeth shakes her head, Elaine waits until Henry is upstairs to continue. "Patrick and I were separated." She admits, and Elizabeth raises her brows. In all her years of knowing the McCords now, she didn't know this fact. She also didn't know how Elaine put up with Patrick, so it shouldn't come as a surprise that they did separate for a while. "He was living out of the house—Henry was ten and Shane was two. Maureen was already thirteen—right about Stevie's age, actually. Shane was our make-up baby," she admits, and Elizabeth can see the glimmer of redness in her cheeks now too as she smiles sheepishly at her daughter-in-law.

"And even with the baby, Patrick still couldn't stop drinking and coming home recklessly. So I told him I couldn't take it anymore—that he had to leave and that he would still pay for the kids' stuff but that I would find a job, too, and I'd keep the house." She explains, shrugging a little, "And it worked for a while. For four months, actually, and then one night I got lonely—I had been up to my neck in bills and even though Patrick was paying, I was stressed and, ultimately, I was lonely."

The vulnerability shows in Elaine when her voice wavers slightly, and Elizabeth feels like she should now be the one to hold Elaine's hand, but she's frozen still. "And nine months later, Erin was born. We haven't separated since."

Elizabeth looks down and swallows thick, "Well," she whispers, "Henry and I definitely weren't separated," she admits, "But he did have a vasectomy, so it came as quite the surprise to us all."

Elaine just nods, and she doesn't press anything further. Instead, she just lets them sit in silence for a few moments, and then she looks at Elizabeth intently, "Have you talked to anyone about this?" She asks, her voice shifting, somehow, to an even gentler tone.

"Not really," she admits, "Henry, of course—but the kids don't know yet and the only person who—"

"I mean about all this fear," she corrects.

Elizabeth shakes her head, "Just Henry," she whispers, waiting a beat before continuing, "But he…he just feels angry about the entire situation. About him getting me pregnant—" she pauses awkwardly, wishing she hadn't have said this to his mother. She tries to make it up by babbling on, "About the shock of it all, about…about the kidnapping and the whole…" she shakes her head, "I almost lost it, and I had known from the beginning that I felt like I was going to lose it." She says. "Will said it's because of the fear, but…" she shrugs, "He also isn't a woman and a mother."

Elaine gives her a sympathetic look, one that has seen and experienced motherhood herself. "You're right," she coos, "But sometimes it's just our fear disguising itself as a mother's intuition. And sometimes, yes, our intuition is correct." She admits, "Is everything okay with the baby now?" She asks.

Elizabeth nods, "Every doctor's appointment I've been to since the hospital has said that the baby is okay." She says, keeping her voice down a little more than she had been. She glances upstairs, ensuring that no kids were eavesdropping. "My next obstetrician appointment is this week, and we can find out the gender then too."

"Why have you not told anyone?" Elaine's voice is not accusing, and she appreciates that.

"Shock," she says, then shakes her head, "Shame."

"Shame?" Elaine asks, then lets out a caring laugh, "You and Henry have always had a beautiful love for each other, Elizabeth. If anyone is upset about this, then they are the wrong people to have in your life." She warns, "And honestly, they're probably just jealous that their husbands don't give them as much attention."

The burning in the tips of her ears appears, and she knows her face is red again, too, by the way it feels so hot. She looks down and twiddles her fingers together again, trying to force her laugh to not sound so awkward. "Life just…all came at once." She admits, twisting her lips, "You know?" She asks, looking up at Elaine.

Elaine nods, "I know," she assures, taking Elizabeth's nervous hands and cupping them between her own, "But sometimes that life is so beautiful that you can't help but wonder how it hadn't come before now." She reminds. "If you want to keep the secret, keep it." She says simply, "But not from the grandmother." She says and winks playfully.

"How long had you known for?" She asks.

Elaine raises her brows, "Oh, since Thanksgiving." She says, "Anyone who knows the two of you well enough can see it—maybe not the kids." She adds, "You had grape juice at Thanksgiving dinner," she points out, and Elizabeth is taken aback. She hadn't realized anyone had sniffed her out other than Will. "You held the glass like you were hiding something and were taking these careful little sips. That was one of the hints. Then there was the way you kept pressing your hand into your back, easing that discomfort. You said no to coffee each morning at breakfast, and you barely touched your food at all. That's not the Elizabeth I know." She teases lightheartedly, and Elizabeth bites her lip.

