Winter

To say that Kate was nervous about going to Philadelphia was an understatement. As the date neared, she found her thoughts drifting to the last time she had been on a train. It was shortly after Pat had left in the middle of the night and she had taken the train to stay with Sarah, a woman she had hardly known at the time. She was grateful at the way everything turned out but the train ride was far from a pleasant memory. And now she was about to step into a world even more unfamiliar. A world of finely dressed people and massive ornate houses and food so expensive as to be unrecognizable. It was Cal's world.

And if all of that wasn't terrifying enough on its own, there were his sons. Would they like her? She was clearly not one of them and she knew how badly she would stand out. What if they didn't like her? Could they convince Cal to leave her? Would they make him realize how unsuited she was? She had once brought up her worries. Cal assured her she was worrying over nothing but that reassurance did little to stop the continuous train of thought.

The one thing that she was certain of was that she needed a new dress. Everything she currently owned was fine for wearing around Spokane but none of her dresses were appropriate for Philadelphia. Many she had made herself and they weren't nearly nice enough. As the self-proclaimed expert on looking nice, Bridget insisted on going shopping with her.

Kate tried on several dresses of various materials. Silk, satin, organdy, cotton. She couldn't help but look at herself in the mirror wearing the most expensive dress and imagining what it would be like to own something so fine. But then reality set it and she settled on a pale green tea dress made of organdy and covered in tiny white flowers. She put it on and stood in front of the mirror, turning first one way and then the other, trying to see herself as someone else might. She traced her fingers along her collarbone and wished that her pearls had come from anyone other than Hugh. They'd go so well with the dress.

"You look like a princess," Bridget said.

Kate didn't feel like a princess. Princesses didn't have strands of gray running through their hair. Princesses didn't look tired and worried the majority of the time. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. It had been twenty-five years since she had left Ireland, looking for something better. Nineteen years since she lost Daniel and all of her dreams had died. How was it possible for time to move so quickly? It certainly hadn't seemed that way when she was young. The realization that she was no longer young suddenly struck her and she felt a tightness start in the back of her throat. She took a deep breath to compose herself.

"You don't look bad," Bridget insisted, mistaking her emotion. She circled around her, studying closely. "Maybe you need a hat. I'll go get one." She left then returned a moment later, a small round felt hat in her hands. "It was crooked on the mannequin so you have to wear it crooked or it won't work."

Kate laughed as she set the hat on her head.

"More crooked than that."

"How's this?" She tilted it at an angle.

"Hm…almost." Bridget tapped her lips with her finger. "Oh, I know. You need a necklace full of diamonds and rubies and broaches. Lots of broaches."

"I don't think we can be affordin' any of that."

"I'll buy them for you," Bridget said confidently. "Someday, I mean. When I'm a millionaire."

Kate smiled. "I look forward to it."


Sarah was trying to sleep but beside her Pat was restless. She tried to ignore him, to clutch him tighter in an attempt at holding him still, but nothing worked and she was worried. She knew that he hadn't been sleeping well for quite some time but he never spoke to her about it. Just tossed and turned beside her.

Finally, Pat sighed and started to get out of bed.

Sarah immediately placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

"I was just fetchin' a glass of water," he said.

"No, you weren't."

"Sarah—"

"Please stay here and talk to me."

He looked at her as he considered then shook his head. "I'll just go back to sleep then," he said, settling down beside her.

Sarah immediately sat up and switched on the bedside lamp. "I know you're not sleeping," she said. "I know you like to slip out in the middle of the night to talk to the turkey or whatever it is you've been doing but this has to stop." She touched his arm. "You have to talk to me."

Pat remained silent.

"Why can't you trust me?"

He turned to look at her. "I do trust ye. I just…" He hesitated. "I've put ye through enough already. I don't need to be burdenin' ye with everything on me mind."

Sarah laid back down beside him. "If you think that keeping me in the dark is stopping me from worrying about you, you're wrong," she said. "I love you and I will worry about you until the day I die. And not just you. I'll worry about John and Eileen and Kate and Cal and every single one of their children because I love all of you and that's what love does." She rested her head on his shoulder. "Please tell me. Is it the ship? The asylum?"

There was a pause as Pat lightly traced his fingers along her arm. "It's Hugh."

"Hugh?" She looked at him in surprise.

"It's…" He took a deep breath. "It's not that I regret doin' what I did but I close me eyes and maybe I shouldn't have done it."

"There was nothing redeemable inside that man."

"He was always kind to John," Pat pointed out.

Sarah sighed. "He may have been kind to John but he regularly hit Tommy. His children were terrified of him. And you remember how he treated your sister? No, a one time kindness is not a redeeming quality. It's a fluke."

"I still shouldn't have—"

She interrupted him with a kiss. "You're a good man and I understand why you feel so troubled," she said. "But you need to put it out of your mind. You did the right thing."

"And if I can't?" Pat asked in a whisper. "I can't go back to that place. I can't do it. I won't do it."

Sarah held him tighter. "You're never going back to that place."

"But what if–"

"Patrick Murphy, you are mine and I will never let someone take you away from me again. I won't allow it." She spoke firmly. Memories of that time were still too clear in her mind and she refused to ever feel so helpless again.

"Sarah–"

"If someone tries, I will burn the place to the ground."

"Hopefully without me in it."

"That'd be the idea but I can't make any promises," she replied with a small laugh.

After a moment, Pat laughed as well. He gently brushed his fingers across her cheek. "God, yer beautiful," he said softly. "If I had a choice, I'd never think of anything but yerself."

Sarah smiled. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"It sometimes seems so impossible, how could I ever forget it?" He replied. "I love ye too."

She nestled against his shoulder and let out a sigh, closing her eyes. "Now, no more talking to the turkey."

"Well, I can hardly stop him from speakin' to me but…" Pat kissed the top of her head. "I'll do me best."


Dearest Cal,

I won't mince words with you. I dislike living here. I miss my parents and I miss my friends. I miss having a purpose. I cannot find a job because no one wants to hire a woman, or so it seems. Fabri talks constantly about how progressive and wonderful Italy has become but, at least in New York, I could do something aside from raising children. I wish I could make him understand how I feel. Whenever I bring it up, he tells me that I need to adjust but we've been here long enough that I am fairly certain to be finished adjusting. But he doesn't understand. You see, he's made himself a group of friends and is rarely home except for evenings.

We have had another daughter and named her Beatrice. I told Fabri that I'm finished having children. If I happen to find myself expecting again, he can go ahead and give birth to it himself because I won't do it. She is beautiful though with her large, dark eyes and she hardly ever cries. I wish you could meet her.

The next time you write to Fabri, please describe how wonderful Spokane is. Use the word 'progressive' as much as possible. Perhaps you can convince him to move us there. It's not New York but it's a step closer to home.

