Written by Marsha Elliott (maxgrl @ kvnet. org)

"There you are! Mr. Sheffield, whatca doin sittin out here alone like a dog? It's Thanksgiving. You should be inside cheering off some of that turkey dinner in front of the T.V. with Daddy and Brighton."

Max turned his head sideways without lifting it from his hands and watched as Fran dropped down to sit on the stoop beside him. She squinted intently at him for a second before she nudged him with her shoulder.

"You were awfully quiet during dinner. Ma finally gettin to ya?"

"No, not really." He straightened and looked up at the star filled sky for a few seconds. "That Brighton is really something, you know? Every time I think I have the boy pegged he goes off in a completely different direction and baffles me all over again."

"Brighton in general or something specific he's been into?" Fran pulled her knees up, wrapped her arms around her legs and settled in for a long talk. She'd noticed how quiet he'd become during dinner, listening to the laughter and stories without comment. Something about the look on his face, the way he'd disappeared after dinner, had prompted her to look for him. A single glance at him now told her she'd been right to track him down

Max dragged his fingers through his hair and sighed. "That thing he said during dinner. The question he asked……..about what we were thankful for. The question surprised me. It was something I'd have expected of Gracie, not Brighton." He scrubbed his palms restlessly up and down his thighs. "I didn't know what to say………it threw me."

Fran reached for the fingers nervously drumming against his leg. "You had a nice answer!"

"Nice answer? I mumble through something inane about my country and my work and all the privilege money has bought me. What a bloody lot of rubbish!" He pulled his hand from hers and buried his face in his palms. "Tell me, Miss Fine, why it is that I can stand on a stage in front of thousands and make a pretty speech. I can "schmooze" the rich and famous. I can talk to theater crews. But when it comes to my own family, to those I care for most, I can't put together two coherent sentences."

She turned toward him and gripped his shoulder, giving him a little shake. "You weren't exactly raised with the warm fuzzies. Don't be so hard on yourself." She leaned toward him until she could look into his eyes. "You're a good man, Maxwell Sheffield! And a good father. The kids know that you love them."

He watched her for a moment, enjoying the way her dark eyes seemed to penetrate all the way into his soul. It scared him sometimes, the way she saw him so clearly. But not tonight. Tonight he wanted her to see him. Without looking away, he reached for the hand she'd placed on his shoulder and covered it with his own.

"You never answered that question, Miss Fine. What are you most thankful for this year?"

He was surprised by the flash of pain he saw in her eyes before she turned away and forced a laugh. "Now you have me worried. Encouraging me to talk! You know how I like to ramble on………….we'd be here all night!" How could she answer him, tell him that he was the brightest point in her life. It would only make things awkward between them. He'd be afraid and she'd be humiliated. He tugged gently on her hand, linking their fingers.

"Then you ask me."

"Ask you?"

"What I'm most thankful for. Suppose I tell you what I'd say if I had the chance to answer that question again."

"Okay. What are you thankful for?"

"Hmmmm. First, I am thankful for my work. I've been blessed to work with so many wonderful, talented people. The theater has given me a creative outlet for all the dreams I kept locked inside for much of my life." Max scooted closer, sliding an arm behind her back and pulling her against his side.

"Cold?"

"No…………go ahead."

"I'm thankful to have a wonderful business partner in C.C., and don't roll your eyes" he added with a soft chuckle as she did exactly that. "Without C.C., Sheffield/Babcock Productions would never have made it off the ground. C.C. takes care of all those dreadful details I despise."

Fran grimaced. "Well, I guess I'll have to give you that one. She does love to manage things."

"And then there's Niles. Heaven knows what I'd do without Niles. He's been father, brother, friend, confessor……………" His voice broke and he bowed his head silently for several minutes. He spoke again, his voice thickened with emotion. "I don't think I'd have survived after I lost Sarah if it hadn't been for Niles."

She nodded in silent agreement, not trusting her voice to answer him. It made her heart ache to think of what he'd suffered. She'd done her best to ease it, to bring some joy back into his life, but she was never really sure that she had succeeded. For now, she could only hold his hand and listen to the night sounds of the city around them.

She could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again. "You know I'm thankful for the children. I don't have to tell you how wonderful they are." He leaned his head toward hers and winked. "I'd say you had something to do with that. Just look at Margaret. She's turning into a beautiful young woman. And much as it exasperates me, I'm glad to see her developing a mind of her own. Brighton……..well, I still haven't figured out Brighton. But I think you have. He trusts you and I'm glad for that. Little Gracie will outshine us all. Sometimes I can't believe she's a child……….my child. All that brilliance must have come from Sarah's side…….."

"Sarah." Her name came from him more sigh than spoken word. "I can't imagine what my life would have been like without Sarah. Even though our time together was too short, I can't help but be thankful for having her in my life. I would never give up having loved her. She gave me three wonderful children. She gave me the confidence to believe in myself and to go after my dreams. She taught me to love." His voice trailed off and they sat in silence again.

Fran closed her eyes and tried to will away the tears gathering behind her eyelids. She was hopelessly in love with a man who would never be able to give her his heart. It had already been given. She pulled her hand from his and patted it as she stood. It took several deep breaths before she dared speak. "Like I said, you're a good man. Your family is lucky to have you." All she wanted was to get away before she started bawling and made a complete fool of herself. She turned and the three steps to the doorway seemed like miles.

"Fran," his voice low and quiet.

She couldn't answer. The tears she'd been fighting were coursing silently down her cheeks. All she could do was stand, head bent, and wait for him to say something that was sure to break her heart.

"Don't you want to know what I'm most thankful for?"

She nodded mutely then stiffened as she felt him move to stand close behind her.

"I left the most important thing for last." His arms surrounded her as he drew her sweetly against his warmth. "I am most thankful for you. You came into my life and taught me the greatest truth of all."

Fran twisted in his arms until she faced him, half afraid to look at him. He caught her chin and lifted her face until she was gently forced to meet his eyes. "Oh sweetheart, no. Don't cry……..please don't." He covered her face with tiny kisses until she broke down completely, hiding her face against his chest as she sobbed.

He held her, making soft, comforting sounds and rocking her in his arms. When she'd finally quieted, he spoke again.

"Tonight, when Brighton asked his question, I looked around the room at all the people that I love and I realized something. Everything that I have I owe to you. My friends, my family, my success…….none of it would be possible without you."

She pushed away from him, trying to see his face. "Oh Max, no! I didn't…"

He shushed her quickly with his fingers over her lips and tucked her head back against his shoulder.

" I thought I'd lost everything. Sarah. My relationship with my children. My friends. My interest in the theater. I was only going through the motions of living."

He laughed against her hair. "Then you blew into my life………my five-foot-two hurricane. Nothing was ever the same. You challenged me, infuriated me, teased me and tempted me. And then you showed me the only thing that really matters."

He captured her face between his hands and brushed his lips over hers. Then he drew back and waited until she'd opened her eyes. "It's love, Fran. Love is the only thing that really matters. With love, anything is possible. I love you."

She wanted to laugh, to cry, to shout……….but all she could do was cling to him. And then she was crying, and laughing and kissing him and kissing him and kissing him as though she would never have enough.

"I love you too, Maxwell! I love you!"