Sunshine Mixed with a Little Hurricane

The jet lands and the ramp descend letting the crew off. You push open the door and Abby screams and starts running to Bucky. Little arms and legs pump as fast as they can go. As tired as Bucky is, a smile spreads across his lips & he picks up his pace to meet his toddler. "Abigail!" He scoops her up and throws her in the air before catching her and holding her close.

"I miss you SO much! Is you hurts? I can be nurse again." She checks his face and as much of his person as she can from being held so tightly by Bucky.

Nope. I'm perfectly fine. I do not need your nursing duties this time. You trying to drown me again?"

Abby giggles & looks over, noticing Natasha with a man and woman. "Who wit N'asha?"

"That..." Bucky pauses trying to gauge what Abby's reaction might be, "is Natasha's family." Abby's head whips around to face Bucky. "That's her Dad and Sister."

Looking stunned, "N'asha...Oh my goshness!" Abby wiggles to be let down & hurries over to Natasha."N'asha!" Abby grabs her hand in two of her little ones. She stares wide-eyed at the strangers. In Russian, "Privet."

A wide smile breaks out on the face of the rather large grizzly bear of a man, "Privet! And who is this little one?"

Bucky walks up with you tucked close to his side, "This is Abigail, my daughter."

Nodding vigorously, "My Papa 'dopts me!'

"The Winter Soldier has little snowflake."

Abby giggles as Natasha picks her up and props her on her hip. "This strange man is MY Papa, Alexei."

"But you little snowflake can call me Dedushka," Alexei says proudly. Yelena and Nat roll their eyes.

"Dedushka?" Abby's brows furrow with concentration to say it correctly.

Yelena explains, "He wants you to call him 'grandfather'." Alexei bursts out on a loud laugh that makes Abby jump and she gives in to a nervous giggle which quickly morphs into her cackle.

"And this is my sister, Yelena."

In awe, "Yous has a sister. Hi Y'ena. I'm Abby. N'asha and me are fwens. You can be my fwen, too. We can have dance party. And it the bestest!"

Smiling, "You two are friends."

"Oh yes," squashing her cheek up against Natasha's, " I wuv her so much!"

Bucky walks over to grab Abby, "Ok. Ok. C'mere, let's get inside.

*******

They get to the common rooms and Abby sees Walker sprawled out on the couch. Her nose wrinkles as she walks over, "Hi, I'm Abigail Rose. Who's you?"

Walker indicates his uniform, "You don't know? I'm Captain America."

If Abby had pearls she'd be clutching them with both hands. She releases a dramatic gasp, "No. You. Not."

"I sure am!"

Abby stomps over, "You are a yiar! My Uncle Steve is Captain America! You is NOT him." She squints her eyes at him, "You trying to be tricksy??"

"I'm the new and improved Captain America. Your Uncle is the old one."

"My Uncle is the bestest! Him's kind & smart in his brains & strong!"

"He's just an old man."

"You stop it, right NOW!!" Everyone turns when Abby yells.

You see Abby's hands clench into fist. Laughing, "Bucky, get her. She's going to fight him."

Giving Walker the Winter Soldier glare, "You is NUFFIN' wike my Uncle Steve! You's a PUNK!"

Again, you are glad she didn't use the word "asshole."

Abby quickly climbs the couch and throws a punch which is easily blocked by a surprised Walker. Emphasizing every word with a punch, " My Uncle is handsome! Him's good...no Papa!" Bucky grabs both her wrists and lifts her off Walker. Like a puppy in air jail. Still screaming at Walker, "Yous suit is ugly! Yous shield is broken! You...you...you got a junk nose!"

But Abby is not done, hanging in the air, she lashes out and kicks Walker's chin. Bucky laughs having been on the receiving end of Abby's kick, "Abigail!"

"Lemme go! Hims a bad man!" Abby starts crying as Bucky transfers her to your arms. You rub little circles on her back trying to calm her.

Yelena looks at Nat, " I like her." Then to Abby, "Little Snowflake? You were very good. I can teach you better."

Abby wipes her eyes with her fists and nods. You shake your head, "No, don't encourage her. Absolutely, not!"

They all leave Walker alone after getting beaten up by a 4 yr old.

                              “I have a question. Is that his name because his favorite movie is ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’?”

