“Do you think Sheridan’s going to be upset when she sees it?” Theresa wondered aloud, tucking her disheveled dark head against Chad’s strong shoulder. The events of the last twenty-four hours…they were crazy. She was so tired, and they were really only at the beginning. Chad thought back to Luis’s initial shocked reaction to Ali’s new catheter even after he’d given Nick the OK to help Ali in any way possible. “A little. But I think Taylor’s right. It ain’t pretty, but it’s going to do its job and save Miss Ali a lot of unnecessary pain of starting new IV’s over and over again. I don’t think Sheridan’s going to like finding out AFTER the fact, but she’ll deal.”

“Where’d Mama and Papa go?” Theresa yawned, nestling even deeper into Chad’s arms. “They took Cristian and MJ to the cafeteria for some breakfast,” Chad answered, sweeping his hand over her back in rhythmic strokes and lulling her into an even more relaxed state. “Girl, you heard what Abby said. They have a long weekend.” “It’s really not fair,” Theresa muttered into Chad’s chest. “We never had so many holidays and free days.” Chad chuckled, and Theresa frowned up at him. “What? What’s so funny?” “No holidays, Girl? You and Whitney made your own holidays. I didn’t know it was possible to miss so many days of school and still graduate. How’d you do it?” “You think you’re funny, don’t you?” Theresa asked, sitting upright with a pout and scooting away from him.

And those two were getting married, Hank thought with a grin, turning his attention back to the small window looking into Ali’s hospital room. Ali looked so tiny and pale cradled in Luis’s arms as Taylor stood off to one side of the bed beside Katie while she made sure Ali was comfortable. Hank stepped back against the wall as the door opened and Taylor and Katie emerged. Katie’s green eyes sparkled and she smiled upon seeing him, leaving Taylor standing by himself a few feet away as she walked back to him, Hank thought with satisfaction. Good. It was just something about Taylor…Hank wasn’t above wishing he’d get Ali better and leave town. Forever. “I’m afraid it’s just me. Not exactly the Bennett you were hoping to see,” Hank teased. “Jessica’s got Noah scouting out houses with her and the kids,” he said in a more serious tone.

“They’re moving back to Harmony? That’s good. Mr. and Mrs. Bennett will enjoy having them closer,” Katie said with a smile. “Noah too. I know he misses having his sister around.” “Coffee? We have a few things to discuss. Like how you’re going to have to change a few things if you want to fit in the Bennett family. It’s Sam. Sam and Grace,” Hank told her, slipping an arm around her shoulder as he steered her down the hall without waiting for her answer, “Not Mr. and Mrs. Bennett. They hate that. You can call them Mom and Dad after you and Noah get married, but Sam and Grace will do for now.” “Married?” Katie choked, turning a pretty shade of pink. “Noah and I are just…we’ve only been dating a little over a month. He hasn’t even met Kendall yet.”

“I happen to have it on good authority that you AND Kendall are invited to dinner tomorrow night. Noah wants to properly introduce you to Jessica and the kids before they fly back to Chicago. Don’t look so scared. You’re going to be a hit. I’ll talk you through all the Bennett idiosyncrasies over a cup of coffee,” Hank told her with a grin. He couldn’t help but find humor in the fact that the pretty smile was all but gone, replaced by the most dead-on deer in the headlights look he’d ever witnessed.

Nick looked back to Ali’s chart with a small smile. Hank Bennett was certainly…an individual. He couldn’t say he’d met anyone like him before—maybe Abby, he thought as he lay Ali’s chart on the counter of the nurses’ desk and waited until he had Ellie’s undivided attention. He bit back a smirk when Ellie replaced the phone on the receiver and immediately started batting her fake eyelashes at him. Abby was right. They WERE huge and they DID look a bit like flapping moth wings. “Ellie, could you keep a check on Ali until Katie gets back from her break? I have a few things I need to do, but I want you to page me if anything happens.” “Page you if anything happens. Got it, Dr. Taylor,” Ellie said, attempting to give him a seductive smile. It failed miserably. Thanks in part to the annoyed gleam in her eyes that could only mean one thing, Nick realized, turning around and completely ignoring Ellie.

The smile started as a twinkle in his gray eyes and spread over his entire face until he found himself grinning at Abby like a fool. He didn’t know how she did it, but the woman never failed to make him smile. “Miss me?” Abby teased with an impish grin, her arms crossed around her middle. Nick tugged on her arm gently, closing the distance between them, and threaded one hand through the tawny hair that fell loosely around her face to cup the base of her skull. Abby’s twinkling hazel eyes fluttered shut with the first gentle brush of Nick’s mouth against hers, and she sighed happily at his unspoken answer, stretching on tiptoe to snake her arms around his neck and kiss him back.

Nick could hear Ellie’s annoyed reaction behind them, and he knew they probably had a growing audience. But the truth was, he HAD missed being with her last night. He just didn’t realize how much until he heard her voice and looked into her smiling hazel eyes. Abby’s mouth was warm, soft, responsive, and smiling when Nick finally released it reluctantly, his big hands framing each side of her face. “I like your hair like this,” he murmured, tucking a tawny strand behind her ear, “it looks…pretty.” “Pretty?” Abby laughed softly, rubbing her cheek against the palm that still cupped her face. “Pretty is what Jake says to Ali. I SO feel like I’m back in the fourth grade.” Nick chuckled, leaning down to give Abby’s lips one last lingering kiss then dropping a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Junior high then,” Abby amended, grinning at his affectionate gesture.

“I told you so, Cristian,” MJ hissed in his little cousin’s ear as they passed by, following Martin and Pilar back to the waiting area. “Abby’s in love with Ali’s Doctor Nick.” Cristian looked at Abby and Nick with his big dark eyes. What did ‘in love’ mean anyway? And how did MJ know anything about it? He wasn’t that much older than him. Cristian wasn’t sure about being ‘in love’, but he knew all about liking somebody. Ali liked Jake a whole lot, and Uncle Hank always said Jake didn’t want to admit it, but he liked Ali too. Was being ‘in love’ the same thing as liking someone a lot? Cristian was sure that even a little bitty baby could tell Abby liked Dr. Nick very, very much—same thing with Ali, and MJ said Abby was ‘in love.’ Cristian’s dark eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open in utter shock. Did that mean Jake and Ali were ‘in love’ too? “Nana. Nana, I got to ask you a question,” Cristian cried, slipping his little hand in Pilar’s palm as they paused outside Ali’s room to look in on her and his daddy. “Yes, Mijo?” Pilar smiled down at him patiently. “Mijo?” Cristian looked to MJ and the devilish glint in the other child’s eyes made Cristian’s question lodge firmly and uncomfortably in his throat. “MJ? What did you say to him?” MJ shrugged his shoulders, but Pilar could see the mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “Me? Nothing. So what’s your big question, Cristian?” Cristian slipped his arms around Pilar’s waist and his mumbled words were almost lost to Pilar’s ears. “Can I go see Mommy now?” Pilar told him ‘yes’ with a smile and her scolding was half-hearted at best when she turned to her other grandson. The old MJ was slowly coming back. She didn’t know whether to feel complete relief or retain a little healthy fear.

Chapter 72

“Dad, I’ve been thinking…” Jake began, already making his case. “What’s that, Little Buddy?” Hank inquired, giving Gwen a quick wink over the top of Jake’s brown head as they ushered their gang of little Bennetts toward Sam and Grace’s door. “Since I’m the oldest and all,” Jake stated, not without a healthy dose of pride in the fact, “I’ve been thinking I can sit with you and Mom at the grown-ups’ table.” “Hmm,” Hank pretended to mull the proposition over. “You ARE more mature than I was at your age…What? What was that, Babe? If you want your two cents heard, give them to me.” Hank demanded of his smirking wife. Gwen’s brown eyes were alight with humor, and Sara snickered naughtily at her mother’s words as she answered, “That’s a ringing endorsement, Bennett. That ugly mutt at home is more mature than you NOW.” “Gus isn’t ugly,” Emily defended,” Mommy? What does ‘mature’ mean?” “Mature is just something Daddy is NOT,” Gwen answered her, fitting the little hand that tugged at her jacket sleeve in her own and smoothing down Sara’s always tangled looking brown hair with her other hand. “Mom,” Sara glowered, “I fixed my hair already.” “No, she didn’t,” Emily revealed, “she didn’t comb her hair, and she flushed her new bow down the potty.” “Did not!” Sara lied, “You’re nothing but a tattletale brat, Emmy. Isn’t she, Jake?” Jake ignored his squabbling little sisters, turning back to his dad. “See, Dad? Very mature. I don’t deserve to be punished and made to sit with those babies. ‘Cause that’s what’d it be, Dad. Punishment. What would we talk about? SpongeBob Squarepants? SpongeBob Squarepants who? We have nothing in common. Nothing. Besides…my teacher at school says our brains should always be stimulated. How stimulating can the preschool set be?” Hank chuckled as the door opened and Jessica welcomed them inside. “We’ll see, Little Buddy.”

“Uncle Hank,” Jessica smiled, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing tightly. “I thought you guys were bringing Abby. I did remember to tell you Mom invited her, didn’t I?” Jessica asked, pulling back and sweeping her blue eyes across Hank’s face. “You remembered, and I told Tink,” Hank answered her, taking off his leather jacket and hanging it up inside the closet beside Emily’s pink parka. “But she said she couldn’t make it. Thanks to Taylor, no doubt.” “Bennett,” Gwen sighed in exasperation, “green doesn’t suit you, and I know when you’re lying so don’t even try it ‘cause it’s not going to work. You and Abby can reschedule your ‘play date’ for later this week. I’m sure Nick won’t mind.” “Haha. Very funny, Babe,” Hank grumbled, deciding to follow the kids into the living room. Jessica giggled girlishly in Hank’s wake. “Abby sounded a little tired over the phone, Jessica,” Gwen explained, “She said she’d better stay in tonight since she wouldn’t be good company anyway.” “That Energizer Bunny? Too bad,” Jessica lamented, her happy expression turning somber, “Mom really wanted her to come. She has something she wanted to give her. Something of Kay’s. She’s been going through her things again.” “I’m sorry, Jessica. I know it must be hard. We all miss Kay…you…your mom…” Gwen trailed off, seeing the telltale brightness of tears in Jessica’s eyes. “It’s okay,” Jessica answered her, wiping quickly at the moisture that pooled in the corner of her eyes and threatened to spill over. “Missing her hurts, but the memories are good. Even though some of them didn’t seem like it at the time. Just ask Simone and Miguel.” Gwen smiled. “I’m sure they have some interesting stories to tell. Speaking of Miguel…” “He’s here,” Jessica anticipated her question, nodding in the general direction of the kitchen. “He’s in the kitchen with Mom. They’re letting Joshua have free reign of the place. You’re lucky you just got here. You missed the great pot and pan jam session. Joshua’s fascinated by the clanging noise.”