All our love,

Lelia


No matter how much John tried, he couldn't seem to sort out why it bothered him so much that Dottie was marrying Jimmy. He knew firsthand that Jimmy treated her well. And Dottie was his closest friend. He wanted her to be happy and he wanted the best for her. But whenever he tried to picture her walking down an aisle with Jimmy by her side, his stomach turned over. It didn't make any sense. He knew that he needed to speak to someone who understood women. Unfortunately, his only choices were Pat and Cal and he didn't know how helpful either one would be.

John found Pat in the backyard, ankle deep in snow and chopping firewood. "Can I talk to you?"

"Aye," Pat said, leaning on his ax. "What about?"

"I don't know."

"That might make it a bit hard to talk."

John looked back at the house and briefly considered giving the whole conversation up. The last thing he wanted was to be told that he was in love with Dottie again. He was fairly certain that if he was in love with her, he'd know it. But then he thought of Jimmy and he kicked at the snow. "Dottie's going to marry Jimmy."

"Ye think so?"

"They both say they are."

"And that bothers ye?"

John shrugged. "I don't know."

Pat shook his head. "John, if ye love her, ye need to tell her."

"I don't love her." It was infuriating the way everyone kept bringing that up. He could only deny it so many times.

"Yer bothered by her marryin' Jimmy."

"Only because I don't like him any."

"Hm." Pat picked up the ax once again. "Well, I think the two of ye are well-suited."

"That doesn't matter."

"John—"

"It's just...maybe I might be...I don't know," John stammered. He could feel his face growing warm. "I've never given it any thought and it's not like I've ever been in love before. I mean, how would I even know in the first place?"

"Are ye miserable when yer away from her? Are ye happy to see her? Do ye think about her constantly?" Pat rattled off the questions. "When ye think of yer future, is she a part of it?"

"I don't know," John replied. "I guess I'm bored when she's not here. And we've been friends for so long. I just sort of assumed it'd always be us. But I never thought like that and now Jimmy's always getting in the way." He let out a breath. "It should just be the two of us."

"John, ye love her."

"Oh." There was something in the direct way that his father said it, that made it seem more real, more believable. Something he had denied so fervently suddenly seemed possible, even likely. "Well, it doesn't matter. She's marrying Jimmy and I have Helen."

"Sure, if ye want to give up," Pat said. "But I think ye might be better off if ye just speak to her."

"Probably wouldn't change anything." He thought of the years he had already spent trying to convince Dottie that Jimmy was no good.

"Maybe not, but at least ye'll know one way or another. Now, why don't ye bring inside some of this wood."

"Alright." The idea of telling Dottie that he might love her seemed like a pointless endeavor but, as he gathered up an armful of firewood, he tried to imagine her telling him that she loved him as well. She'd almost have to leave Jimmy if that were the case.

Spring

The train ride to Philadelphia was uncomfortable. Kate had insisted on bringing Evy with them. Cal suspected that all of the children would've been accompanying them if the rest weren't old enough to be in school. Bridget and Henry had both thrown a fit at being left behind but after several promises to bring back something nice for them, they were mollified.

Kate sighed for the hundredth time. "I just keep thinkin' about the dresses I brought," she said. "I think they might be too casual."

"I'm sure they're perfectly fine," Cal assured her. Evy sat on his lap, her face pressed to the window as she watched the scenery fly by.

"But what if we need to be dressin' up? My new one is nice enough but I'm not sure it's enough," she said. "I'll stand out so much."

"We won't need to dress up, I promise. We're not going to any parties," he replied. "We may not even need to leave the hotel." He didn't know how possible it would be to conduct his business at the hotel they were staying at, but he preferred to avoid his former home and as many people who might recognize him as possible. He was already nervous enough about going back. "Maybe we shouldn't have come?" His worry slipped out. "Is this a terrible idea?"

"No," Kate replied. "It's a fine idea." She turned her attention to the window. "I'll just feel better once we're home again."

"Me too."

They reached Philadelphia and checked into a hotel. Almost at once a telegram arrived.

"Request company tomorrow evening 8 pm. Bring wife. Victor," Cal read aloud. He didn't know if he was more surprised by the speed of the telegram—someone must've been keeping an eye on the train schedule—or by seeing his oldest son's name on the page. After Victor's last letter, he wouldn't have thought his son wanted anything more to do with him.

"Do we have to go?" Kate asked.

"Of course we do," he replied. "I'm sure it's only dinner and it's only Victor. We can both handle dinner."

"And Evy? Is she invited?"

Cal looked at their toddler who was currently napping on the bed. "The house has a nursery—"

"I'm not droppin' me child in a strange nursery."

"She'll be fine."

"I won't do it," Kate snapped. "And she's yer child too. Ye're truly fine to leave her alone with strangers?"

Cal thought of the sort of people he grew up with and sighed. "Alright," he said softly. "She'll stay with us and we'll sort something out."

She still looked worried. "I still don't...want to go."

"Kate." He took her hand. "I promise if anything goes wrong, we'll leave at once."

"I thought ye said it's only dinner. What could go wrong?"

"I don't know...undercooked chicken," Cal replied. "It'll be fine, I promise." He hoped he was right but still felt uneasy.


They had all waited for the train to rattle past before climbing out onto the trestle that crossed over the river. For a moment they all stood in silence on the tracks, looking down and feeling a collective thrill from being where they shouldn't have been.

Tommy closed his eyes against the cool breeze that blew over them. It was better than being at home.

"I dare you to jump," Warren said suddenly.

"I'm not doing it," Harry replied. He stood the farthest from the edge, looking nervous. "I'll break my neck."

"Robbie?"

Robbie shook his head. "I'd rather let one of you guys go first."

"Tommy?"

Tommy had been sitting on the tracks, feeling the cold metal beneath him and hardly paying attention to the conversation. But he looked up suddenly at the mention of his name. "Why don't you jump?

"Because I'm the one doing the daring," Warren explained. "Now, you're the youngest so I think you should go first."

He looked over the edge. "It's too high." Tommy thought of what his mother would say if he were to break his neck and he was certain that death would've been preferable.

"Oh, don't be such a chicken."

"How am I the chicken when none of you guys are willing to do it?"

"Come on, you've always been chicken shit about these sorts of things," Warren replied. "We all know it."

Tommy looked around at the group, all of them staring at him, then down at the dark water below. He knew he wasn't chicken because a chicken wouldn't have shot anyone. Thoughts of Hugh filled his mind. He could nearly feel the gun in his hand. He had shot someone. He had shot someone and no one seemed to care. Not his mother, not Cal. No one had brought it up and whenever he did, the whole event was brushed off as though it didn't matter. It had to have mattered.