                             Adam and Benji laughed. “No, Aintín Caoimhe”, Adam said, “He likes to dig in our backyard and I think he’s looking for something, like an archeologist.”

                             “Then the name is perfect”, she praised.

                             Benji nudged Adam and he nodded to his friend.

                             “We’re going to bring you whatever you want for dessert”, Adam explained, “Uncle Mike says they’re bite size so you can have more than 1 if you want.”

                             “They’re very small”, Benji said, pinching his thumb and forefinger together to illustrate the size, “But they all look so good.”

                              “So, what do we have?” Foggy asked.

                              Adam began to recite, “Uncle Mike made chocolate covered strawberries stuffed with cheesecake,  peanut caramel brownie bites, citrus mini cakes, chocolate mint cookie cups, caramel apple bites, espresso filled mini cakes and churritos stuffed with cardamom cream.”

                              “They all sound so delicious”, Y/N said, “I don’t know what to choose.”

                              “You could have 1 of each because they’re so small”, Benji suggested.

                             “Before I choose, I would like you 2 to settle a disagreement between my sister and I”, Caoimhe smiled.

                              “Sure. What is it, Aintín Caoimhe?” Adam asked.

                             “Which one of us is prettier?”

                             Adam didn’t hesitate, “I’m sorry, Aintín Caoimhe, but Aintín Ryan is prettier.”

                             “Are you sure? I know you’ve known her longer and don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

                             “Aintín Ryan is prettier”, Benji stated confidently, “We know because even a blind man can see she’s the prettiest. Right, Uncle Matt?”

                             Matt chuckled and kissed his love’s hand, “That’s very true.”

                             “Thank you, Laoch. Thank you, my Laochras”, Ryan blushed. She nudged her sister, “What do you think about that?”

                             Caoimhe sighed, “I guess I have to accept their decision.” She grinned mischievously, “But I don’t have to be gracious about it.” 

                             The Dinos made quick work ensuring everyone had the dessert they wanted. They all wanted to sit together, so tables were rearranged so their table would be in the center and they could be with each other.

                            Stefan watched their baby. She was laughing, at ease, and teasing her new friends. He could hear the excitement in her voice as Matilda told her about her cousins who lived on a farm. They were also Dino Pals and Matilda was speaking about her cousin, Lila’s, chicken who was born with deformed feet and now wore shoes made for Barbie dolls. Ria wanted to see a picture and Matilda promised her Daddy had some on his phone and he would show her.

                            He nudged his husband and nodded toward their baby, “She seems very happy, Wizard.”

                           “She does”, Joel agreed, “And the adults seem pretty cool. What do you think?”

                           “I say, as long as we don’t overcommit ourselves, and get to know everyone a little better, it’s worth a shot. I do like that Poppet will have so many friends for the trips I have to take.”

                            “I agree, Brianic”, Joel nodded. “Do you think anyone here loves musicals?”

                            “I’m sure there’s at least 1 other besides Jennifer and Brittany”, Stefan chuckled.

                             Stefan scanned the area - a habit of his and he noticed 2 of the group standing a little away, deep in conversation - and not a ‘happy’ one. He nudged his husband again, “What do you think that’s about?” He pointed to the pair.

                           “Doesn’t look happy”, Joel said.

                           Jennifer turned to see where Stefan was pointing.

                          “Oh no”, she whispered.

                          The afternoon happiness was split by a loud, booming voice.

                          “Just what the fuck do you want from me?” Bucky yelled.

                          He and Y/N were mere inches from each other and though he towered over her, Y/N didn’t back down.

                          “I want you gone!” Y/N shrieked, “I don’t want you anywhere near me ever again!”

                           “You sure as hell didn’t mind me keeping your shop afloat, did you?”

                           “I didn’t have a say in that. Did I?”

                           “So, you would have wanted it to implode while you recovered? Next time I’ll remember that.”

                            “You hope there is a next time.”

                            “God damn it, Y/N!”

                            “You’ve never forgiven me for what happened between me and Steve.”

                            All the blood drained from Matilda's face. She couldn’t breathe - the fear that bubbled in her belly was almost overwhelming. Fergus jumped onto the bench and practically wrapped himself around her. After the first shock, the Dino Pals gathered around her, trying to surround her with their love. The Battle Sisters, Nessa and Chloe, stood in front of their friends, becoming a barrier.

                            Matilda moaned, “No…no…why don’t they stop?”