“Geez, Uncle Sam,” Jake muttered as he strolled into the kitchen amidst the most fearsome racket he’d EVER heard in the place. “Couldn’t you spring for some better entertainment?” Sam chuckled, grabbing Jake by the shoulders and knuckling his spiky brown hair. “Daddy? Where’s all the food? I’m hungry,” Emily said, rubbing her tummy for emphasis. “How can you be hungry? We already a…” Sara scowled when Hank released his hand from her mouth, and Sam and Jake just grinned at each other. “I’m sure the tomato soup cake will be finished any moment now,” Hank told his annoyed progeny. “We’re not having tomato soup cake tonight,” Grace raised her voice to be heard over the commotion Joshua was still causing, aided and abetted by MJ, Faith, and Myles. “YE…mmmph,” Sara’s dark eyes narrowed to slits when Hank clamped his hand over her mouth again. Hank was thankful Grace had her back turned to them. Keeping the kid quiet was one thing. He didn’t have enough hands to censor her hand gestures too. The fist pumping in the air was really too much. “Really?” Hank tried to keep all traces of relief out of his voice. “Really, Hank,” Grace whirled around with a smile, “I thought I’d go easy on you tonight. As soon as Noah and Katie get here, he’s going with you, Sam, and Miguel to pick up dinner from the Lobster Shack.” “Thanks, Dad,” Jake grumbled with a roll of his brown eyes in Hank’s direction. Hank glanced back at Gwen just entering the kitchen with Jessica. “You knew? You knew, Babe, and you didn’t tell me? Wives aren’t supposed to keep secrets from their husbands.” “Don’t blame this on me,” Gwen huffed indignantly, “I told you not to spoil your appetite.” “And you,” Hank turned to Grace in accusation, stunned to find her smirking, “how long have you known…” “That none of you can stomach my cooking?” Grace laughed. “Oh…I think subconsciously I’ve ALWAYS suspected. But I didn’t KNOW until Kay hit me with the ugly truth at Christmas.” “Damn,” Hank uttered softly. “She always did have more guts than the rest of us.” “That she did,” Sam sighed, slipping an arm around his wife’s waist and pulling her close. Grace tucked her head beneath Sam’s chin and held on as the bedlam in the kitchen seemed to completely die down, leaving them to remember her daughter fondly in silence. Until one young voice rang out clear as a bell, making them laugh unexpectedly. “Thanks, Mom,” MJ raised his lively brown eyes to the heavens. “No offense, Grandma.”

Noah pulled at the collar of his navy sweater nervously as he checked out his hair in the reflection of his driver’s side window one last time. He transferred the cheerful little bouquet of daisies in his left hand to his right, lifting his left hand to cup around his mouth. Satisfied there was no need for a breath mint, he lowered his hand and inhaled deeply, internally debating whether or not he should get the little blue package he’d had Jessica wrap up for Kendall out of his trunk. He didn’t want it to seem like he was trying to buy the kid’s affection. The notion bordered on being ridiculous though. Who bought out a two-year-old? Sis, he thought, looking up to the twinkling winter night sky, I need a little help here. There’s this girl, and I really like her. I could even fall in love with her. Everything depends on the kid. Please, let the kid like me. “Okay, Sis?” Noah whispered, closing his silver-blue eyes as he imagined his sister smiling down on him. “Noah? Noah, is that you?” Noah’s eyes snapped open, and he slowly turned around to find Katie, looking pretty as a picture in pale lavender, gazing at him with concern in her green eyes. “Who else? Are you telling me I have competition?” Noah teased, stepping forward and holding out his handful of daisies. Katie touched the flowers to the tip of her nose with a smile, and Noah felt like he was smiling all over in response. He wouldn’t admit to being in love with the girl yet, but her sweet smile was working its magic on him. “How did you know?” “You mentioned it once…” “Once,” Katie laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him forward. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

The first thing Noah noticed the moment he walked inside Katie’s apartment…toys. Toys and baby pictures and just her. The apartment was small but homey, due in large part to Katie, Noah thought to himself as they neared a worn-looking sofa where a woman with graying brown hair that Noah assumed to be her mother sat holding a toddler with sandy hair. The woman faded to the background as Noah connected eyes with the child’s green eyes, and he felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he realized the odds were against him surviving the night without falling in love with the kid. “Noah,” Katie murmured softly, just the tiniest trace of nervousness in her voice as she took the little boy from his grandmother’s arms, “this is my son. Kendall. Kendall, this is Mommy’s…” “Boyfriend?” Noah supplied with a slightly teasing smirk, thinking that somehow that description just didn’t adequately describe his feelings at the moment but not knowing what those feelings were exactly. “Nice to meet you, Kendall,” Noah grinned, giving the little boot a playful tug. “Wow! That’s a pretty impressive truck over there,” Noah exclaimed, walking a few feet away and picking up a yellow dump truck, Kendall’s solemn green gaze following him the entire time. “Is this yours? I have an old fire engine at my house with sirens and everything, but I always wanted a cool dump truck like yours. What?” Noah shrugged his shoulders at Katie’s amused laughter, aware of and loving the fact that twin pairs of sparkling green eyes watched his every move, “I’m telling the truth. I had the fire truck, the train, and the police car, but never the dump truck.” “I’m think I’m seeing a new side to you tonight, Noah Bennett,” Katie remarked softly, resting her chin atop the sandy crown of her son’s head and smiling at him. Me too, Noah thought, resisting the urge to kiss her then and there. He took her by the elbow instead, leading her out the door with a quick goodbye to her mother and into the crisp night air. “Ready?” he asked her as the door shut behind them, and they were alone. Just the three of them. Katie took a deep breath and nodded her head slowly. “As I’ll ever be.”

“Who is it?” Abby called, grumbling under her breath as she trudged tiredly to the front door, wholly expecting to see Hank’s wise-ass grin the moment she flung it open. “Hank, I thought I told you…oh. It’s just you,” she muttered, pulling her fuzzy robe around her waist even tighter and practically burrowing inside of it. “Just me, huh?” Shane sighed, pretending to be deeply hurt. “Just me. Maybe I should go.” “Get in here,” Abby rolled her hazel eyes at her brother, yanking his forearm forcefully and making him lurch forward. “This is definitely not the greeting I expected from my loving little sister,” Shane teased, shutting the door and following Abby to the living room where he watched her collapse on the couch in disbelief. He nudged one blue fuzzy slippered foot with his knee and slumped down on the sofa beside her once she lowered them to allow him to pass by. He watched her toe the slippers off and pull her knees up beneath her chin without saying a word. “My sources tell me you and a certain Harmony doctor were caught engaging in a blatant public display of affection a mere twenty-four hours ago. What happened between then and now, Baby Girl?” “Dammit, Shane,” Abby swore softly, cradling her aching head in her left palm, “I thought I told you…” “Not to call you ‘Baby Girl’,” Shane interjected. “I’m sorry, Baby Girl. Talk to me,” he told her, mentally dodging the daggers aimed his way. “Did that bonehead hurt you in some way? I like the guy, but you have to admit, he possesses quite a few…bonehead qualities.” Abby smirked, allowing Shane to guide her head to his shoulder, and she snuggled close to his comforting warmth. "Nick didn’t do anything to me. I haven’t even seen him since yesterday. It’s not Nick, Shane. I’m just…I’m pretty sure I’m coming down with that damn flu bug that’s making the rounds at the hospital, and…and it’s been almost…Shane,” Abby protested weakly as her brother leaned forward, having spied the small box of pictures on the coffee table.

“Almost ten years,” Shane sighed as he remembered the approaching date—an anniversary that had nothing to do with celebration, rubbing his jaw wearily as three youthful faces stared up at him. “Abby, you need to let this go. It’s over and done with, and you’re happy now. Look at me,” Shane whispered softly, grasping Abby’s chin between his fingers firmly and searching her shimmering hazel eyes. “You’re happy now, and both of those bastards are history.” “You’re wrong, Shane. Vincent was the bastard, not…” Words failed Abby as Shane pulled her into a tight embrace, and she clutched handfuls of his sweater in her hands as she held on to him desperately, letting him soothe her tears even as he damned the other man in the photograph. “He left you when you needed him the most, Baby Girl, and I can’t forgive him for that. I won’t. Do you understand me? Do you understand me, Abby?” Shane demanded to know, pulling back and framing each side of her face with his big hands. “It’s not like either one of us is going to see him again anyway,” Abby muttered as she felt the gentle press of her brother’s lips against her forehead. “You’re warm.” “Yeah, and unless you want me to give new meaning to the phrase ‘you make me sick’,” Abby smirked, “you should leave. Just go, Shane. Nick should be home soon. He’ll take care of me.” “If you LET him,” Shane chuckled, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and tucking it around her shoulders. “I’m only leaving because I know how stubborn you are.” “And you’re going to call Nick as soon as you’re outside that door. Don’t even try to deny it. I know you inside out. I’m your sister, remember?” “How the hell could I forget with you reminding me?” Shane teased. “Love you. Let him take care of you…for me, okay?” “I don’t make promises I can’t keep. Shoo, fly. Go back home to Ivy. I’m sure she’s keeping your side of the bed warm,” Abby grumbled as Shane backed out the front door. Three youthful faces stared up at her from the photograph, but one didn’t smile. She didn’t think he ever had.

“I can count to ten in Spanish. We learned how last week in school,” Faith bragged, tucking a stubborn auburn curl back behind her ear as she knelt on the floor beside Jake and MJ who were engaged in a rather competitive video game of basketball. “So?” Jake shrugged, unimpressed. Like he didn’t know how to count to ten in Spanish ages ago. Uncle Luis taught him. “Ali can count PAST ten in Spanish AND French.” Faith frowned, elbowing Jake in the ribs ‘accidentally’ as she crowded in closer. Pest, Jake thought, arching a dark brow at MJ before returning his attention to the television screen in front of them. Faith always acted so jealous like she liked him or something, and it was really gross ‘cause they were cousins! And she reminded him of that little girl with the curl in the middle of her forehead. The one in the poem or riddle. Whatever it was. “I wanna play,” Faith announced, grabbing for the controller in his hands. “Sara’s turn next,” Jake muttered, snatching the controller back away from her with a scowl. That fit had been fun. For as long as he could remember, his little sister had been one heck of a screamer. “But I’m older,” Faith whined, “I should be next. MJ, let me play yours.” “No way,” MJ cried, hiding his hands behind his back. “I’ll scream if I have to,” Faith warned, “then nobody will get to play.” Jake and MJ locked eyes with each other then looked back at Faith. “You want to go show Joshua what flushing the toilet sounds like?” MJ suggested, dark eyes gleaming wickedly. Jake grinned, “Yeah. And then we can…” Faith crossed her arms across her chest and pouted at the television screen in front of her while Jake and MJ convinced Joshua to follow them up the stairs. She HATED boys!