"And then there's my son." She sighs, "He's different around you. He's quieter and…more attentive—like he's always watching out for you even when you don't need it." She explains, "He hovers, and he was hovering at Thanksgiving, but this time…oh, the hovering is driving me crazy."

Elizabeth snorts, "He does hover," she breathes.

Elaine nods, smiling, "I knew the hover was more than just him being worried about the kidnapping, but there's that extra level too." She says, "Mothers don't miss these things."

Nodding, she thinks about the little things she notices about her own kids. Stevie has been more fierce lately, pushing back on basically everything whether it's what they're having for dinner or what she's allowed to wear to school. There's a new strength in her daughter's eyes that she's developed, a sharpness that makes her look ready to take on the world even if Stevie doesn't fully understand it yet. Ali has been the opposite—her now-quiet kid. When she was a baby, she was the typical "second kid" stereotype. She was, by far, her hardest baby. But now she's been drawing more, she's been doodling little flowers and even trying to sketch her dolls. She drew a picture of Elizabeth and Henry holding hands for their anniversary gift even. It's like she has these new emotions that she's trying to express, and drawing is the way she's doing it for now. And then Jason—he's been extra clingy lately as though he knows something is up. He's always wanting to sit on her lap or hold her hand, and he'd gotten past that phase from when he was about four. He saw his big sisters were old enough and, therefore, cool enough to not hold mom's hand, and he also wanted to be old and cool. But she's noticed all these little changes, and yes, Henry has too. These are things parents don't miss, she supposes.

Elizabeth tilts her head a little, "Why didn't you say something earlier?" She asks.

"It wasn't my business," she says, then smirks a little, "But now, it's my business." She says, standing up and going over to the hall table. She digs in her purse and pulls out a small box. The noise must've brought out Henry's curiosity because he's now coming down the stairs, eyeing the two as if he's wondering if it's safe to come down. Elaine waves him, "Come down," she says, "I wanted to give the two of you the first gift."

Elizabeth looks over at the clock ticking on the wall and sees that it's 12:36. It's Christmas anyway. She takes the box gently from Elaine's hands as Henry walks over, and though she's pretty sure she knows what it is, her hands shake. Maybe her hands are shaking because she does know what it is.

Henry's hand is resting on her shoulder as she unties the ribbon around the paper, then rips gently into the wrapping and opens the lid on the box. Reaching in, she takes out a beautiful little ornament. "Baby shoes," she whispers, blinking quickly. She looks over at the tree and tries to find where all three of the other baby shoes are hanging. It was tradition for Elaine to do this for them ever since Elizabeth was eight months pregnant with Stevie. Ali's little shoe ornament is hanging there, and so is Jason's next to Stevie's.

She looks up at Elaine and breathes out shakily, "Thank you," she whispers.

"You're welcome," she coos.

Elizabeth stands up and hugs Elaine's neck tightly, her arms shaking a little. "Seriously," she says, "Thank you."

She hopes that Elaine knows what she means—thank you for being the closest thing to a mother she could have now. She closes her eyes and thinks of her own mother, an age younger than Elizabeth now, and she clenches her eyes tighter.

"You may not be mine," Elaine whispers in her ear, "But you're Henry's, and therefore mine, too."

Henry

After they've said their goodnights once more to his mom, he and Elizabeth make their way up the stairs while Elaine hangs back on the couch for a little while longer. He looks from behind his wife as she walks up the stairs, noticing her clutching that baby-shoe ornament tightly, though the booties are hanging down from her fingers and swinging beside her leg.

Once in the safety of their bedroom, he turns to shut the door quietly. When he turns back around, she's standing right there. It startles him enough to make him jump just slightly, but he can't say anything because she's planting her lips on his. He feels the booties dangling against his back now as her fingers wrap around the back of his neck, and she leans into him until he stumbles back and hits the door.

He laughs as he pulls away, "What was that for?" He asks.

"I just love you," she admits, "You gave me a family."

As she makes her way over to the bed, he watches her. She sets the ornament down on her bedside table before pulling her sweatshirt over her head and taking her shirt off underneath, unhooking her bra and catching him staring. She shimmies the bra down her arms and pops her eyebrow, "Are you joining me?" She asks, "Or do I have to do this all by myself?"