                            All this anger and yelling frightened Ria and she ran to her Daddies. Adam and Indy followed her. He tapped her shoulder gently and waited until she turned her face to him.

                            “I’m sorry they’re acting like a maggot”, He spoke gently, “I know it’s scary. Would you like me and Indy to sit with you? Would you like me to hold your hand?”

                            Ria had climbed into Joel’s lap, but she nodded, though her eyes reflected the fear she felt, “Yes, Adam. Please.”

                             Joel and Stefan made room for the little boy and his dog.

                             Y/N and Bucky were oblivious to everyone around them, while the Avengers and the MAD Squad were so shocked by this eruption of anger, no one moved right away.                            

                            “It’s not up to me”, Bucky’s voice was filled with scorn, “That’s all in Steve’s court.”

                            “In Steve’s court? Are you that blind? You wanted him to take my daughter from me!”                             “Damn right I did. You always fail to acknowledge she is as much his as she is yours.”

                            “You think he’s the better parent! You don’t think I’m a good mother!”

                             “He is. Who does she run to when she’s upset? If he’s here, he’s the one she goes to. The problem is you’re too worried about appearing to be a good mother, it blinds you to your daughter’s needs!”

                              “How dare you? You have no idea what I’m doing!”

                              Ria held tightly to Adam’s hand and she caught his eye, “I’m sorry I ruined everything.”

                               Steve was finally on their way. He had missed most of this meetup and he resented the last minute conference with General Ross and the Secretary of Defense. He wanted to run, but didn’t want to attract attention, so he jogged, holding himself to a pace that would not attract any attention. But he was frustrated - this was one of his days with his baby, and he had missed a good part of it. He hurried as fast as he could - he didn’t want to miss any more time.

                              “I’m sorry I ruined everything”, Ria whispered to her fathers.

                              Joel held her a little tighter and Adam squeezed her hand, "You didn’t.”

                              That sad statement snapped Ryan out of her shock. She began to stand but Caoimhe was already moving. She stepped between Bucky and Y/N. She shoved them away from each other. Y/N stepped back, but she couldn’t move Bucky. She turned to glare at him and Bucky was so surprised at the look of rage on her face that he stepped back.

                              Bucky and Y/N both tried to restart their argument, but Caoimhe yelled, demanding their attention, “HEY!!!!...HEY!!!! What the fuck is wrong with the two of you? Jesus H. Christ, I don’t believe you’re acting this way. I cannot believe what’s happening. Where do you think you two are? A boxing ring? Jesus, Mary and St, Joseph and the donkey they rode in on, there are children here. Do you understand?? Children!”

                               Y/N opened her mouth to say something, but Caoimhe didn’t give her a chance, “Shut the fuck up! Both of you! You should be ashamed of yourselves. Look at these poor children - look at the fear you’ve put into their eyes! Ria thinks this is her fault, but only you two are to blame!”

                           As Steve entered the park he could hear someone yelling - this someone had an Irish accent - was Ryan dressing someone down? He picked up speed, fearing the worst. The scene he encountered was not something he expected. Y/N and Bucky were facing each other with Caoimhe between them - she was the one yelling.

                         “Are you proud of yourselves”, Caoimhe continued, her anger at these 2 adults not cooling, “You are both adults - I’ve been told you love all these children. But that’s not what I see. I see 2 very selfish people who have to hurt each other with grievances, real or imagined. I don’t give a damn which it is!”

                           Both Bucky and Y/N glanced at the children and they were ashamed, both dropping their heads in embarrassment. 

                           “Don’t try it! Don’t you fucking try to show remorse now, for Christ’s sake!” Caoimhe didn’t back down, “Look at these children!..Look!” she demanded.

                           Y/N and Bucky looked at the Dinos, seeing a mixture of sadness, shock and anger. They both tried to drop their heads again, but Caoimhe wasn’t having it.

                           “See the harm you caused. Don’t be looking away from it. I hope by God Almighty, these looks are burned into your souls!”

                           Steve was finally close enough, “What the fuck is going on?”                           Before he could get an answer, he heard his most favorite voice in the 

world, full of unshed tears, “Daddy?”

                           He turned and quickly spotted her surrounded by her Dino Pals. He rushed to her and she threw herself into his arms.

                           “Daddy”, she moaned into his shoulder, “Why? Why are they always so angry? Why do they want to ruin today?”