"Tommy!" Harry shouted to him. "Jump already."

"Fine." He looked back at the water, took a deep breath, and stepped off the edge.

The river was shockingly cold but not unbearable. For the briefest of moments, Tommy stayed beneath the water where it was quiet, dark, peaceful. Then, when his lungs began to burn, he kicked to the surface, breaking through to shouts from above. He took a deep breath and swam to the bank. He had done it. He climbed out of the water slightly out of breath and cold but feeling surprisingly free.

There was a loud splash behind him as someone else jumped followed by two more. Everyone swam to shore, laughing with each other and congratulating Tommy on being the first.

Tommy couldn't keep the grin from his face. He had actually done it and he had done it first. "Anyone want to go again?"

"I'd rather get something to eat," Robbie replied.

"How about Wilson's?" Warren suggested.

"I hate Wilsons," Harry said.

"Well, I hate every other place."

Tommy listened to their argument as he tried to wring his shirt out. It didn't matter where they ate, if they ate. All that mattered was that he had jumped when no one else was willing.


Cal had paid for a taxi to drop them off at the end of the drive rather than pulling up to the house itself. Kate wasn't sure if he was ashamed to be seen stepping out of a taxi or if he simply needed more time to prepare himself for seeing the place again. She suspected it was a combination of the two. Regardless, they approached slowly as Evy insisted on walking herself, her little hand held tightly in Cal's.

As they turned a corner and the house came into sight, Kate's mouth fell open. The brick building was larger than anything she had seen before and she found it difficult to believe that one person could live in such a place. "This is truly yer house?" She asked. "It looks like a hotel."

"Not anymore," Cal replied.

"But ye were raised here?"

"I was."

"I can't imagine what that must've been like. I think ye must get lost all the time," she said. "Now which window did ye jump out of when ye were little?"

"One around the back," Cal replied abruptly, sounding and looking uncomfortable.

"Oh." She had wanted to push the question but thought better of it.

They reached the door. Cal picked up Evy and knocked. "Seems strange to knock at my own door. I mean, what used to be my own door."

The door opened revealing a well-dressed man. He looked them up and down. "They're expecting you," he said at last.

"They?" Kate whispered. "I thought ye said it'll be only Victor?"

Cal shrugged. "Maybe Arthur's here as well."

They were led into a sitting room filled with expensive looking furniture, all upholstered in a floral pattern with delicately carved legs. Massing paintings covered the walls and a glittering chandelier hung from the ceiling. But Kate ignored all of it, her attention, instead, on the people filling the chairs.

A young man immediately rose from his seat and approached them. "My apologies for catching you off guard," he said. "I had intended on this being a bit more intimate but everyone was eager to meet the woman you left mother for."

"I didn't leave your mother for a woman," Cal replied.

"No? My mistake."

Kate could feel everyone's eyes on her and she was suddenly very conscious of her green dress. How could she have worn something so clearly out of place? Every other woman in the room wore dresses of satin or silk. None of theirs were covered in flowers.

"This is Victor," Cal introduced him. "Victor, this is Kate, my wife."

Kate managed a smile that she was certain must've looked unconvincing as the young man didn't return it.

"I see," he said. "Now, if you could…" Victor's gaze landed on Evy. "Hand her off, there's a few gentlemen you must meet. They're in the industrial line."

Cal handed Evy to Kate. He gave her an apologetic look as he followed his son to the other end of the room.

She remained in the doorway, Evy in her arms, unsure what to do or where to go.

A tall woman stood and looked at her. "So you're Kate."

"I am."

"You're welcome to have a seat."

Kate sat on one of the fancy chairs with her daughter on her lap. A man handed her a drink and she took a polite sip. The woman continued to stare. "Can I help ye?"

"Likely not," the woman said. "I'm just trying to sort you out. I mean, you clearly don't come from wealth. No one has ever heard of your family name…any of your family names. It is surprising how often you've been married. You're not even American, are you?"

"I'm Irish but I've lived here for twenty-five years now." Kate was uncomfortable with how much the woman knew and looked to Cal for help but he wasn't paying any attention.

"Hm." The woman pondered over her glass. "So what precisely is it about you that makes a man so willing to throw away his entire life?"

"What?" Kate looked around the room at everyone watching her. "I suppose I'm kind and…I'm an excellent cook."

The woman snorted. 'No one throws away everything and everyone they know for kind. And excellent cooks are a dime a dozen."

"Dinah, stop interrogating that poor girl," a man sitting nearby jumped in. "She can't help her nature."

Kate felt her face grow red and she tightened her grip on Evy who squirmed on her lap.

The man immediately launched into a tirade against the Irish in the city but she was no longer listening. She looked at Cal again but he was engaged in a conversation with Victor and two other men, a glass of wine in his hand. He was drinking. After everything they had been through, he was drinking.

She pushed the feeling of betrayal aside and rose from her seat. "If ye'll excuse me," she said. "I need a bit of air."

Dinah immediately gestured to one of the servants who followed her out of the room and into the hall.

"I'm not goin' to take anything if that's what yer watchin' for. Where's the door?"

The man pointed but didn't respond.

Kate stepped outside into the cool night air and took a seat on the steps. Evy sat beside her. She wished so much that they hadn't come. They should have known better. They should have known that his ex-wife would have been there. If she had known, she would've stayed home and no amount of convincing on his part could have changed her mind. She looked down at her dress again, the one that Bridget said made her look like a princess, and sighed. Of course no one would believe that Cal would settle for someone like her.

There was a crunch of gravel and she looked up to see a young man approaching.

He stopped in front of her and gave her a look. "Are you lost?"

"No, I just needed a bit of air," Kate replied.

He looked confused, his gaze going from her to Evy and back again.

"I was inside and then I had to step out," she tried to clarify. "I was invited, I promise."

"I don't doubt it."

Kate studied the young man. He stood there awkwardly, a portfolio held under one arm. There was something of Cal in him and a sudden realization came over her. "Are ye Arthur, by any chance?"

"I am."

"I'm Kate. I married yer father a year ago."

Arthur smiled suddenly. "You're the one who wrote to me." He looked around the dark grounds. "Is he here?"

"He's inside with yer brother and a whole lot of other people and I think perhaps yer mother."

"And you left him alone with them?"

"More like he left me alone with them," she said. "But I had to leave. I couldn't be in there a moment longer."

"Well, we should both go in then because running away rarely works," he said. "I would know. I've tried it before."

"Perhaps ye just didn't run far enough."

"Perhaps." He looked down at Evy tugging at the portfolio in his arms.

"Evy, that's not yours," Kate quickly said as she tried to pull the toddler back.