“My turn!” Sara squealed, dropping down in the floor beside her. “Good luck, Uncle Noah.” “Thanks, Sara,” Noah grinned, taking a seat on the other side of Faith. “You’re going to need it,” Sara taunted with an evil little grin. “He’s not your uncle, Stupid. He’s your cousin,” Faith explained haughtily. “Who you calling Stupid?” Sara scowled, “I can call him Uncle Noah if I want to so there.” “You’re such a baby, Sara Bennett,” Faith rolled her blue eyes at the younger girl as she climbed to her feet and stepped over Noah’s sprawled legs. “Am not. Your last name rhymes with turkey. Gobble, gobble. Gobble, gobble.” Noah bit down on the inside of his cheek hard to keep from laughing out loud at the back and forth between the two little girls. They kept him thoroughly entertained until Faith stomped away to the kitchen in surrender. Sara grinned triumphantly at having gotten in the last word. Yeah. She was most definitely his uncle Hank’s flesh and blood. “I don’t think I want to play anymore, Uncle Noah. I’m going to go see if Emmy’s through putting on Myles’s make-up.” Noah leaned his head back and laughed out loud. One fearless warrior and one aspiring make-up artist. There wasn’t a person safe from Emmy’s looted mascara and blush within a mile radius. Noah looked up to find Katie sharing a fairly animated conversation with his mom, his sister, and Gwen several feet away while his mom held Kendall in her lap. He waved at Katie when she glanced in his direction, and he grinned at her smile, feeling very much like a complete sap. He suppressed the childish urge to stick his tongue out at his sister when he saw her knowing expression. He was a grown man, dammit! Even if he seemed to have all the bumbling confidence of a teenaged boy lately. When his dad, Uncle Hank, and Miguel appeared at the front door, arms laden with bags and boxes of food, Noah scrambled to his feet, deciding to save himself any further embarrassment. Jessica already had enough fodder to tease him with for weeks.

Kids seemed to appear from thin air, streaming into the kitchen as dinner was served, and Jake was dissuaded from sitting at the grown-up table when he learned he would have to share the honors with Faith. Emily played the little mother figure for Joshua, Myles, and Kendall, and it was clear that all three little boys were quite smitten. MJ reluctantly took the vacant seat beside Faith, and Noah and Jessica shared a stealthy laugh over his despondent demeanor while Hank and Gwen shared a not-so-secret chuckle over Jake's annoyance at being lumped in with the ‘babies’ once again. Even Sara. The room was bustling with activity as everyone took their seats, and Noah’s breath caught in his throat when he realized that this night, this dinner, was the first time since…the first time they’d been gathered together in one place at one time (minus, Reese) in such a long time. He was hit with an overwhelming sense of regret in that moment, and as he looked around at all the faces that meant so much to him, he vowed not to let the same thing happen again. He looked at his dad, fighting for his composure at seeing Katie sitting in what had been Kay’s regular seat, and made a silent promise not to ever take his family for granted again. Holding his mother’s hand in his own as they said grace, each of their voices lowered in blessing for a person dear to their hearts, he knew he’d keep his word.

Nick let himself into the apartment quietly, his mind occupied with the night’s previous conversations and events. He’d received a spoken invitation tonight to attend Theresa and Chad’s wedding, planned for sometime in the future. He knew the unspoken condition. Sometime when Ali was well. He prayed that time came soon. Listening to Theresa’s excited chatter as he’d said a final goodnight to Ali, he couldn’t help but be swept up by the hope that infused her words. Under his care Ali WOULD get well. The new baby WOULD arrive safe and unhurried. And the absent Paloma and long-lost Antonio WOULD return home to share in their sister’s joy. He wondered idly if Abby’d like to attend the wedding with him, and that train of thought raised some interesting questions in his mind. Questions he didn’t want to deal with at the present time. He was enjoying whatever it was they had together too much to mess it up by labelng it and painting themselves in a corner. He knew Abby felt the same way so he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, loosening the knot of his tie and unbuttoning his shirt on the way to his bedroom. He hung his jacket up inside his closet and stripped down to his boxers, turning on the bedside lamp with a smile. The smile on his face froze when he found the bed empty, and his gray eyes gravitated toward the thin sliver of pale yellow light emanating from Abby’s partially closed bedroom door.

He found Abby sleeping beneath a mound of covers, papers and pictures scattered on the mattress beside her. He gathered the papers and pictures in his hands, pausing to study one photograph in particular before placing them in the box that rest in the armchair, and pulled the blankets back to climb into bed beside her. Whether the man was Vincent or not wasn’t his concern until she decided to talk to him about it, and he didn’t feel comfortable grilling her. He slid his arm around her waist, pulling her closer until they were nose to nose. Glittering hazel eyes fluttered open, and one touch of his palm to Abby’s forehead confirmed Nick’s immediate suspicion. “You’re burning up. Why didn’t you tell me…” “That I feel like hell?” Abby croaked, managing a small smile even as a chill swept down her spine, and she shivered in his arms. “I thought not jumping you the moment you walked in was a pretty damn good clue. Do these pajamas look sexy? See? I didn’t think so. If I were you, Mister, I wouldn’t come near me with a ten-foot pole. Trust me. You don’t want this.” Nick wore a tender smile on his lips as he brushed her tawny hair back off her forehead, his fingers lingering along her jaw. He wrapped his arms around her when she trembled violently against him with the next chill, holding her close as his hands rubbed the heated skin of her back. “What if I want to take my chances?” “Then I’d say you’re a dumbass. A sweet dumbass, but a dumbass all the same,” Abby finally grit out, teeth chattering.

He held her for hours, through the chills, and the fevered confessions. She told him about the man in the picture, Vincent, and how they met at a club when she was still in college. He was a talentless drummer in the worst band she’d ever heard, and she was just a kid sneaking into a nightclub. He bought her a drink, got her drunk, took her back to her dorm room, and left her before the sun rose. “I was so pissed I dumped a pitcher of ice-cold beer down the front of his pants the next time I saw him,” she remembered, and Nick smiled, stroking her hair softly as she pressed her ear to his heart, listening to its steady beat. “Of course, we ended up married,” Abby laughed humorlessly, snuggling deeper into his arms as she recounted their spur of the moment wedding. “Shane never did like Vincent. I never could understand why in the beginning. I knew it all, and I was so sick of my brother playing father to me. God, I was so stupid. Things were okay in the beginning. We hardly saw each other, and we spent the time we had together making love…” Nick felt his entire body tense hearing those words leave Abby’s mouth. He didn’t want to know why the thought of the woman in his arms making love to her own husband bothered him so much. Thankfully, Abby failed to notice his reaction. “I think seeing each other so little…that had a lot to do with our marriage making it past the first year. And the second, third…I was stupid not to divorce him the first time he did it…Shane wanted to kill him, but I let my stubborn pride stop him…I made a fool of myself. Vincent made a fool out of me. I cut my brother out of my life and lived to regret it.” Sweat beaded Abby’s brow, and her hazel eyes were still bright with the remnants of her breaking fever as she pleaded him in a voice battered by past hurt, “Don’t make a fool out of me.” The lump in Nick’s throat prevented a response, and Abby slept, fitfully, in his arms for the rest of the night.

Chapter 73

“How are we doing this morning, Sweetie?” Katie greeted Ali, entering her hospital room with a smile. Ali’s heavy lids fluttered, and she offered Katie a weak smile as she checked her vitals. “Tired? Well, that’s okay,” Katie murmured, inclining her head toward the adjacent hospital bed in the room where Sheridan slept in exhaustion, “it looks like you’re not the only one.” Katie cupped her palm around Ali’s silky cheek and bent down to kiss her forehead lightly. “Do you need anything? Do you want to watch some t.v. before Dr. Nick comes in to check on you?” Katie watched Ali’s blue eyes flit over Sheridan’s still form, and she knew the answer even before it left the little girl’s lips. “No thank you, Katie. Mommy’s real tired. Daddy says she and the baby need rest. Mommy doesn’t listen to Daddy though. She’s too stubborn.”

Katie laughed softly at Ali’s matter-of-fact comment. “And your daddy knows it, doesn’t he? Push the button if you need me, Ali. I need to call and check on Kendall and Noah, but I’ll be back as soon as I’m finished. And I’ll even bring Dr. Nick with me. He’s going to talk to you about the transplant as soon as your daddy gets here.” Katie lingered at the door for a few seconds, making sure Ali was indeed fine before she stepped outside and strode down the hall toward the nurses’ desk. Ellie did little to conceal her curiosity as Katie answered Noah’s breathless “Hello” with a smile on her lips and in her voice, and Katie turned her back on the nosy nurse, unconsciously twirling the phone cord around her fingers as she talked to her two favorite guys.

Nick teasingly shook his dark head at Katie as he walked past, tapping his pen against Ali’s chart. Katie blushed, and Nick bent his head to hide his smile at her reaction from her as she hurriedly ended the conversation and fell into step beside him. “Picking out china patterns yet?” “You’re awfully chipper today,” Katie stated, ignoring his good-natured teasing for the moment, “I wonder…what could be the reason? Maybe I should ask who instead.” “Katie…” Nick warned, gray eyes dancing at her even as his voice scolded her. “Nick,” Katie singsonged, erupting into laughter at the strange looks they were receiving from passers-by, “Nick, come on. When are you going to wake up and smell the coffee?”

Nick’s gray eyes narrowed, and he tucked Ali’s chart beneath his left arm as he lifted his other hand to knock the door. “What’s that supposed to mean? No, really Katie,” Nick continued when Katie’s only answer was an exasperated roll of her green eyes, lowering his arm back to his side. “Are we talking about Abby again, Katie? If we are, I’d like to remind you again that my feelings for Abby are none of your business…” “Feelings?” Katie shot him a triumphant grin, “At least you’re finally admitting you have feelings for her.” Nick restrained himself from cringing at the emphasis Katie put on the word ‘feelings’ and stared at her, blank-faced. “That’s one step in the right direction. Three or four gigantic steps if you ask me…which, of course, you didn’t,” Katie hastily added, making her expression just as bland as Nick’s with extreme difficulty.

