Nicky shrugged. Then he grinned. "I guess we'll find out." Jenna laughed. "I guess we will. Come on, sweetie. Let's go."

Saturday, October 8, 6:15 P.M.

Steven came home on time for the first time in days, expecting a noisy house and a smiling welcome. Instead, it was dark and quiet met his ears as he shut his front door.

He flipped on the foyer lights overhead. "Anybody home?"

A beat of silence followed, then he heard Brad's voice from his office. "Just me, Dad. In here."

Steven stopped in the doorway to his office. Brad sat in the dark, watching a home video on the television in the corner. It was their family, on vacation at the beach. Brad and Matt were fishing from the shore. Melissa was lying on a blanket next to Nicky who was napping in the shade of the beach umbrella, wearing a diaper and nothing else. Nicky had been about a year old. He, himself, must have been the one filming because Melissa was giving him an evil glare and telling him not to take her picture. He remembered that day. Vividly. She'd almost refused to leave the hotel room, standing in front of the mirror and cursing her "baby fat." He remembered wondering if she cursed the baby, too, for ruining her figure. She'd started pushing him away then. Claiming headaches or that she simply wasn't in the mood. He wondered, now, as he watched the video, if she'd been cheating then, even though she wouldn't leave him for another two years.

Although it didn't really matter anymore. What mattered was the young man sitting in the chair, his eyes riveted to the scene. "Where is everyone?" Steven asked.

"Helen's with her canasta club. Nicky and Matt went to the park with Dr. Marshall,"' Brad answered, not looking away from the video. "The bluefish were running that day," he said softly.

Steven sat next to Brad. "I remember. Matt got so mad because you caught the biggest fish."

"And I got mad because he caught three more than I did."

Steven huffed a quiet chuckle. "You boys always were so competitive."

"Guess we must have got it from you," Brad said, not unkindly.

Steven searched in the darkness, the flickering light from the video providing the only illumination. Brad had shaved. Washed his hair. Was wearing clean clothes. Something was different. He remembered the look in Mike's eye Thursday evening when he told him to go home to his son, that Brad needed him. Something had happened when his best friend had driven his oldest son home from the search scene Wednesday night.

Steven cleared his throat. "It's hard for a parent to apologize," he said.

Brad turned his head and the two shared a sober glance. "For what?" Brad asked.

"I'm not sure, to be truthful. I don't know what I did to start all of this, Brad, and 1 don't know if I should even apologize, but I did hurt you Wednesday night. I'm sorry for that, son. I was wrong."

He watched Brad's throat work as his son fought to swallow. He knew how Brad felt. He was practically choking on the lump in his own throat. "So was I, Dad. I… didn't understand."

Steven frowned. "Didn't understand what, son?"

Brad shrugged. "Everything, I guess."

Steven had opened his mouth to press further, when the front door flew open. Barking filled the house accompanied by Nicky's shrill scolding. "No, Cindy Lou. Down, Cindy Lou!"

Then came the voice he'd been waiting to hear all day. "Nicky, I think Cindy Lou's had enough obedience training for one day," Jenna said soothingly. "Why don't you let her out in the backyard to run? I think she could use a break."

Steven found Jenna kneeling on the foyer floor, unzipping Nicky's jacket. Nicky was looking at her with nothing short of adoration. His youngest son was a very smart young man.

"Jim, too?" Nicky asked eagerly and Jenna smiled. And Steven felt his heart melt.

"Sure." She stood up when Nicky raced off and called after him, "Wash your hands for supper!"

"What's for supper?" Steven asked and his melting heart quickened at her brilliant smile.

"Fried chicken," she answered, licking her lips.

Steven's body quickened along with his heart and he could only hope his sons didn't notice. He wasn't in the mood to talk about the birds and the bees tonight. Unless it was with Jenna. And unless the talk included a little extracurricular tutoring. "Are you cooking?" Steven asked and had to grin when Jenna's smile went from brilliant to very naughty.

"Depends on who's asking," she said saucily.

"I'm asking," Brad said dryly, appearing at his side, and Steven choked back a laugh at the guilty expression on Jenna's face. Like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

She opened her mouth, then closed it again when Matt breezed through the front door carrying four plastic bags bearing the Colonel's bearded face. "No, the Colonel is," she said, recovering admirably. "It's for the best, really. I'm not much of a cook."

Matt shook his head. "Then I say you're out of here. I will permit no potential stepmothers into this house without the appropriate culinary skill."

Steven watched Jenna's face go bright red and knew his had done the same.

"Then it's a good thing you're not dating her," Brad said and pushed past Steven to grab two of the plastic bags from Matt's arms. "Anything in here but bones?"

Matt straightened, affronted. "I didn't touch anything."

Brad looked at Jenna who appeared still on the verge of apoplexy. "Wouldn't let him, huh?"

Jenna shook her head. "Threatened him with loss of arcade privileges."

Brad looked amused. "I knew you were too smart for him," he murmured. "Come on, Matt."

Steven watched his sons walk away. "I wonder if he was talking about me or Matt."

Jenna looked up at him, her eyes smiling. "Does it matter? Brad's back. What happened?"

Steven shook his head. "No idea." He hesitated, then went with his gut and cradled the back of her head in the palm of his hand, threading his fingers through her silky hair. She seemed to unwind, right before his eyes. "How's Casey?" he asked and was relieved when she smiled.

"She's going to be all right. They took out the breathing tube this morning, so her throat was still too sore to talk. I gave her a pad and pen and I left her cussing a handwritten blue streak at how long it was going to take her to grow her fingernails back. She'll go to a regular room tomorrow."

"Good." He lowered his face a few inches. "Jenna," he murmured.

Her eyes smiled. "Yes?"

He came an inch closer. "Can I kiss you?"

"Are you planning to run home again?"

"Can't," he murmured against her lips. "I live here."

"Then in that case…" Her words drifted off when he kissed her in earnest and when he lifted his head she followed, lifting herself on her toes, prolonging the contact another moment longer.

A delicate "ahem" made them both turn. Matt stood behind them with a wide grin on his face. "I have been asked to inform you that the chicken is nearly gone. If you wish to partake, you'll need- to move your butts. No offense meant, Jenna."

She chuckled. "None taken."

Steven slid his arm around her waist, amazed how easily she'd slid into his life. "I say we eat."

Saturday, October 8, 9:30 P.M.

Steven moved restlessly in the bench seat, bumping Jenna's head as he readjusted the arm he'd stretched out behind her. "I'll give Davies another fifteen minutes, then we can go."

Jenna relaxed, enjoying Steven's strong arm behind her neck as they sat in the booth of a sports bar. They were waiting for Detective Davies to show up with something Steven would only say was 'important.' "I'm fine, Steven. It actually feels good to just sit and relax like normal people."