"It's alright." Arthur lowered himself to her level. "You want to see what's inside?"

"Yeah."

He opened it to reveal several sketches.

Kate moved closer to see better. "Did ye draw those?"

"I did."

"They're wonderful."

Evy reached and carefully touched one of the pages, a sketch of a horse. "Wow," she murmured.

"How'd ye learn how to do that?" Kate was in awe. Cal had never mentioned either of his children being talented.

Arthur smiled sheepishly. "I used to sketch around the margins of my textbooks instead of reading them when I was in school," he admitted. "It was good practice for my drawings but not so great for my grades." He closed the portfolio and straightened out. "We really should go in. If my mother truly is in there, she'll tear my father to pieces if we leave them alone for too long."

"Even with witnesses in the room?"

"Absolutely. She loves an audience."

They returned to the room, still as full as before and Kate hesitated in the doorway. She watched as Victor gestured to a servant to refill Cal's glass. She didn't know how many drinks he had had but knew him well enough to know that he was already drunk. She pushed her way through the room and took the glass from his hand. "It's time to go," she said, trying to sound assertive. "You've had enough."

"That's rather rude of you," Victor replied.

"I haven't had that much," Cal insisted.

"Not that much is still too much," Kate said. "I want to go now."

"Alright." Cal stood, unsteady on his feet. He stuck out an arm to steady himself, inadvertently knocking a vase from the table. It shattered on the ground and a silence fell over the room.

"Of course," Dinah said loudly. She rose from her seat and approached them. "Of course, you can't set foot in this house without causing a scene. I shouldn't need to tell you how incredibly inappropriate it is to be flaunting your new…her…in front of everyone but now you're also drunk to boot. I know I shouldn't be surprised. You clearly lost your mind years ago. There's no other excuse for your behavior," she said. "God, I should've had you locked up in the madhouse when I had the—"

Kate slapped her. "How dare ye speak to him that way? If anyone deserves to be locked up, it's yerself. Yer nothin' but a rotten, gold diggin'...bitchand ye've clearly made a pact with the devil because otherwise ye'd have been murdered years ago. God, I wish I could strangle ye with me own hands because yer death would do the whole world a favor."

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I understand a single word of that," Dinah replied. "Not with that Irish accent of yours."

Kate looked at the glass of wine in her hand. "I see. Well..." She flung the drink at her. "Did ye understand that?"

A look of shock crossed Dinah's face, replaced immediately by anger. "How dare you? Get out of my house," she fumed. "You have thirty seconds before I call the police and have you arrested for trespassing."

"We'll go," Kate replied. "Don't want to be here anyway. Evy?" She looked around but the toddler wasn't anywhere to be seen."

"I have her here." Arthur pushed through the crowd, his portfolio still in one arm and holding onto Evy's hand with his other.

"God, what are you doing here?" Victor turned on his brother.

"I live here."

"I mean, why are you in this room at this precise moment? I didn't invite you."

"Oh, would you shut up?" Arthur snapped. "I can go where I please."

Cal moved to sit back down but Kate grabbed his arm. "No, we're leavin'." She could feel everyone's eyes on her and there was a burning in the back of her throat. But she refused to cry in front of everyone.

"Here." Arthur took Cal's arm and helped him from the room.

Kate picked up Evy and quickly followed them. "I've never been so humiliated," she said as they left the house. "This was a terrible idea. We shouldn't have come."

"To the party, I agree," Arthur said. "But to Philadelphia? I'm glad you came."

"I think yer the only one."

"Where's your car?"

"We took a taxi here and we were plannin' on walkin' back to hotel afterward."

"Oh."

"I can manage from here." She was already ashamed enough.

"I don't mind," Arthur said. "It's better than being in there."

They walked back in silence with Cal leaning on his son, struggling to stay conscious.

"Yer family's lovely," Kate said. Evy had fallen asleep in her arms.

Arthur laughed. "If you think they're lovely now, you should come back for Christmas."

"I think I'll pass," she replied. "But yer always welcome in Spokane. Might not be quite what yer used to but I am a good cook."

"I think on it."

They reached the hotel and climbed the stairs to their room. "Where'd you want him?" Arthur asked.

"Sofa," Kate replied. "And on his side, if ye will. I'd like him to survive the night." She set Evy on the bed.

Arthur laid him down and the man promptly passed out.

"Thank ye," she said, as she removed Cal's shoes. "I truly am sorry about…he's not supposed to be drinkin' anymore and I really shouldn't have done what I did."

Arthur shrugged. "My mother has that effect on people."

"Then that truly was yer mother?"

"Of course," he replied. "Who else could be so nasty while also looking like the victim?"

"In that case, I wish I had done worse to her," Kate said. "After the way she'd treated Cal for all of those years. I couldn't imagine keepin' me children from their father. It must've been miserable growin' up with her."

"Kate, I love my father and I admit that my mother is about as far from a saint as someone could get, but my father was far from blameless."

"What do ye mean?"

"When we were home, he was rarely around."

"Yer mother kept you away from him."

"She did, quite often," Arthur said. "But even when we were here, he was always in New York or at some bar, drinking. And when he was home, he and mother spent the majority of the time arguing. No." He shook his head. "If our childhood was anything but pleasant, they both played a part in it."

"I see." She didn't want to see. She wanted Cal's reality to be the truth. She looked at him, sleeping on the sofa and wondered how much he was aware of it. Of how much of a part he had played in his family's troubles.

"I should go. Where's my portfolio?" He looked around the room.

Evy sat on the bed with the portfolio on her lap. She had found the sketch of the horse once again.

"You really like that one, don't you?" Arthur asked.

She nodded as she handed it back.

"How long are you staying?" He asked Kate.

She sighed. "It was supposed to be another two weeks but I wouldn't mind goin' home early. I miss me other children."

"You have more children?"

"Three more. Tommy is me oldest. He's eighteen now. Henry's twelve and Bridget's nine."

"I see." Arthur lingered in the doorway. "I hope I get to see you at least once more before you leave."

"I hope so too."


Cal woke the next morning and his immediate thought was that he must have died. He had a fuzzy recollection of the night before, bits and pieces only loosely connected with each other, and he was immediately filled with regret. Everything that could have gone wrong went wrong. He had promised Kate that he wouldn't drink again. He had not only broken that promise, he had ground it into dust. He shut his eyes once again and tried to will himself into a different reality.

"Why don't ye go wake yer father up?" He heard Kate's voice and tried to judge how angry she might've been from the tone. It was hard to tell.

A half second later, someone smacked him.

He opened his eyes to see Evy an inch from his face. "I'm awake," he muttered, wincing at the sound of his own voice. Why was everything so loud?

"I'm hungry," Evy stated.