Nick raised his hand to the door again, poised to knock, and he heaved an impatient sigh when Katie looked to be bursting at the seams to say something else. “What now?” “It’s just…I don’t think we should go in there. Luis isn’t here yet, and besides…Sheridan’s sleeping, and you know much rest she’s gotten in the past week with the scar e with Ali. The baby too,” Katie reminded him. “Call Lopez-Fitzgerald, Katie. I promise I won’t disturb either of them until he gets here,” Nick promised when Katie looked at him skeptically. “I’m just going to look in on them.” Three steps forward, two steps back, Katie thought with a frown as she watched Nick enter Ali’s hospital room.

“Aunt Theresa?” Cristian’s voice was soft, so soft Theresa hardly heard it over the lively music coming from the CD player in the corner. “Uh huh,” Theresa answered, huffing at the dark tendril that had escaped her ponytail, falling into her eyes. She swept the paintbrush in her hand up and down the bare wall in front of her, smiling at the transformation. The yellow was brightening up the room already. Theresa figured it was about time for some light and happiness to revisit her brother’s home again, even if it was just a little bit of paint.

“What do you think, Cristian?” Theresa quizzed, turning to gauge her little nephew’s reaction. The smile on her face dimmed immediately when she saw him, little face downcast, his arms wrapped around Max’s furry golden shoulders as he tried to hide his tears from her. “Oh, Cristian,” she whispered, laying her brush across the top of the paint bucket and crossing the newspaper-laden floor. A teardrop clinging to the tip of Cristian’s nose fell, wetting the paper below and making the ink blur. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything,” Theresa encouraged as she knelt in front of him, cupping her palm around his damp cheek and waiting. Finally, Cristian looked up at her, and Theresa felt like a fist was squeezing her heart when he asked her a question she really didn’t feel equipped to answer. “What if my cells are bad and don’t make Ali better?”

Theresa crawled over to the space beside Cristian and linked her arm around his tiny waist, pulling him against her side in a tight, breath-stealing hug. “Your cells won’t be bad, Cristian.” Cristian rubbed his tear-streaked cheek against the soft material of Theresa’s loose-fitting, ratty Harmony High sweatshirt, and Theresa had to strain her ears to hear his muffled reply. “But what if they are? What if Ali gets sicker? What if…” Theresa stroked her fingers through Cristian’s thick dark hair, tickling her nails against his scalp in the hopes of calming him like thousands of times before, but she knew this time was much, much different. She pressed her lips against Cristian’s warm skin and pulled him more fully into her lap, bringing them eye to eye. Knowing eyes, she realized as she wiped each and every last tear from his cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt. Eyes that recognized the truth when they saw it, she thought, taking a deep breath and reaching inside herself for the strength to the little boy the truth she knew he deserved.

“Cristian…IF…IF the transplant doesn’t work, and Ali doesn’t get any better, it won’t be your fault. Look at me, Cristian,” she urged when he tried to turn away from her, not believing her words. Cristian’s chin trembled, and fresh tears pooled in the corners of his open, innocent brown eyes as she rubbed her fingers over and over the smooth skin of his tiny hands and talked to him. “It won’t be anybody’s fault. But you know what? I,” Theresa paused to press a kiss to each brown cheek and then one to the pink-tipped nose, “have all the faith in the world that as much as God loves and wants Ali, we—your mommy, your daddy, you and me and Nana and Grandpa Martin, Jake, all of us—we love and want her even more. And God understands that, and He’s going to help us through the scary stuff. I don’t think it’d hurt to remind Him every chance we get though. Do you want to say a prayer for Ali with me, Cristian?” Cristian nodded his dark head in affirmation, and Theresa closed her eyes, willing the painful clench of her heart to relax and let her love for Ali and Cristian give her peace, not pain because of its intensity. “Cristian? Where are you going?” she asked, brown eyes flying open when she felt his weight shift off of her lap. The golden retriever whined beside her, rubbing its muzzle against her palm as it sought affection, and Theresa patted his head absently as she waited for Cristian to speak. “I want to make sure God hears us,” Cristian explained, turning the CD player off.

The newspaper rustled under their knees as they each closed their eyes and started praying softly, and Theresa’s own voice faded to silence as the echo of Cristian’s heartfelt, pleading words reached her ears. Her brown eyes were wet with her own tears by the time Cristian’s prayer was over, and she pulled him into a tight hug until she felt the emotion subside a little. Never one to miss out on family hugs, Max insinuated himself in between them, and Theresa released Cristian, giggling girlishly as the dog licked at her face and thumped his tail against the floor. “You’re nothing but an overgrown puppy, you know that?” she smiled, scratching behind the dog’s ears as she climbed to her feet. “Wanna help?” Theresa asked, picking up the paintbrush she’d abandoned earlier. “Really?” Cristian said in disbelief, looking so adorably awestruck at her offer Theresa just had to laugh. “Really. There’s a couple more brushes on the kitchen counter if you want to get them. I’ll put us some more music on, and we’ll have this nursery finished in no time.” “What about me? Can I help too?” Theresa’s smile grew even brighter at the enthusiastic greeting Cristian gave Ethan, and she knew she didn’t have the heart to disappoint either of them. “Are you sure you’re up to it?” she challenged teasingly, arching a dark brow at him as he handed the manila envelope he’d arrived with to Cristian and stepped into the room. “Are you kidding?” Ethan scoffed, blue eyes twinkling as he removed his suit jacket and unbuttoned the cuffs of his starched shirt to roll the sleeves up. “It’s just a little paint.” “Uh huh,” Theresa giggled, turning her attention back to the wall in front of her. Just a little paint.

“And your number? 555…” Abby’s pen scratched over a blue post-it note as the voice on the other end of the phone slowly recited the number for her. “…your old one was disconnected….Yes…You weren’t the easiest woman to find, Mrs. Jenkins…Okay. Molly it is…I’m sorry you couldn’t make it…He’ll love hearing from you though…Thank you…That’d be nice…I’d love to meet you. Anytime…Listen, Molly…my 10:00 is here…Tonight…Bye, bye.” Abby hung up the phone, tucking the blue post-it into her jacket pocket before rising from her seat and meeting the man she’d secretly dubbed ‘Mr. Pissy Pants’ halfway. The man NEVER smiled, wearing instead a perpetually pissed expression, thus pissing HER off. She’d like nothing better than to never lay eyes on him again, but she had Mr. Homan to think of. Dear, sweet Mr. Homan who just so happened to be nowhere in sight

Abby stepped forward, crowding the man’s personal space, and glared up at him expectantly. “I thought we’d cleared this up when you asked me to be your father-in-law’s therapist again. For reasons I can’t even fathom, seeing me is obviously unpleasant to you. Which is WHY we agreed…or so I THOUGHT…that you wouldn’t come to his sessions. I’m not going to hurt him or rub off on him. I swear. Scout’s honor. Even though I was only technically a scout for a day and a half,” Abby drifted off subject, raking her fingers through her tawny hair and pulling it into a messy ponytail. What the hell?! Abby’s hazel eyes went wide as she watched a muscle in Mr. Pissy Pants’s jaw twitch, and the sour expression slowly transformed into a half-smile. A pitiful half-smile, but a half-smile to be sure. “Careful,” she warned, tongue firmly in cheek, “you might hurt yourself. I’m sure those muscles are just screaming in protestation right now, huh? Oh my God! Now he’s…you’re laughing. Why are you laughing? Was there a pod beside your bed this morning when you woke up?”

“No, but I’m wondering if I should go home and double-check. Actually…” Pod Man lowered his head in what could be…yeah…looked like shame. “A funny thing happened to me this morning when I was helping Dad get dressed for his appointment…” “Tell me about it, ‘cause this…” Abby waved her arm about, pointing directly at him, “you… smiling…it’s definitely freaking me out.” She perched on the edge of her desk, arms crossed across her chest, as she regarded Pod Man like he was…well, like he was an alien from outer space. Which, in all likelihood, he WAS. Nothing could convince her she was wrong on this count. “I realized I’ve been unfair to you. For reasons even **I** can’t explain…” he paused at Abby’s snort of laughter. “You’re what he needs right now. Yes, I’m still concerned that you look so much like her—he still gets so confused. But, from only a couple sessions, I can see a difference in him. He’s not so defeated. He’s…” “Hopeful?” Abby supplied. “So…the Reader’s Digest condensed version…you finally realized I wasn’t the devil incarnate. Good for you. What color sucker you want?” she asked, hazel eyes twinkling as she picked out two lollipops, one red, the other purple, and handed them to him. “Don’t be selfish. Be sure to save one for Lissy. See you in 60, Pod Man. There’s something I want to discuss with Mr. Homan so we’ll be a little later than usual.” “Just so you know…it’s Christopher…Chris. For future reference. Pod Man’s already getting old,” he explained, tucking the suckers in his shirt pocket. “I still don’t think you’re a good influence,” he called after her as she backed down the hallway toward Mr. Homan’s wheelchair. “That’s okay,” Abby grinned, giving him a wink as she grabbed the handles and started pushing Mr. Homan forward. “NOBODY does.”

“Do you have any questions about the transplant, Ali?” Nick inquired, handing Ali’s chart to Katie as he leaned forward and took one of Ali’s small hands in his own. “I know I told you a lot of information, but I don’t want you to let it scare you. I’m going to take care of you, Ali. I promise.” “I know, Dr. Nick,” Ali said quietly, letting go of Nick’s hand and leaning back into Sheridan’s comforting embrace tiredly. “My medicine will be stronger, and it might make me sicker…” “But you need the stronger medicine so you’ll be ready for the new bone marrow, AliCat,” Luis explained, removing one of his hands from Sheridan’s shoulders to clasp Ali’s hand. “Will I have to stay in that hospital room you told me about all by myself?” Ali’s blue eyes searched Nick’s gray eyes for answers. “My daddy has to give me kisses every night,” she whispered, her sweet voice cracking. “You won’t be by alone, Ali. You’ll have lots of people that care about you nearby, including me and Katie. But your medicine is going to make you weak, and you remember when I explained your immune system to you, Ali?” Ali nodded slowly, little golden brow creased in slight confusion as she grabbed Sheridan’s hands in her own, nervously twisting the rings on her fingers around and around. “Well, your immune system’s going to be ‘sick’ for a while, Ali, and it’s not going to be able to take as good of care of you as it normally does. That means we’re going to have to help it, and one of the ways we’re going to do that is by wearing gowns, gloves, and masks to protect it and you from our germs. Whoever visits you will have to wear the gowns, gloves, and masks. Do you understand, Ali?”