Is that an invitation?

He feels like a puppy who's being enticed with a squeaker. But he's standing there, still, and just dumbfounded at her beauty. At how she's thanking him for giving him a family, when she's the one who's done so much of the work.

"How are you thanking me?" He asks.

"What?" She asks, sounding as though she's caught off guard by his question. She's kicking out of her sweatpants and sliding her fingers into the waistband of her underwear.

"How are you thanking me?" He asks again, adding more emphasis. He walks over to her side of the bed and kicks her sweatpants out of his way, placing his hands on top of hers that were still resting in the band.

The way she smiles at him makes him feel like his legs are going to buckle, but he tries to ignore that and focus on his question before he lets himself dive into her. "Maybe this baby was a shock," she says. Understatement of the year. "But ultimately, you gave me this family, Henry." She whispers, "Even without the kids—I never…" she twists her lips and lays her hands on his chest, leaving the waistband, "She's the closest thing I'll ever have to a mother again." She admits.

Henry nods slowly, now tracking with what she's saying. He leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead, "I can't imagine not sharing my family with you," he whispers, "As dysfunctional as they are…" he adds with a snort.

She laughs, too, and reaches up to lay her hand on his cheek. "I have a request for my second Christmas gift." She whispers.

He raises one brow, moving his fingers into her waistband of her underwear now, "What would that be?" He asks.

Her hand slides down his shoulder, his arm, and finds his hand. She gently pulls it from the waistband and moves it down, closer to her center, and he has to steady his breaths as he feels her get warmer and warmer. When she stops his hand, he lets it rest there before looking into her eyes, "Have you been naughty or nice?" He asks playfully.

She smirks, biting her lip before looking down at her stomach. "Well," she says, and Henry is already laughing at the irony of his question and what she's about to say, "I think it depends on who you ask."

He's peppering kisses down her neck as she finishes that statement, down her chest and to her breasts as he slides her underwear down her legs with that other hand. "Being naughty with me means you've been nice." He reasons.

"And that comes from the Aristotelian scholar." She adds.

He can't answer her now, though, because her breast is in his mouth and he's sucking like he's been starved to taste her. As she steps out of her underwear, he lays her back gently on the bed, and her legs immediately wrap around his hips.

As he's wishing that he would've undressed first, his mouth around one breast and his hand around the other, his eyes pop open. The liquid he feels on his tongue surprises him, and he looks at Elizabeth in shock and finally laughs as she's asking what's wrong. "I—" he says, taking her breast that he'd been working his mouth over and squeezing at her nipple, showing her.

He watches her widen her eyes and groan, "Great," she murmurs, "Because breastmilk is so much fun."

He feels her mood shift and he just laughs quietly, knowing that she is still struggling with all the changes that yet another pregnancy brings. "I won't lie," he says, "It's kind of fun for me."

She looks at him and starts to laugh, then bites her lip. "Why's that, Dr. McCord?"

He feels a ripple of heat shoot through his body when she calls him that. Maybe it's an ego thing, but he loves when she addresses him like that—and she knows he loves it, which is why her hips are rolling against his right now.

He doesn't have to answer, he decides. Not verbally at least. He just leans down to the other breast and starts working his mouth on that one, listening to her moans as his hips instinctually start thrusting against hers. All this clothing he's wearing is a real downer, but he doesn't want to stop. Not now, not while he's giving her the Christmas gift she asked for. So he leaves his own Christmas gift and moves his mouth down, kissing all the way down her ribs and her side until he hits her hips.

He feels her shudder when he places the tip of his tongue on her hipbone, and she shudders again when he drags it further down and stops only when he reaches between her legs. "Merry Christmas," he murmurs, sliding his arms underneath her thighs before giving her the most complete gift without ever having to use any ribbon.

Elizabeth

She'd gotten up some time after Henry had fallen asleep. Her mind was unable to calm down until she'd gotten up and walked around a little, re-dressing and readying herself for her kids to come wake them up in only mere hours like they always do Christmas morning.

And, like clockwork, all three of them were jumping into the bed at 6:00. "It's Christmas!" Jason shouts, and Henry is groggily looking around as though this is a surprise to him. This has been the tradition for years, but based on his expression, you'd think he was brand new to all this.