"You're always hungry." Cal sat up slowly, feeling worse with the movement. "Why don't you...I don't know...go get your shoes and socks on." He saw Kate standing nearby, her arms folded across her chest. "I'm sorry."

"Are ye?" Her tone was sharp.

"I shouldn't have had a drink and you were right," he admitted. "We shouldn't have gone."

"Hm."

"I am so sorry. I'd understand if you want to leave me."

"Of course, I'm not going to leave ye." Kate's expression softened. "And I suppose I should apologize for hitting yer ex-wife."

"You hit Dinah?" He couldn't recall that happening but wished he did. "I wouldn't apologize for that. I'm sure she deserved it."

"Shoes on. I'm hungry," Evy interrupted them.

"Evy's hungry," Kate said. "Are ye comin' to breakfast with us or do ye need to lie down a bit longer?"

Before he could answer, there was a knock at the door.

Kate opened it to reveal Arthur.

"I apologize for the earliness," he said. "But I wanted to speak with my father immediately."

"Come in then," Kate said. "We're all awake."

"And hungry," Evy added.

Kate bent down to buckle Evy's shoes. "Ye have these on the wrong feet."

"Oh." The toddler pulled her shoes back off.

Arthur stepped into the room and immediately took a seat near Cal. "I know you spoke with Victor about the factories," he began at once.

"Good morning," Cal said.

"Good morning. Now, I know you spoke with Victor about the factories," he repeated himself.

"I did."

"He told you that he had an interested buyer."

"He did." Cal struggled to piece together the bits he remembered from the previous night. Victor had been very interested in the factories.

Arthur hesitated. "Don't sell to him."

"I can't keep them."

"You can and you should."

"They're bleeding money."

"And they're going to make a fortune the moment they're sold." There was an insistence in Arthur's voice that made Cal sit up straighter.

"Arthur—"

"I know Victor's your first born and you prefer him—"

"I don't prefer anyone," Cal cut him off.

"Well, maybe not but Victor's not being honest with you," Arthur said. "He's made an arrangement with that buyer. Once the paperwork is signed over, that buyer already has a deal in place with someone at the Public Works Administration. There's some big multi-year project in the works that they're intending to use Hockley Steel on. They're going to make millions and Victor's set to get a substantial cut."

Cal pinched the bridge of his nose. The headache pounding behind his eyes made it difficult to focus on the conversation. "What would you have me do then?"

"Bypass him completely."

"He's my son."

"So am I."

"I suppose you'd like me to sell to you?"

"God, no. I don't want them."

"Arthur, my head is killing me. Please just get to the point."

"Bypass the buyer and make a deal with the Public Work Administration yourself. Make Victor a manager and he can't complain without admitting to everything. And he won't do that because he'd be afraid of being written out of...well, your will."

"How often do the two of you discuss my will?"

"Not often and I don't mean anything by that," Arthur quickly said. "Victor's trying to manipulate you. That's why he got you drunk."

Arthur's words made sense but Cal needed time to sort everything out. "I'll think about it," he said. "I'm not making any decisions until I can think clearer."

"That's all I ask. Now, where's Evy?" Arthur looked around the room, spotting her sitting on the bed, with her shoes on the correct feet, watching the conversation intently. "I have something for you." He opened his portfolio and pulled out the sketch of the horse. He handed it to her.

Evy's eyes grew wide. "For mine?"

"Yes, all yours."

"Wow." She hopped off the bed. "Daddy, look." She ran over to him and shoved the drawing into his face.

"That's very nice." Cal grabbed the drawing to hold it still. "You did this?" He asked Arthur.

"I like to draw."

"It's very good."

"I practice a great deal," Arthur replied.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Cal knew he should say something else—it had been so long since he had last seen Arthur—but nothing came to mind. He was too aware of his shortcomings, too aware of the sort of scene he must've caused but couldn't remember, the night before.

"Well," Arthur broke the silence. "Can I take everyone to breakfast? My treat."

"You three go on ahead," Cal said. "I'm afraid I'm not feeling up to it."

"I'm not surprised," Kate replied. She leaned down and kissed him. "By the way," she added in a whisper. "I also threw wine in her face."

"I love you so much."

"I love ye too. But don't leave this room," she said. "I mean it. I don't want ye drinkin' anymore."

"I won't touch a drop," Cal assured her. "I promise." He watched them head toward the door as a group. "Arthur," he called out.

The young man stopped and looked back.

"You've always been my favorite."

Arthur smiled. "I'm glad you came back. Even if it's only for a few weeks."

Summer

Pat took Eileen to Natatorium Park for her birthday. It ended up just being the two of them as Sarah decided to stay home at the last moment. She had woken up with a headache and wasn't sure she could handle the crowds and noise. But, as they walked through the nearly empty park, she shouldn't have worried. It was so different from the last time they had gone, thirteen years earlier. Too many people must have been still struggling.

Aside from less visitors, the park, itself, hadn't changed all that much. There were several new rides and a few old ones were missing—Pat was happy to see that the boat ride was no longer there. Eileen, with a seemingly endless supply of energy, ran from one to the next with him always trailing behind and wondering exactly when he had last had as much energy as his daughter. He was grateful when Eileen finally decided she was hungry and they were able to take a small break.

The café was surprisingly busy. Eileen claimed a table while he went to order them food. He brought back two hot dogs, a tray of fries, and drinks.

As he set them on the table, she suddenly jumped from her seat. "I'll get napkins."

"We have napkins."

"Not enough," she called back as she left the table. "Don't eat any fries until I get back."

Pat sighed. He looked around the café at the tables filled with families enjoying the day as he waited for her to return. One man sitting nearby looked familiar. He stared at him, trying to recall where he had seen him before. The man turned his head, their eyes met, and Pat realized he was looking at Charlie.

He quickly looked away, focusing, instead, on the table's surface, worn down by countless people eating their meals there. He wondered what was taking Eileen so long and whether he should go in search when he heard a voice just over his shoulder.

"Pat?" Charlie stood beside the table.

"What do ye want?"

"I just wanted to say hi and see if you're doing alright."

"I'm not mad," Pat quickly said.

"I never thought you were," Charlie replied. "Is Sarah here?"

"She's at home right now. It's only me and Eileen." He looked around, almost expecting to see men lurking nearby, ready to restrain him and drag him back to that place. "I'm doin' fine. Ye can't take me back. I won't go back."

"Go where?" Eileen chose that moment to return, a massive stack of napkins in her hands. "I got as many as I could carry. I can get more if we—" She stopped abruptly and looked at Charlie.

"Eileen, this is Charlie," Pat explained. "He's…I know him from a time ago."

"We're old friends," Charlie clarified.

"Hi," she said. She slowly dumped the napkins onto the table and took a seat. "Would you like a napkin?"