“Yeah. I guess I do,” Ali murmured softly, lifting Sheridan’s hands to her cheek and rubbing her face against them as she studied Nick solemnly. “How long will I have to stay in there?” “A few weeks,” Nick answered her, “Until we can be sure you’re well, and Cristian’s bone marrow works.” “You won’t hurt Cristian, will you?” Ali’s voice rose an octave as her agitation at the possibility grew, ‘Cause if you’re going to hurt him, I don’t want the transplant. You can’t hurt my brother. You can’t scare him either. I won’t let you.” “Does Cristian know how lucky he is to have you as his big sister?” Katie spoke for the first time, offering Ali a bright smile. Ali ducked her head to hide her smile at Katie’s comment. “Cristian will be asleep. He’ll be a little sore when he wakes up, but he won’t feel it when we take his bone marrow, Ali. Your little brother is very, very brave to do something like this for you, and he wants to help you more than anything so I don’t think he’ll be frightened at all.” “But you’re going to use a needle to get it,” Ali frowned, “Cristian HATES needles. They make him cry.” “Cristian knows about the needles, Sweetie,” Sheridan murmured, slipping her arms around Ali’s shoulders and hugging her close, “and he STILL wants to help you.” “He does, AliCat,” Luis echoed his wife’s words. “You know he loves you BEST,” he teased, meeting Ali’s blue, blue eyes. “Looks like we have all the bases covered, Doll,” Katie told Ali, blinking back her own tears at Ali’s concern for Cristian. “Trust us, okay?” “Okay,” Ali whispered in response. “Dr. Nick…I’m ready. Make me better.”

Chapter 74

“Just a little paint, huh?” Theresa teased when Ethan plopped down in the barstool at Cristian’s left. “You have a little smudge,” she leaned forward, across the counter, and dabbed at Ethan’s cheek with the dishtowel in her hand, “right…there. Got it. And you,” she turned to Cristian with a giggle, oblivious to Ethan’s blue eyes following her every motion, “look like you’re wearing war paint.” Cristian giggled as she dropped the dishtowel on the bar and zeroed in on his tummy with her questing fingers, tickling him silly. “Stop! Stop, Aunt Theresa! Please,” Cristian gasped breathlessly, squirming away from her and off the stool. “No!” he shrieked, darting out of the kitchen when she started to advance on him again. The open happiness of her smile and the affection evident in her brown eyes brought a smile to Ethan’s own lips, and for a brief moment, he wanted to touch the sun again and remember the scary thrill of living life wide open, without the cautious sensibility that ruled his days.

“Ethan? Ethan, have you heard a word I’ve said?” Theresa waved a hand in front of his face with a goofy smile on her face at his blank expression. “I’m sorry, Theresa,” Ethan apologized, shaking his head to clear it of his earlier thoughts, “you, uh…” “Lost you for a second?” Theresa teased, tucking a dark strand of hair back behind her ear as she whirled around and pulled open the refrigerator, brown eyes scanning its contents. “I asked if you wanted to stay for dinner. Chad’s still in New York, and Luis will probably only pop in for a change of clothes and to spend a little time with Cristian before he heads back to the hospital. Cristian and I would love the company. Beth’s invited too. You can go into the living room and call her while I get dinner started.” “Theresa, I…” Ethan began awkwardly. “I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer, Mister. Get on the phone and call your wife,” Theresa ordered, falling into giggles again at the slightly stunned expression on Ethan’s face as he got up from his stool and walked into the living room. “Wife. It still feels so weird saying that.”

“Face it, Sam. Hook, line, and sinker,” Hank nodded in Noah and Kendall’s direction with a grin. “Hell. I’m surprised Grace doesn’t have him calling her ‘Grandma’ already. What’s one more? This place is already teeming over with little boys. Sar included,” Hank couldn’t resist adding his tomboyish daughter to the ranks. “It’s getting serious,” Sam agreed, though not as lightheartedly as his brother. “He’s joining the Harmony P.D.” Hank’s brown eyes took in the exhausted slump of his brother's shoulders, and his unwillingness to meet his eyes. “What gives, Sam? You’re not acting like the proud father.” Sam sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he glanced at Noah keeping Kendall amused across the living room. “I’m just not sure if it’s really what he wants. You know Noah, Hank.” “Yeah. I know Noah, and doubts only make him work harder to prove you wrong. Let him make his own mistakes…not that I’m so sure he’s making one…” Hank was quick to add.

“Noah,” Grace called, appearing at the kitchen entranceway, “Do you want to give Kendall his dinner or should I do it?” “Thanks, Mom. I’ll do it,” Noah answered, standing up and hefting Kendall over his head. The little boy’s face froze into a momentary expression of panic until Noah lurched forward, making airplane noises, then he was all smiles and shrieking giggles. “Hook, line, and sinker, Sam,” Hank repeated when the pair had disappeared into the kitchen. “Think they’ll take the little tyke on the honeymoon?” Grace’s blue eyes twinkled at him as she wrapped her arms around his neck in a quick hug, and Hank winked at his brother before planting a noisy kiss on Grace’s cheek and making her laugh. “Stay for dinner?” Grace asked, leaning back into her husband’s waiting arms.

“Applesauce and that nasty-looking green stuff?” Hank asked with a melodramatic shudder. “I’ll save my appetite, thanks. I have to pick up the girls from Becs’s before Sar calls 9-1-1 again just to see her turn purple with panic when the entire police force shows up, sirens flashing. The lecture Luis gave her went in one ear and out the other. He could barely keep a straight face,” Hank remembered with a chuckle. “Listen…thanks, Grace, for the invitation, but me and the girls are going to pick up a couple pizzas on our way home and have them waiting when Gwen and the Little Buddy get back from the hospital. Say bye to Noah and Kendall for me. See you, Sam,” Hank promised as he tugged his leather jacket on and opened the door, grinning as he tipped his imaginary hat to the new arrival standing there with her hand poised in the air, ready to knock. “Katie Bennett has kind of a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” Hank couldn’t resist one last parting shot. “And he wonders where Sara gets it from,” Sam muttered under his breath, chuckling at Katie’s flaming cheeks as Grace invited her inside.

“Wondering what they’re talking about in there?” Gwen smirked, tugging gently on Sheridan’s arm. “Come on, Sher. You don’t want to be the kind of mother that’s constantly butting into your kid’s love life, do you, because it looks like you’re getting a head start.” Gwen laughed at the slightly stricken expression on her friend’s face, steering her down the hall toward the nearest row of chairs. “Is it possible to have a love life at 9 years old?” Sheridan asked. “This from the woman who admits to dreaming about a tall, dark stranger rescuing her since she was a little girl? How did you feel about that stranger, Sher? Even when you thought it was silly, you loved him. You had a love life. Of sorts,” Gwen couldn’t keep a straight face, especially not with Sheridan rolling her eyes beside her. “Okay. So maybe I’m stretching it a little. Now, sit down before Luis gets one of those gut feelings of his and drives all the way back here just to read me the riot act about not keeping you off your feet.” “Just a little,” Sheridan agreed, following Gwen’s ‘suggestion’ without complaint for once. “Read YOU the riot act? What about me?” “The man loves you, Sheridan. He knows you’re too stubborn to listen to a damned thing he says. That, dear friend, is why he’s going to read ME the riot act for not keeping you in line so behave,” Gwen muttered, shifting in her seat and craning her neck in the direction of Ali’s hospital room, “I wonder what they’re talking about in there.”

“…and she hit him with the ball! You should have seen Dad, Ali. His eyes got all big like this,” Jake demonstrated, making his brown eyes as wide as possible, “and he staggered around like his legs were made of jello…” Ali propped her chin on top of her pink bunny and curled her legs beneath herself, giggling as Jake stumbled around her hospital room. He really did look like Uncle Hank. Just…not much smaller. “Then he flopped onto the ground, kind of like a fish, and played dead until Sara ran from 2nd base to check on him. Sara was so mad when Dad tagged her out. She bugged him and bugged him, and Dad’s going to sign her and Emmy up to play tee-ball when it gets warmer. Your aunt Theresa’s supposed to ask your mom and dad if Cristian can play with them. Has she?” “I don’t know,” Ali answered, “I don’t think so.” “Anyway,” Jake continued, “Dad says it’ll toughen them up for kindergarten next year, but I don’t think Sar needs toughening up. Do you, Ali? She’s mean enough. Mom says she learned it all from me,” Jake told her, puffing his chest out somewhat proudly. “I don’t think you’re mean,” Ali revealed in a soft voice that made Jake feel even more proud, and he walked back over to the side of Ali’s bed with a self-satisfied grin.

Ali scooted over on the bed to make room for him, and they sat side by side, watching cartoons together and laughing at them from time to time. Just like old times, Jake thought, casting a sidelong glance in Ali’s direction and smiling just because she was smiling. Girl or not, he’d missed having her around something awful, he realized, unconsciously inching closer to her until their shoulders touched. And he felt he ought to tell her or somehow show her how much, considering, and his mouth opened once or twice before a noise ever came out in high-pitched word that sounded something like her name. “Ali. No, no! Don’t…don’t look over here,” Jake panicked, sure his heart was going to beat right out of his chest when her pretty blue eyes were suddenly staring at him. “Don’t look,” he pleaded, wiping his newly sweaty palms on the legs of his jeans, “just…just close your eyes so I can…so… okay, Ali? Keep ‘em closed…” Ali’s pale lashes fluttered against her cheeks, and Jake gulped nervously as he did the same and silently counted to three before his lips touched Ali’s cheek in a kiss as gentle and quick as the brush of a butterfly’s wings. Jake blushed under the sparkling brilliance of Ali’s answering smile and ducked his dark head in embarrassment, shrugging his shoulders as he muttered under his breath. “I didn’t get you a present for your birthday so…” Ali’s hand crept across the tiny distance between them, and Jake felt a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he felt her small fingers slide through his. “If you tell anybody…”