She smiles and moves her son to where he's not bouncing on her stomach, immediately worried over the baby. "It's Christmas," she coos back, "Merry Christmas, you guys." She says, reaching over and hugging Stevie and then kissing Ali's cheek.

"Momma," Ali says, nestling herself between Henry and Jason, "What are those?"

Elizabeth looks over in the direction where Ali was looking and sees the ornament on her bedside table. She gasps quietly and almost chokes herself, looking at Henry nervously for something to say. Henry's mouth is gaping, and neither of them can find the words.

"Are you pregnant?" Stevie asks, sitting on the foot of the bed on her hands and knees. She sits back on her feet, "Oh my God, you're pregnant." She realizes when they're not saying anything.

"I—we wanted to tell you guys when—"

"Mommy's having a baby?" Jason asks, looking at Stevie and then at Henry. When no one moves, he says it again, and Elizabeth just blinks in disbelief. How did I forget to move those?

Henry is sitting up now and grabbing onto Ali and Jason both, and he's outstretching his other arm for Stevie, but she just sits and stares at him. Determinedly, he looks at her more intensely and stretches his arm a little straighter, and finally Stevie uncrosses her arms and unwillingly crawls over to him. He wraps his arms around them all as Elizabeth sits up, too, and carefully takes the ornament in her hands.

"Mommy is having a baby," Henry says gently, looking at Jason first since he's the one who asked. Then he looks at Stevie, "And we're happy about this, okay?"

Elizabeth studies Stevie's expression and knows that fierceness is about to show its head again, and at a full force. "On purpose?" She chides.

Neither of them know what to say to that, and they're both hoping the other can come up with something. She swallows thick and moves the booties in her hands, "We didn't want to tell you yet," she says, trying to change the subject. "We were waiting because there were some things that happened." She admits, looking at Henry nervously. She stretches her neck in a nervous tick way, trying to crack it as she chooses her words carefully, "We think the baby is healthy, but we weren't sure for a little while. We still aren't totally sure." She tries to explain gently, "That's why we were—"

"I'm going to be a big brother!" Jason realizes finally, and the excitement is like him shouting that it's Christmas all over again. Elizabeth can't help but laugh and also be grateful for him breaking her streak of stuttering and stumbling to try to find out a way to explain this to them.

"You are," Elizabeth smiles.

Alison is shimmying out of Henry's arms and moving over to Elizabeth, and she watches as her daughter takes the blanket off her. Elizabeth feels like she's been stripped of protection when Alison does that, but she lets her, and she lets her satisfy her curiosity even though Elizabeth herself is going rigid. Her little not-so-baby hands tug at Elizabeth's sweatshirt and Elizabeth sits up a little straighter to be able to show them the proof. "There's a baby in there," Ali says happily, half-question and half-statement.

"There is," Elizabeth says, smiling at her daughter. She looks over at Henry who is beaming, and her heart feels like it may explode from this moment, from the sweetness of seeing the love of her life holding her kids while Ali is stating the obvious. Stevie, however, is glaring at her, but Elizabeth expected that. She knew Stevie would take it the hardest.

She swallows hard and takes a deep breath, "Do you guys want to go downstairs and tell Grammy and Grandpa the news?" Elizabeth asks, enticing them with the telling of a secret even though Elaine knows. She knows, too, that Elaine will act surprised as though she's never heard the information before, and the rest of the McCords will also be shocked. She's sure their kids, too, have all gotten them out of the bed, and Erin will be dragging out of bed sometime soon, too.

"Yes!" Alison says, and she watches as she and Jason race off the bed and through the bedroom door, and then hears their feet stomping down the stairs as quickly as they could go.

Elizabeth looks over at Stevie who is still sitting there, her arms crossed. "Go ahead," she says softly, not trying to antagonize her. "I know this isn't something you are excited about."

"Less than," Stevie mumbles, and Elizabeth's heart feels a little tighter.

"Be nice," Henry warns.

Elizabeth appreciates Henry's guidance, and she pulls her sweatshirt back down and looks at Stevie.

"I'm going downstairs," she says, and Elizabeth starts to reach out but Henry gently takes her hand.

"She'll come around," he says softly.

She just looks at him as she hears Stevie's footsteps go down the stairs, sighing and shaking her head, "Maybe," she says, "Or maybe not."