"No, thanks," Charlie replied.

"Good, we need these." Eileen picked up her hot dog and took a bite.

"Can ye leave us be?" Pat asked.

"Pat," Charlie began. "I am so sorry for what they did to you. None of it was right and I should have gotten you out sooner. You deserved better."

Pat traced his fingernail along the grain in the table and didn't respond. It didn't matter that Charlie was sorry or that he wished he had done otherwise. Nothing that man said would return that missing year to him, would take back what he had gone through, would erase the nightmares. He sighed.

"Anyway, I know me saying that now doesn't change anything, but I wanted you to know." Charlie looked around the table. "I'll leave you be. Don't want to ruin your day." He moved to leave.

"Ye took me weddin' ring," Pat said suddenly. "Ye still have it."

Charlie hesitated. "I'm not sure if I—"

"I want it back."

"I'll see what I can do, but I can't make any promises. It was good to see you." Charlie looked back one last time as he rejoined his family at his own table.

Once he was gone, Pat picked up a fry, despite no longer feeling hungry.

Eileen sighed. "I'll go get some more napkins."

"No, we don't need any napkins. They're goin' to start chargin' ye if ye take any more."

"Fine. But you're going to be sorry if we both end up spilling our drinks at the same time."

"If we spill our drinks, ye may go fetch some more napkins." Pat looked to where Charlie had been sitting but the table was now empty and Charlie was no longer to be seen. "Now, hurry up and eat so ye can wear me out some more." He briefly wondered if he should tell Sarah about running into him but decided against it. No, as with all things related to the asylum, it was better to pretend as though nothing ever happened at all.


Helen clung to John's arm as they walked. He had tried in vain to disengage her hand several times but her grip was relentless and he soon gave up. She kept up a steady stream of a one-sided conversation as they walked but he wasn't listening. His thoughts were on Dottie and his still relatively new revelation. He did love her. He loved Dottie. He only wished he knew what to do with that information. All he did know was that he somehow needed to get rid of Helen.

John spotted a bench and immediately guided her to it. "Helen," he began the moment she sat down. "I think you're a sweet gal and you don't look like a box most of the time."

"Aren't you sweet?" Helen beamed. "This is why I—"

"Please just listen," he cut her off. "You're a good person and all but…I don't love you."

"Love always takes a bit of time to develop." She patted his arm.

"I love someone else."

"What?"

He sent up a silent prayer of thanks that she finally seemed to be hearing him. "I don't love you. I love someone else," he repeated. "I think you're swell but this isn't going to work between us. It can't work between us."

Helen stared at him. "I don't understand what you're saying."

"I don't want to see you anymore." He made sure to speak as clearly as possible. "I don't like you."

A couple walking past both turned their heads in unison, horrified looks on their faces.

"John."

"Please don't argue."

"Who's arguing?" Helen grabbed his hand. "I just think you're a bit confused at the moment."

"I'm not confused. I love Dottie."

"Oh, her." She released his hand.

"Yes, her. I'm sorry." John was genuinely sorry. Everything would've been so much easier and so much simpler if he could make himself love Helen.

"She's getting married and not to you," Helen stated simply. To his confusion, she not only didn't look heartbroken, she looked entirely unconcerned.

"I know."

"You can't marry her if she's already married to someone else."

"I know that as well."

"So you want yourself to end up some sort of hermit?" She asked. "Are you looking to join a monastery?"

"What? No, of course not."

Helen moved closer to him. Too close. "Then what's the use of pining away over someone unattainable?"

"Helen—"

She leaned forward suddenly and kissed him. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" She asked softly the moment they broke apart.

John knew what he wanted to say. That she shouldn't have kissed him. That it had changed nothing. He still loved Dottie. There was nothing between him and Helen. But it was as though he had forgotten how to speak. All of those important thoughts refused to form themselves into words and sentences. Her lips were so soft.

She laughed. "John, you can speak, you know."

"What?" He shook his head. "I was…I just…that couldn't…" He looked at her sitting there next to him, still too close, staring up at him with large eyes, a smile on her face. He didn't know what else to do. He pulled her close and kissed her back.


The moment Sarah saw Pat coming home from work, she bolted out the front door and met him on the porch. She tried her hardest to keep a straight face but the smile kept slipping through and she knew it wasn't going to work. Her news was too good to keep hidden even if only for the briefest of moments.

Pat gave her a knowing look. "Why are ye so happy?" He asked. "Ye didn't get the job, did ye?"

She nodded.

He let out a shout as he picked her up and spun her around. "I knew ye'd get it."

Sarah laughed. "Put me down. It's really not that big of a deal. Only three days a week from eight to ten. Hardly anything at all."

He set her down but didn't let go of her. "I'm goin' to need ye to start from the beginnin'. Interview went well, then?"

"He offered me the job, so I assume it went well." She closed her eyes briefly as she tried to recall every little detail. "Let's see. He said I needed more practice but he called me practical so that's good. He specifically mentioned that being old and married was a bonus because I'd be less liable to spend the day flirting and being silly. I don't care much about being called old but I'm still happy for the offer. I made him repeat it three times because I was certain I must've misheard." She still wondered if she hadn't heard correctly all three of those times. The last interview had gone so badly that she had prepared herself for more of the same.

"Have ye ever spent an entire day flirtin' and bein' silly?"

Sarah shrugged. "Maybe once when I was younger but I've never been much of a flirt."

"I know," Pat replied. "Ye never flirt with me."

"We're married. I don't have to flirt with you." She slid her hands across his chest, bringing them around his neck, and kissed him. "Anyway, it's only $5 a week but it'll still give me a bit to do during the week and having a few extra dollars will be nice. I thought maybe we could save those just in case…well, we can have a savings again and Eileen can go to college." The words came out in a happy rush. "I know most women don't go but she's already so smart. You know she'd do well. Could you imagine her working as a doctor? It'll probably save us a great deal on medical bills as we get older. Do you think I'm old? He called me old."

Pat laughed. "Sarah, ye need to breathe. Those are too many words to say all in the same breath. Ye'll pass out."

"I'm sorry," she replied, taking a deep breath. "It's been a bit of a day."

"Alright. Yer not old. Eileen would make a wonderful doctor, if that's what she wants to do with her life." He kissed her. "And I am so, so proud of ye."


After a great deal of thought and discussing it with Kate, Cal had followed Arthur's advice. He kept ownership of the factories, signing the contract with the Public Works Administration himself. Upon learning of his decision, Victor had turned cold and distant but said no word of complaint. Seeing for himself that his firstborn had been manipulating him was a hurt almost too much to bear. He had even gone in search of a drink in an attempt to cover up the pain. Fortunately, he came to his senses before it was too late and he spent the remainder of their trip locked in the hotel room, playing dolls with Evy.