She was singing (badly) at the top of her lungs to the loud rock music that filled the entire apartment and dancing around the small interior of the kitchen with a total lack of inhibition, and Nick loved it. He leaned against the wall, cast in shadow, and just observed her, a smile of amusement on his lips as she tried to do five things at once. Before his very eyes, what he assumed to be their dinner went up in smoke, and apparently Abby decided ‘to hell with it,’ tossing the skillet—food and all—into the sink. He chuckled when she ran one manicured nail down the takeout list posted on the fridge and started relaying the choices to the black furball rubbing itself against his legs in search of affection. “What do you think, Lucky? Are you in the mood for leftover Chinese or Italian? What’s that? Chinese? Out of luck, you ball of fur. Italian sounds better for a nice, romantic…” Nick knew the moment she saw him. Her jaw fell open, and those hazel eyes he was so fond of flashed with utter surprise while the words “birthday dinner” left her mouth in a stunned whisper. He tossed his jacket across the back of the chair closest to him and stepped forward, loosening the knot of his tie. “Did I say romantic?” Abby babbled. “I really meant…” she fished for a replacement word, finally settling on one she really seemed to like, “ruined. Like ruined surprise! Geez, some people call when they’re coming home early.” “Really?” Nick smirked, taking the phone out of her hand and setting it down on the kitchen counter. “I thought it was the other way around. It’s not a ruined surprise,” he told her, taking her hand and pulling her into the living room as the CD’s switched in the CD player, and a slow song started playing. “I don’t think anyone’s ever celebrated my birthday before. Thank you.” Nick was pleased with how well they moved together. He slowly spun her around, making her laugh as he started to maneuver them both toward his open bedroom. She was still babbling about the cake when the lock clicked into place, and his fingers undid the tiny pearl buttons down the front of her shirt, peeling it from her shoulders and arms to let it fall to the floor.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Abby whispered later, hazel eyes smiling directly into gray and arms resting low on Nick’s waist as they lay side by side, facing each other, “but all of our ‘dates’ end up the same. You kiss me. I kiss you. Before you know it, we’re both naked…” she trailed off as Nick’s hand slipped beneath the sheets at their waists, hooking under her knee and draping her thigh across his hip as he pulled her even closer to him. Abby shivered as his knuckles brushed against the side of her breast, and her nails dug lightly into his lower back as the same hand continued traveling down her side, barely skimming her skin until it came to rest at the small of her back, directly over her tattoo. “So it takes more than just great sex and feeding you to keep you around?” Nick teased, running his hand along her thigh as he leaned forward to steal a tiny kiss from her lips. “Don’t you mean phenomenal sex? A little conversation would be nice,” Abby smirked, “and not of the drunken or fever-induced variety.” Nick’s hand left her thigh, and his fingers were gentle as he tucked a strand of tawny hair falling across her eyes like a veil behind her ear. “I’ll forget everything you told me about him if you want me to.” Abby pressed her mouth against the thumb that traced over her lips and shook her head. “Okay,” Nick murmured. “We’re both sober…talk to me. What’s your favorite color?” “Favorite color, huh? Depends on my mood. Right now I’d have to say gray,” Abby answered, hazel eyes twinkling. “That one was too easy. Ask me something else.” Nick’s palm opened over the small of her back, and his fingers traced the brilliant pattern he knew to be there. “The sun…why?” Abby took her time in replying, so long Nick began to wonder why a seemingly simple question was so hard to answer. “I lost my whole world in one night, but I needed to believe life would go on,” she whispered, hazel eyes vulnerable and shimmering with sudden tears. ‘Corny, huh?” she said, her laugh ending up sounding more like a sob. Nick pulled her into a tight hug, wishing her hurt away.

Luis tucked the covers in around his sleeping son’s shoulders, running a loving hand over Cristian’s cheek before he crept away in the darkness, careful not to wake him. He pulled the door shut behind him, his dark eyes thanking Theresa without words when she handed him the duffel bag filled with Sheridan’s and Ali’s things, and he hugged her close before releasing her and walking into the kitchen where Ethan and Beth remained. “Beth…Ethan…Thanks for coming. Sorry I can’t stay longer, but…” “It’s okay, Luis,” Beth spoke reassuringly, wrapping her arms around him in a friendly embrace and kissing his cheek. “Ethan,” Luis offered his hand to the younger man, giving Ethan’s hand a firm shake. “Theresa, didn’t you say Sheridan had some mail?” Luis asked, jingling his keys in his pocket as he waited for his sister to retrieve the mail for him. “I think this is it,” Theresa told him, handing him a heaping stack of mail—mostly cards filled with well wishes for Ali and the family. Luis flipped through the stash quickly, removing a few items and handing them off to Theresa. “You know what, Sis? Why don’t you keep most of this? I don’t have time to go through everything tonight. I’ll be back in the morning. Theresa, I’m so sorry,” Luis apologized, kneeling beside his sister when the mail fluttered to the kitchen floor. “It was my fault. I let go too soon. Let me…” Ethan paled when Luis’s hand closed over the manila envelope he’d brought over earlier, now open with papers scattered in plain sight, and Beth looked at him in concern. “Ethan, aren’t those the documents you brought over for Sheridan this morning?” Theresa commented innocently, picking one of the papers up and handing it to her brother. “Documents, Ethan? What kind of…” Luis’s voice trailed off as he scanned the paper. “Sheridan’s trust fund? What the hell is going on here?”

Chapter 75

“What happened to the Little Buddy, Babe?” Hank’s voice was a low whisper in Gwen’s ear. “He’s grinning like he won the lottery.” Gwen glanced at their son, sitting at the kitchen table with his sisters and enjoying pepperoni pizza, and remembered the matching brilliant smile on Ali’s sweet face as they’d said their goodbyes a few short hours ago. “Maybe he did,” Gwen answered, smirking at her husband. “Bennett…what do you think would have happened if we’d met as children?” “Hate at first sight. Definitely. The little debutante and Luis’s shrimpy sidekick?” Hank grinned. “No way. Luis always got the girl—and I annoyed the hell out of her.” “You mean you didn’t have an Ali?” Gwen teased, bringing her glass of iced water to her lips. “There was this one girl…Hell. Beth wanted Luis, too,” Hank admitted, looking crestfallen for nearly half a second before the grin was back, and he was reaching for her and setting the glass on the kitchen counter, pulling her up against him and making her laugh down at him.

“Let me fix that,” Gwen murmured, toeing off her heels. She lifted a hand to her mouth to cover the wide smile when her gesture didn’t do much at all to fix the height differential. “Too bad for Becs that you proved my theory wrong,” Hank said, not looking sorry at all, “I guess opposites DO attract. Some of them anyway.” Gwen laughed softly as she leaned forward to bestow a quick kiss on his cheek. “Tall, dark, and handsome heroes are overrated. I’ll take the shrimpy sidekick any old day.” “Are you saying you’re my Ali, Babe?” Hank couldn’t resist asking. Gwen sneaked another glance at their grinning son over her shoulder and turned back to Hank, who was wearing a remarkably similar expression. “Does that make you my Jake? Are you going to wipe away my kisses, Bennett?” she teased, arching a golden brow at him. “Fat chance. You see there is where the Little Buddy and I differ. I would NEVER pass up the chance to be kissed by a beautiful woman…I mean a woman as beautiful as you…I mean…now would be a good time to shut me up with a kiss before I choke to death on my own foot,” Hank suggested, flashing her a sheepish smile. “Really, Bennett,” Gwen said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head at him as she snaked her arms around his neck, “if I didn’t love you…”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say someone is jealous,” Abby teased Nick, hazel eyes dancing as she set the bags of food she’d just paid the delivery guy for on the kitchen table. “You answered the door naked,” Nick muttered, removing the cartons of Chinese food from the bags while Abby searched the cabinets for a couple of glasses. “I wasn’t naked,” Abby laughed, standing on tiptoe to grab two goblets from the top shelf, “I had your shirt on, and it’s ten sizes too big. He couldn’t see anything, Nick, and anyway…he wasn’t looking. From what I could tell, he was barely out of braces. That driver’s license he carries in his wallet is probably all of two weeks old.” Nick’s gray eyes took in the mussed tawny hair framing her face, the kiss-swollen lips, and the lightly tanned skin that seemed to be showing everywhere despite the white dress shirt that, in all honesty, swallowed her petite frame whole, and he repeated his earlier words, “He was definitely looking.” “Okay, maybe he was,” Abby relented, hiding her smile from him as she poured two glasses of wine, “it’s not like you have to worry about him stealing me away. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me…as long as you want me,” Abby added quietly, slightly embarrassed at her slip of the tongue. Damn her babbling mouth! Just because he was slightly jealous didn’t mean he was actually in love with her or anything like that. “I’m not sure Chinese and birthday cake mix all that well,” she blurted before any words could leave Nick’s mouth, “but you’re the birthday boy, and whatever you want…”

Nick swept her tawny hair off her shoulder, pressing his lips against her neck and smiling when she shivered against him. “Whatever I want?” he asked, reaching over her shoulder and bypassing the glasses for the entire bottle of wine. “Aren’t you coming?” he grinned, pausing in the doorway to his bedroom and looking so damned delectable Abby had half a mind to forget all about dinner for the second time that evening if she didn’t have knots forming in her stomach at that precise moment. Dear God. Why did it suddenly bother her so much to think Nick’s feelings for her didn’t…that he didn’t…”Give me a minute, will you?” she finally trusted her voice enough to answer him. “Don’t take too long,” Nick told her, crossing the threshold and pulling the door closed behind him.

Abby immediately whirled around, searching for the cordless phone. golly , golly , golly . MJ was right. Hank didn’t know the half of it. She was in SERIOUS trouble here, and WHY the hell was she just realizing it? She punched the numbers frantically without thinking, slamming the phone down on the counter when an answering machine picked up on the other end and Miguel’s voice asking her to leave a message presented her with an awful reminder. The one person, the only person, capable of calming her at this moment was gone. God, Abby. Calm down, she silently berated herself, don’t freak out because you realize you lo…She couldn’t even say the words to herself. She was WAY past freaking out. “Abby?” Abby jumped nearly two feet into the air at the sound of Nick’s voice so close by. Nick reached past her to pick up the ringing phone, and the knots in Abby’s stomach coiled even tighter at the sadness in his gray eyes as he turned the phone off. “Nick?” “I…I have to leave, Abby. Will you call the airport and get me on the next flight to Boston? I’ll call Dr. Matthews on my cell and ask him to oversee Ali’s treatment for a couple days…” Nick’s voice trailed off as he disappeared into the bedroom. Abby stared at the phone Nick had left in her hand in dumbfound silence. What the hell had just happened?

Chapter 76

“Luis took the news better than I expected,” Ethan mused, cupping his hands around the steaming mug of coffee Beth had just presented to him, “he didn’t hit me.” “Lucky for you,” Beth told him, hoping the twinkle in her eyes wasn’t completely visible, “I still think she should have told him from the beginning though, Ethan. The look in his eyes…” she trailed off with a sigh as she took the seat opposite him. “It was Aunt Sheridan’s…” Ethan’s spoon clinked against the ceramic mug as he stirred his coffee, and his blue eyes narrowed when the bells at the front of the Book Café tinkled, “decision. Mother didn’t come home last night before I fell asleep. She’s always at the cottage. Do you think they’re sleeping together?”

Beth gave Ivy and Shane a friendly wave then turned back to Ethan to find him pouting like a child. “It’s their business, Ethan. What do you care? Your mother seems happy. I think Shane’s good for her. God, you’re so territorial about the women in your life. You may want to rethink your ideas that you and Luis don’t have anything in common,” Beth rolled her eyes, getting up from her seat and meeting Shane and Ivy halfway. “Territorial? I’m not territorial. I do not urinate on Mother’s leg,” Ethan muttered to himself, thinking it best to hide his gnashing teeth behind his coffee mug as Shane approached. And he used to like the man.

“Morning, Ethan,” Shane nodded, “mind if I…?” “Take it. Make yourself welcome,” Ethan added under his breath. “Good morning, Darling,” Ivy descended on them, giving Shane a special smile that had Ethan seeing red while Beth just groaned softly beside him. She expected a ‘Mother, what about me?’ to spill from Ethan’s frowning mouth any minute now. “How was your dinner last night, Dear?” Ivy asked distractedly, smiling at something Shane whispered in her ear. “Dinner was fine until Luis nearly killed me for helping Aunt Sheridan keep a secret from him,” Ethan answered her, pleased with the realization he now had her full attention. “Ethan!” Beth hissed, “Ivy, he’s exaggerating. Luis was upset. That’s all.” “It’s the money, isn’t it?” Ivy surmised. “No matter how much they love each other, Sheridan’s money—Crane money, has always been an issue with Luis because of his feelings toward Julian and Alistar,” Ivy explained to Shane. “But his hate for Sheridan’s Crane money pales in comparison to his love for her and the children. I hope he remembers that.”

“I can’t do it. Names are hard, Daddy,” Ali sighed, dropping her pencil and notepad to her lap and crossing her arms about her chest. “Names ARE hard, AliCat,” Luis agreed, perching on the edge of Ali’s bed and cupping her stubbornly set jaw in the palm of his hand. “Your mommy and I didn’t know what we were going to name you either, but from the moment we laid eyes on you, we knew you were definitely an ‘Ali’.” “Daddy,” Ali giggled, helpless to hide the blush on her cheeks under Luis’s intent gaze. “But it’s Aunt Theresa’s store. Store names are different.” “The store will name itself. Now your new baby sister…” Luis teased, “that’s another story. Got any suggestions, AliCat?” Ali’s blue eyes twinkled with excitement. “You mean I get to name the new baby too? What about Cristian? She’s his baby too.”

A gentle smile graced Sheridan’s lips at Ali’s newfound energy and hopefulness, and her sleep-heavy lids fluttered open at Ali’s comment. “She’s everybody’s baby,” she answered, easing herself into a sitting position carefully, “and maybe we should meet her first before we give her a name. We don’t want to name her Esmeralda if she’s really more of an Ariel, do we?” Ali giggled, “What if she’s a Jasmine?” “Or a Pocahontas?” Sheridan responded, causing Ali to giggle even harder and flash Luis a brilliant smile. “Pocahontas Lopez-Fitzgerald,” Ali tried it out, her button nose scrunching up, “Mommy, that sounds…” “Weird?” Sheridan laughed, standing up and taking a seat on Ali’s free side. Ali gladly accepted her kiss good morning, wrapping her arms around her neck and smiling into her eyes. “Ms. Kinsay’d have to give her two sheets of paper to write her name on.” “Are you two making fun of my name?” Luis’s tone was teasing, but the humor didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “Sort of,” Ali admitted with a sheepish smile, “but it’s my name too, Daddy, and I like it.” “Who? Me? I LOVE my name,” Sheridan went one step further than Ali, her bright smile freezing with Luis’s “Which one?”

“Mommy?” Ali’s blue eyes welled with concern as an awkward silence descended on the room, and her parents seemed to stare at each other for several minutes without saying anything. She didn’t understand what was going on, and it scared her. “Lopez-Fitzgerald, Daddy,” Ali answered for her mother. “Mommy, is something wrong?” Ali whispered worriedly. She gripped her daddy’s forearms are he cupped his big hands around her face and kissed her on the forehead. “Nothing’s wrong, AliCat.” Ali looked to her mommy for confirmation, and her relief was only minimal when Sheridan answered her by nodding her head and telling her nothing was wrong. If nothing was wrong, why did she sound like something was? “Mommy, do you want to see the new cards Daddy brought me?” Ali asked, hoping to bring the beautiful smile back to her mommy’s face, “You got some mail too. It’s in this really big envelope. Daddy won’t tell me what it is, but it looks really important. Here,” Ali handed over the manila envelope, watching her mommy’s face expectantly as she carefully drew a bunch of papers out and scanned over them. “These are…Luis. Luis, wait. Luis, don’t…” “Good morning, Ali…Mrs. Lopez-Fitzgerald,” Dr. Matthews greeted with a smile as he entered the room on the heels of her daddy’s departure, adding to Ali’s already mounting confusion, “There’s been a slight change of plans. Dr. Taylor’s been called out of town, and he asked me to oversee your treatment for the next couple of days. Provided there are no objections. Are there any?”

“You’re lucky I love you more than my luggage,” Abby winked at Miguel as she dumped the load of clothes in her arms into the washer, “I don’t get all domestic for anybody.” “Abby, you didn’t have to…” Miguel protested half-heartedly before Abby cut him off. “Things are crazy. From the looks of MJ’s and Joshua’s not-so-white clothes, you need the expertise of someone that knows how to wash colors. You need a woman like me,” she told him with a teasing grin as she patted his cheek affectionately, “I promise. That wasn’t a come-on.” Miguel laughed, a sound so foreign from his lips these past few months Abby wasn’t sure she’d really heard it. “Good. You still know how to do it. Have you eaten, Miguel? I’m not the cook Pilar is, but I’m not too shabby. Kay taught me how to make Joshua’s favorite omelet…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…She’s been on my mind a lot lately,” Abby divulged with a shaky sigh, grateful as Miguel opened his arms to her, and she felt them wrap around her tightly, “I miss her.” “It’s okay,” Miguel reassured her, “Everybody’s been so careful not to mention her name lately, but all I really want to do is talk about her with someone else that was close to her. That knew the same Kay I knew.” Abby offered Miguel a watery smile when his arms fell away from her. “You know what? An omelet sounds nice. I’ll go wake Joshua.”

“Joshua…quiet,” Miguel raised a finger to his lips during one of his son’s infrequent pauses in making a royal racket with the various pots and pans at his feet. Abby waved him off as she dried the last dish and placed it back in the cupboard, “He’s just making up for lost time, Dad. Seriously, Miguel…he’s not bothering me. Sit down. Talk. We can spill our guts to each other, and I won’t tell a soul. We’re not actually engaging in ‘girl’ talk. Although I don’t know what you’d call it if…well, anyway…I’ll go first…” Abby reached for Miguel’s hand, giving it a friendly squeeze. “Something happened last night, something completely unexpected, and I freaked out. And… naturally…I called her,” Abby’s voice was thick with emotion, “I called Kay, and your voice came over the telephone. Just your voice on the answering machine. And it hit me. Right here…” Miguel’s dark eyes lowered to his and Abby’s joined hands resting over her heart, and he looked back up to find her hazel eyes filled with tears. “I mean really hit me. Her absence was suddenly so REAL to me. And you don’t want to listen to this because it IS real to you and the boys. It’s BEEN real. Miguel, I’m sorry. I’m being selfish and insensitive…” Abby cried as Miguel pulled her into his arms again, burying her face in the crook of his neck and holding onto him for dear life. “No, you’re being honest, Abby,” Miguel murmured, stroking her tawny hair somewhat awkwardly, “You’re being you.” “Yeah,” Abby sniffed, pulling away from him and wiping her nose with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, “a blubbering big mouth. Your turn, Miguel. And the whole gratuitous boob grabbage? Still not a come-on. I swear. I’m in love with a man in love with an illusion, and I don’t know what the hell to do about it. Point is I’m taken. Whether I can help it or not. Anytime now, Miguel. Geez…when I said spill our guts, I didn’t mean for things to get so messy. Talk. Please.”

“I was counting to 50,” Miguel teased her gently, “it was a trick Kay always used when she was waiting to get a word in edgewise.” “Again…you’re lucky I love you and yours more than my luggage. Your ass would have been so kicked,” Abby laughed softly as she got up to refill their coffee mugs, “Look at me. Like I need more caffeine. You’re fresh out of juice. Hell. You’re fresh out of everything. When’s the last time you went shopping?” “I thought it was my turn to talk,” Miguel grinned, lifting his impatient son up and perching him on the edge of the kitchen counter. “Hi, Joshua,” Abby crooned, stroking the sunny cheeks with the pads of her fingers as the two of them shared a smile, “how would you like if it I took you and your daddy shopping?” Joshua answered her with a giggle, looping his arms around her neck and twining his short legs around her waist. He patted her tawny hair softly as she hitched him onto her hip and turned to Miguel. “Actions speak louder than words. Grab your wallet, Miguel.” “He loves women,” Miguel chuckled, shrugging on his jacket and stuffing his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. “All Lopez-Fitzgerald men do,” Abby treated him to another roll of her hazel eyes, “Come on. You know you’ll have more fun with me than Pilar or Grace. I’ll even let you buy junk food.” “Don’t you have to work?” Miguel asked with a tiny smirk. “Work? Shame on you for saying four-letter words in front of your young, impressionable son. This is Harmony. Nobody works in this town,” Abby winked as she draped Joshua’s heavy jacket around his tiny shoulders, “They all canceled. It seems nobody, including Nick, wants my company today so you understand why you can’t refuse me, don’t you? I’ll be crushed.” “Okay, but I’m driving,” Miguel told her, “and I’m buying as much junk food as I want.” “You’ve got a deal,” Abby grinned.

It was windier on the rooftop, and the air seemed colder. Crisper somehow. She knew, looking at his strong profile, that he probably regretted his actions earlier in Ali’s hospital room, but that thought brought her little comfort. Luis’s strange behavior along with Nick’s mysterious absence had really thrown Ali, and it hadn’t been much of a surprise to Sheridan when Ali burst into tears just seconds after Dr. Matthews’s harmless enough question. After all, she’d felt much the same way. One minute they’d been laughing together. The next minute she’d felt like her heart was in her throat. “I’m not sorry I did it, Luis. I’m just sorry I didn’t tell you from the beginning,” she told him, taking careful steps toward him across the slippery surface. “Dammit, Sheridan! I came up here because…” “…you thought I’d be a good girl and not take the stairs? Luis, you know me better than that,” Sheridan scoffed, tugging the edges of her coat tighter around her rounded belly. “Sometimes you make me doubt myself,” Luis answered, staring at her so hard she fought the urge to flinch. Instead she shivered as a particularly bone-chilling wind swirled around them, and she could see the struggle within Luis not to step forward and play her protector. To wrap his own heavy coat around her shoulders and lead her back inside to the relative warmth of the stairwell.