It was once they were home that Kate brought up her conversation with Arthur. He was irritated, at first, at the accusation that he hadn't been there for his children nearly as much as he had believed. He was a far better parent than Dinah. He was so certain of it. But, the more he considered it, the more he was forced to admit that there was truth to Arthur's words. He had spent too much of his time in Max Hoff's establishments, too many nights drinking in pool halls with Fabri. Too many trips to Spokane. He wanted to do better for Kate's children, for Evy. He needed to do better.

A day out was Kate's idea. Cal let Henry and Bridget choose how they were going to spend the day. First they stopped for hamburgers followed by giant slices of pie for everyone. Then they all went to the Liberty Theatre to see Snow White–Bridget called it perfect, Henry said there was too much singing. Afterward, they visited a toy store, where Cal let them each choose a toy. Henry ended up selecting a working train set and Bridget chose a porcelain doll who shut her eyes when she laid down. Together, they decided on a stuffed animal for Evy. Kate had told him not to spoil them but he believed that everyone deserved to be spoiled once in a while.

Finally, they stopped in a jewelry store where the two children immediately gravitated toward a display of glittering rings.

"Don't touch anything," he cautioned them. Cal looked at the display of jewelry, carefully selecting a silver bracelet adorned with diamonds and onyx. It felt good to have money once again.

"Can I have a bracelet?" Bridget asked.

"You already have your doll."

"I didn't know bracelets were an option."

He smiled. "Maybe when you're a little older."

She put her hands on her hips in a way that reminded him of her mother. "You promise?"

"I promise I will buy you a bracelet when you're older."

"How older?"

"Sixteen."

She counted on her fingers and sighed. "That's forever away."

"It'll be here before you know it." That was one truth he hated to admit.

They returned home and the two children immediately swarmed Kate to show her their new toys.

"I can set the tracks up however I want and it'll move along them like a real train," Henry explained.

"Her eyes close," Bridget said. "Actually close. Just like she's sleeping."

"They're very nice," Kate agreed, her eyes finding Cal. "Whatever happened to not spoilin' them?"

"It's only one day," he replied. "It won't do any harm. Besides, I haven't been able to spoil anyone in a very long time and I've missed it."

"Hm."

"I have something for you too."

"Ye don't need to be spoilin' me either."

Cal held out a small velvet box.

Kate cautiously opened it, revealing the bracelet inside. She stared at it, briefly speechless. "Ye don't need to do this," she said the moment she found her voice again. "It's too much."

He removed the bracelet from the box and clasped it around her wrist.

"Cal."

"Tell me you don't love it and I promise I'll return it and get you a…I don't know. A dustpan or a sensible pair of shoes instead."

"I love it," Kate replied. She gently ran her fingertips over the stones. "How could I not love it?"

"You really mean that?" He remembered Rose's cold reaction to a certain necklace long ago. He had almost expected the same from Kate.

She kissed him. "I do," she said. "It's beautiful."

Fall

Pat stood at the mailbox and flipped through the mail. It was the usual pile of nothing: a few bills, some advertisements, a Christmas card that was either very early or very late, nothing he cared about. He paused in his flipping at the sight of an envelope with his name written on it. There was no stamp, no return address, only his name. He immediately looked around as though expecting to see someone hiding nearby but the street was empty. He quickly stepped inside.

Dumping the majority of the mail on the table, he opened the envelope. The only content was a ring. He held it up and stared at it in complete disbelief.

"Anything interesting?" Sarah asked, coming into the room. "What is it?"

Wordlessly, Pat held out the ring.

"You've already asked me to marry you. But I'll marry you a second time if you want me to."

"It's mine."

A look of surprise crossed her face as she took the ring in her hand. "Someone sent this to you?"

"It was Charlie," he replied. "I told him I wanted me ring back." He had demanded the ring despite believing that it was lost long ago. It seemed impossible that it would still be there at the asylum as though waiting for him. It seemed even more impossible that Charlie would find it and send it to him.

"Charlie? When did you speak to Charlie?"

"We ran into him at Natatorium Park."

"You didn't tell me?" There was no accusation in her voice but he still felt guilty.

"I didn't think anything would come of it," he admitted. "And I don't want…I can't be thinkin' about that place again because if I…" He took a deep breath. "If I remember what it was like, I'm afraid I'll never be able to stop thinkin' about it. I can't relive any of it."

"Pat." Sarah handed the ring back. "Don't think of it. You're never setting foot inside that place again."

He looked at the ring a moment longer before slipping it onto his finger. Even seeing it, he could hardly believe it.


All of Tommy's friends had laughed at him for applying to the University of Washington. None of them had even considered college, choosing, instead, jobs at the freight yard. But he thought of his father—his real father—and the bits and pieces he had learned about him and wanted to do something that would've made him proud. So he studied for the entrance exams, took them, and waited.

The rejection letter came surprisingly quick. Tommy read it twice, his brow furrowed. He had made a genuine effort on the exams. He thought he had done well. His grades, while not the best in the class, also weren't the worst and he hadn't missed a single day in the past year. He should have been accepted.

"I don't understand," Kate said the moment she heard the news.

He may have been every bit as confused but it was infuriating to hear it expressed aloud from his mother.

"Ye did study, right?" She continued. "I thought yer exams went well."

"Yes, I studied and apparently my exams didn't go well enough because I didn't get in."

"Ye don't need to take that tone with me."

"I'm not taking any tone," Tommy snapped.

"Maybe ye forgot to answer a question?"

"I didn't forget any questions."

"If ye raise yer voice at me one more time, ye can spend the remainder of the day in yer room."

Cal looked at the rejection letter and sighed. "Would you like me to speak with the dean?"

"Would it help?" Kate asked.

"It might if I slip him a few bills."

Tommy felt his mood start to lift. "Could you?"

"Yer not bribin' anyone," Kate said, shaking her head. "We're better than that."

"Yes, we've never had to bribe anyone before, have we?" Cal gave her a knowing look. "I don't mean to be so blunt but that's not how the world works."

"Yer tellin' me ye bribed yer way into Harvard?"

"No, of course not. I was accepted on merit," Cal explained. "And my father might've made a sizable donation a few months before the admission deadline which I'm sure didn't hurt."

"We're not bribin' them," Kate said, her tone final. "Tommy, ye can take the exams again next year."

"So I can fail again?"

"Ye won't fail, not if ye study some more."

Tommy felt a wave of frustration wash over him. They just weren't getting it. "I've already studied as much as I can," he said. "You just want me to fail."

"That's not true."

"It is," he insisted. "You don't give a shit about me. You never have."