“You know me, Luis,” she sighed, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth, “you know I wouldn’t use the Crane money to hurt you. Dammit, Luis. Something has to give. Something has to turn the tide in our favor, and I may not have used the best judgment or gone about it the right way, but you know hurting you was never my intention. I just wanted to take some of the pressure off of you.” “And bear it on your own shoulders? I know that, Sheridan. Don’t you think I know that?” Luis admitted with a weary sigh, his proud stance worn down by disappointment, “that’s why, no matter how hard I try, I can’t be angry at you. I’m just frustrated. Disappointed that you felt it had to be this way when it didn’t. You could have come to me. We could have decided to do this together. No secrets between us.” “I’m being honest with you now, Luis,” Sheridan promised solemnly, taking one of his hands between both of hers and placing it over their child, “I won’t make anymore decisions without you, and I won’t ever give you reason to doubt yourself or me again. I love you too much for that, Luis.” Her cheeks were damp with their mingled tears and the moisture of melting snowflakes as he pulled away from their tender kiss of reaffirmation and placed a supporting arm around her waist, leading her out of the cold. “I should have known you were stubborn enough to follow me up here…”

Chapter 77

Theresa chewed on the end of her pencil in thought, dark brows creased. Coming up with the guest list for her and Chad’s wedding had seemed like a fun alternative to watching the weather forecaster prattle on about the possibility of snow and sleet in the evening and night hours earlier, but now…she wasn’t so sure. Her head ached as she scanned the list for the hundredth time, hoping to come up with at least one name she could cross off of the list to make room for Chad’s guests. It was simply too hard.

“Maybe you should have an outdoor wedding, Sis,” Miguel teased, shrugging his coat off and draping it across the back of the sofa before he took a seat beside her. Theresa leaned forward to place her notepad on the coffee table then turned to hug her brother, “Miguel, I didn’t even hear you come in.” “That’s because Jake and MJ are still outside playing with Max,” Miguel smirked. “Where’s Cristian? I thought you knew I was picking him up.” “Cristian’s with Mama and Papa, and they should be back any minute. **I** should be the one asking you questions,” Theresa giggled, “like do you think you can handle Jake, MJ, and Cristian all on your own? Admit it. You’re scared, Little Brother.”

Miguel was prevented from making a response by Max’s excited barking and the sound of two breathless little boys stomping the mixture of mud and ice from their boots just outside the front door.. Theresa’s dark eyes sparkled when the door opened and Jake strutted over to them with a grin on his lips and a twinkle in his eye. For a boy who claimed he couldn’t stand girls, he sure was becoming more and more of a shameless little flirt every day. Just like his dad. “Hi, Jake. MJ,” she greeted, tugging her reluctant nephew forward for a hug. Miguel chuckled beside her when MJ made a show of wiping her kiss off of his cheek.

“What about you, Jake? Can I have a kiss?” Theresa teased, biting her lip when Jake’s cheeks flushed a deep pink, and his gaze dropped to his feet. “I can’t,” Jake muttered. “I’m sorry, Jake,” Theresa prodded gently, noticing Miguel’s smile out of the corner of her eyes and fighting to keep her own smile under wraps, “What did you say?” “I can’t,” Jake repeated, shuffling his feet back and forth on the carpet as he crammed his hands into his jeans pockets. “I already got a girl,” he mumbled while MJ looked on in shock. “Is she pretty?” Theresa questioned, tucking her legs beneath her body and making herself more comfortable against Miguel’s side. “Yeah,” Jake admitted reluctantly, “she’s real pretty.” He looked so cute and uncomfortable at that moment, Theresa didn’t have the heart to torture him any longer so she changed the subject. “I have a problem, Jake. See that list on the coffee table?”

MJ’s brown eyes widened when he saw all the names on the list, and Jake snatched the notepad out of MJ’s hands with a scowl. Theresa ducked her head in embarrassment when Jake’s mouth fell open in shocked amazement for a second. “Miguel…stop it,” she grumbled, elbowing her brother in the ribs when he started to laugh heartily beside her. “I have a lot of friends, and you know what our family is like. You remember what happened when you and Kay didn’t invite…well, I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings,” Theresa broke off awkwardly, “Miguel…” “You can say her name, Aunt Theresa,” MJ told her matter-of-factly, “me and Dad can handle it, right Dad?” “It’s okay,” Miguel reassured her, his smile transforming into a genuine grin with one look at Jake. He could see the wheels turning in that brain of his already.

“You want my advice?” Jake questioned, handing the notepad back over to MJ. “It’s good advice. REALLY good advice. But…there’s a minimum fee of five dollars. A guy’s gotta score some cash for his mom’s birthday present somehow, and the economy and two annoying kid sisters haven’t been good to his weekly allowance…” “Miguel, give me five dollars,” Theresa requested, dark eyes sparkling, “I’ll pay you back.” She handed over the money despite the sneaking suspicion that she was being conned by one of the masters. Jake folded the bill neatly in half and stuffed it in his back pocket for safekeeping with a grin. “You have to listen to me ‘cause these are the words of a very, very wise man. That many people,” he motioned to the list in MJ’s hands, “won’t even fit in my school auditorium. I haven’t even met that many people, and I’m ten years old—practically an adult,” Jake proclaimed, puffing his chest out proudly. “Jake,” Theresa stifled a giggle, “the wise man’s words?” “You have to invite only the people that’ll send the best presents. It doesn’t take a wise man to know that. Geez,” Jake rolled his brown eyes at them, “And grown-ups say kids are slow.” “A very, very wise man, huh?” Theresa giggled as Jake and MJ left them to greet Cristian at the door and drag him to his room to gather his things together. The corners of Miguel’s mouth turned up, and together they chorused “Hank.”

“Miguel said Tink flew out of Harmony like a bat out of hell after her mysterious phone call,” Hank revealed conversationally as he placed Joshua in his booster seat and scooted him closer to the table’s edge. “What do you think that bastard’s up to?” he hissed low in disgust, but apparently not low enough “Who’s a bastard, Daddy?” Emily asked sweetly as she climbed into the seat beside her cousin, her favorite doll tucked close to her heart. Gwen’s brown eyes widened in horror as several gasps of surprise from the patrons at the tables around them reached her ears. Emmy’s voice carried just a little too well it seemed, and everyone in the Lobster Shack had undoubtedly heard her innocent question.

“Bennett,” Gwen frowned, pinching the tender inside of her husband’s arm as she took her seat and lifted her menu to hide the embarrassed flush of her cheeks. “OW! Uh…well, Emmy…I don’t ever want to hear you say that word again. It’s one of those ugly words your mom doesn’t like, and Daddy’s in big trouble right now…” he trailed off to the sound of Sara’s naughty laughter as he took the vacant seat beside his wife. “What are YOU laughing at? I thought you were still mad at us.” “I AM,” Sara scowled, kicking her feet back and forth angrily, “Serves you right you got in trouble ‘cause you wouldn’t let me spend the night with MJ.” “I’m sure we’ll do have the Great Kid Swap again, Sar…and if we don’t,” Hank added when his wife AND his daughter looked at him skeptically, “we’ll just have MJ stay the night with us.”

“I’m worried about you, Bennett. Are you sure you’re in your right mind?” Gwen smirked later between bites of her dinner, “Miguel’d have to be certifiable to actually volunteer to have a repeat of tonight.” Hank grinned, “You know what, Babe? You got a point there. You’re talking to me again. Does that mean I’m out of the doghouse?” “I wouldn’t say that,” Gwen said slowly, fighting the smile that wanted to break free when she looked into her husband’s wickedly twinkling brown eyes and saw their son staring right back at her, “but I’m not really that mad at you for being worried about Abby. She’s our friend, and Nick’s whole disappearance is a little on the strange side, considering how much Ali needs him right now.”

“Exactly,” Hank agreed, “Luis said Katie had to give Ali something to calm her down. Katie’s even pissed, Babe, and it takes a lot to get Katie pissed. Don’t tell me Taylor has a good reason for scaring Ali half to death. When he gets back to Harmony, he’s going to answer to me…” Gwen was blind-sided by the sudden image of a tiny chihuahua raising a leg to pee on a giant St. Bernard and getting its head snapped off, and she could barely restrain herself from laughing out loud. Hank noticed, but he let it slide, choosing instead to continue his rant while Sara thumped French fries at Emily and Joshua across the table when she thought no one was looking. Her family, Gwen thought with a sigh. She was SO proud.

“Hey, Gray Eyes. I know you told me not to come, but I’m in a bad place right now, and I just realized…I know you don’t want me here, but…Listen, I have a mind of my own, and…DAMMIT!” Abby swore, hitting the steering wheel with the heel of her hand as a jallopie on par with her piece of crap rental car pulled out in front of her, and she barely escaped a rear-end collision. “I just hopped on a plane to Boston to tell you I love you…Like he wants to hear THAT, Abby. He doesn’t want the golly scared out of him,” she muttered, maneuvering the car carefully along the winding road. Oh God, she thought as her hazel eyes were drawn to the black waters of the river traveling parallel to the road. The river where Sheridan…Abby sighed as her hands tightened on the steering wheel, her knuckles white with tension. Sheridan didn’t belong in this place. Hadn’t Nick realized that? Hadn’t he somehow known in the back of his mind that Luis was out there waiting for her? What the hell was she thinking? Hopping a plane to Boston and driving to THIS place—the place where Nick loved Sheridan…Jenny—in this yucky weather when she didn’t have a clue where she was going?

You were thinking…no, you were hoping he might need you, the annoying, always right voice inside her head nagged her. Molly’s daughter said…Molly…Molly loved Nick like a son. Molly loved Sheridan too. Molly’s fading away, and she’s the closest thing to a mother he’s really ever known, and he needs you…what the hell did Molly’s daughter know about her, Abby wondered. “Come on!” Abby yelled, slamming her hand down on the horn when the jallopie slowed to a crawl in front of her. Strange how she’d never realized it before. The three of them…they were all orphans. It was the unspoken common thread in their separate and curiously intertwined lives. Sheridan had Luis and Ali and Cristian, not to mention Pilar and Martin and the rest of her family and friends. She was far from the lost, lonely little girl she had been. She had Shane. Infuriating as he could be sometimes—especially when he was right and she was wrong—he had always been her one constant in life. Nick was losing his only semblance of family, and he had no one. It scared Abby to realize how much she wanted to be his someone. This whole damn thing was too much, Abby thought distractedly as she watched the jallopie make a painstaking right turn and accelerated with an exaggerated sigh of relief. Her hazel gaze shifted just in time to see the car coming straight at her, careening out of control on the ice-slicked road, and her hands flew to the steering wheel as a scream tore from her throat.

Part Ten