"Tommy—"

"You know, just because you're miserable and your life has been nothing but trash, it doesn't mean that mine should be as well."

A heavy silence fell over the room.

"I know...room." Tommy stormed into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

He threw himself onto the bed, immediately overcome with guilt. He knew he shouldn't have yelled at his mother. He knew that she was only doing her best, that she had only ever done her best. He didn't know why he had grown so angry. It had risen up so suddenly, the words had slipped out before he even realized that he was saying them. What was wrong with him?

He took a few deep breaths to ensure that he was calm before stepping out of his room. He paused in the hallway outside of the living room.

His mother sat with Cal on the sofa, his arm around her. She was crying.

"He's just being a teenager," Cal said softly. "He'll grow out of it."

"He just hates me so much," she said. "I can't see him ever forgivin' me for Hugh and he's right not to."

"Kate, he doesn't hate you."

"I'd hate me, if I were him."

"Mom?" Tommy began tentatively.

They both turned to look at him.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," he said quietly. "I didn't mean it."

She brought her sleeve across her eyes. "Apology accepted," she said. "We're still not bribin' anyone."

"That's alright. I don't want to go to college anyway."

"Tommy—"

He had already turned to head back to his room. He may have felt guilty for his comments, but he still didn't want to discuss his failure with anyone.

Winter

Snow pelted off the windows and wind rattled the panes. Eileen pressed her nose to the glass as she watched the snow swirl around.

"Careful or yer nose will freeze to the glass," Pat said.

"It will not," she insisted. But she backed up just a bit nonetheless. "Can I go outside?"

"Maybe once the wind dies down a bit. Ye'll blow away otherwise."

Eileen sighed. "Maybe I want to blow away.

"Sure, but then how'd ye get home again?"

"I'll wait for the wind to go the other way."

Pat laughed. "Don't think it works that way."

She pressed her nose to the glass once again. "Can Moose come inside?"

"I doubt Moose wants to be inside."

"But what if he blows away?"

"He has wings. He'll just fly back."

She sighed again. "How long do turkeys live?"

Sarah half-listened to their conversation as she worked to mix up several bowls of frosting. Eileen had wanted at least a dozen different colors but she was only getting four: white, red, green, and yellow. The Christmas colors. She carried the bowls to the table where a tray of cookies already waited to be decorated. "Alright, we're ready," Sarah said. "There's also sprinkles somewhere."

Eileen immediately turned away from the window and slid into a seat. She picked up a cookie. "John!" She yelled from the table. "Cookies!"

He came into the room. "Do I have to?"

"You do," Sarah replied. "This is family time."

"Fine." John grabbed the cookie out of Eileen's hand and took a bite.

"That was mine," she said. "And you're not supposed to eat them."

"I'm sorry. I guess I was confused by them being cookies."

"Naked cookies."

Sarah gathered up several dirty dishes and carried them to the sink. She put in the stopper and turned on the water.

"Mom," John called to her. "I thought this was family time?"

"I just want to get these washed first."

Pat wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Family time, Sarah. Those can wait."

She flicked water at him. "Are you willing to wash them later?"

"Sure," he replied. "Now, come on. Before John eats them all."

"I've only had two so far," John stated.

They both took a seat and Sarah picked up a cookie. "Is this supposed to be a bell or a star?"

Pat looked at it. "I think that's a tree."

"Oh." She looked at Eileen who was busy making piles out of the sprinkles. "Are you picking out all of the pink sprinkles?"

"Yes," Eileen replied, not looking up from her work. "But only because they don't already come pre-sorted."

"Why'd ye need so many pink ones?" Pat asked.

"Why wouldn't I need so many pink ones?"

"I have no response to that."

Sarah looked around the table and smiled. Despite the storm outside, everything was perfect and she couldn't have been happier.


Henry and Bridget stood side-by-side at one of the windows, staring out at the snowy street outside, the streetlights catching the swirling flakes in their glow. They had been in the same spot for an hour already.

"What if Santa can't see our house?" Bridget asked for the hundredth time.

"It won't affect him," Henry replied. "Trust me."

Kate suspected that he no longer believed in Santa Claus but hadn't yet admitted it aloud. Perhaps, he was afraid that he would no longer receive presents if he said anything.

"But what if he doesn't see it?" Bridget's voice had developed a whine.

"If he somehow misses our house," Kate jumped in. "I'll send Cal out into the storm to guide him here."

Bridget gave him a look as though determining his Santa-finding ability. "I suppose that'll be okay," she said at last.

"And it won't matter anyway," Kate continued. "Santa is used to storms. He's very good at flyin' in them. But, he won't be comin' at all if yer both still awake. Off to bed with ye."

Bridget sighed and padded off to bed, with Henry following close behind her. Tommy still lingered in the doorway.

"Ye should be off as well."

"I wanted to give you this." He held out a neatly wrapped present. "You can open it now, if you want."

Kate took the present. "I should wait," she said as she carefully removed the wrapping paper. She opened the box to reveal a pair of white suede gloves with a scalloped edge. "Tommy, yer givin' me a hug."

"What?" Tommy looked surprised. "Mom, no."

She hugged him despite his protestations. "Thank ye. They're lovely."

Cal heard a small noise and turned to see Evy watching them from the hallway. He sighed. They had already put her to bed twice.

"Evy, ye need to be stayin' in yer room," Kate said.

"I'll take care of it." Cal scooped her up and carried her back to bed. "Now, you have to stay in bed."

"No."

"Santa won't come if you're awake."

"No." She tried to climb out of bed again.

Cal picked her up and tossed her into the middle of the bed. Evy laughed and climbed out again. He picked her up and once more tossed her into bed.

"Again!" She climbed out a third time.

After dropping her into bed yet again, he changed tactics. "How about I read you a story?"

Evy thought about it. "That's okay."

He looked at the bookcase and selected a new book, one that they hadn't yet had a chance to read together. Evy laid down in bed and Cal took a moment to tuck her in tightly so no monster could nab her. Then, he opened the book to the first page and began to read. "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit."

"What's a hobbit?"

"I don't know but we're going to find out, aren't we?" He noticed Kate standing in the doorway, looking happier than she had in a long time. She smiled at him. "Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms—"

"Make the voices."

"I will once someone shows up."

"Okay."

Cal looked at Kate. "You can go to bed if you like. I have this under control."

"No, I'd like to hear the voices."

"Fine." He returned to the book. "And an oozy smell, nor yet—"

"No, start over," Evy cut him off.

"Start over?"

"Yeah, I forgot to listen."

"Okay." Cal went back to the beginning. "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit," he began once again. He looked at Evy listening intently and Kate still standing in the doorway, a smile on her face, and wished that moment could last forever. He didn't know when everything had last been so perfect.