                          “I don’t know, little one”, he soothed. She had her face buried in his shoulder so he glared at Y/N and Bucky. Both were surprised at the anger that flashed across his face, before he turned his attention to his daughter. He stood, holding her in his arms, Fergus standing on his hind legs so his little hooman would know he was near.

                          Ryan joined her sister, “Are you two done being maggots now?” When neither answered, she pushed each one gently. “Back to neutral corners…NOW!” she commanded.

                          Bruce tapped Bucky, from behind, on his shoulder, “Come on, James. Please come with me.”

                          He followed Bruce a little away from the group.

                          Ryan took her sister’s hand, “Thank you for that.” She took Y/N’s hand, “Let’s step over here.”

                          They were intercepted by Tori, “It’s OK, Ryan. Stay with your sister. Come on, Y/N.”

                          Y/N sheepishly followed Tori.

                          The two sisters rejoined Matt and Foggy.

                          “Sorry”, Caoimhe sipped water, “I’m afraid I made the scene worse. I shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

                           Foggy chuckled, “I don’t know about anyone else, but that was awesome! And that’s exactly what those 2 needed to hear.”

                          Matt nodded in agreement, “That sounded like you’ve done that before.”

                          Caoimhe chuckled, “That’s the voice I use when 2 soldiers are fighting in camp. Gets their attention every time.”

                          “Remind me never to get on your bad side”, Matt smiled.

                          Caoimhe turned very serious, “Just don’t hurt my sister and you won’t have to be worrying about me.”

                          “Cross my heart”, Matt said as he did exactly as he said.

                           The Dino Pals surrounded Steve and Matilda, wanting to ensure she was OK. Steve crouched down, so they could and Fergus could snuggle with his baby.

                          Tony had been speaking quietly to the adults, while Sam approached Ria, Adam, Indy, Joel and Stefan. He crouched in front of the children.

                          “Hi, Ria”, he smiled, “Hi, Adam.”

                          “Hi, Uncle Sam.”

                           “Hi, Mr. Sam.”

                           “How are you you feeling, Ria?”

                           She shrugged her shoulders.

                           “I know that was a lot of drama and whatever you feel is OK…angry…confused…”

                           Adam squeezed her hand, “It’s OK. You can tell Uncle Sam.”

                           “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin today.”

                           Sam and Joel locked eyes, and Joel kissed the back of her head.

                           “You have nothing to be sorry for, Ria. This is all on Mr. James and Ms. Y/N.”

                           “That’s right, Ria. They’ve been angry at each other for a long time”, Adam explained.

                           “Adam’s right, Ria”, Sam confirmed. He was very aware that both her fathers were listening carefully, “7 years ago, we were friends. But Y/N had to leave and we had to accept that. We met Y/N and Matilda again 3 years ago and it’s been good. But James and Y/N were still angry over something that happened 7 years ago. This is the 1st time they’ve yelled like that and I’m sorry for that.”

                           “It’s OK, Ria”, Adam encouraged, “You can tell Uncle Sam how you really felt.”

                           She looked unsure and Sam waited patiently and finally, she spoke softly, “I was scared.”

                           “I’m so sorry, Ria. And when James and Y/N realize they scared you, they will be sorry too.”

                            “I’m not always scared. When there’s a lot of noise, if it’s happy noise, it’s OK. But when it’s angry noise, it makes me nervous.”

                             Sam leaned a little closer and whispered, “Can I tell you a secret?”

                             She nodded.

                             “It makes me nervous too. And all the adults. You saw that every adult here was surprised and nervous. None of us knew what to do.”

                             “Except Aintín Caoimhe”, Adam added.

                             “That’s right”, Sam said, “But that’s because Aintín Caoimhe is a doctor and sometimes people get mad and yell at doctors.”

                              “That’s not nice. Doctors are trying to help”, Ria shook her head.

                              “You’re right”, Sam nodded.

                              “Thank you, Mr. Sam. I feel a lot better.”

                              “I’m glad.”

                              “Do you want to go to our friends now?” Adam asked.

                              “Yes, please. Matilda is very upset.”

                              The 2 Dinos stood and ran to the rest of the Pals, followed closely by Indy.

                              Sam waved to the table, “Mind if I sit?”

                              Joel and Stefan nodded and Jennifer handed him a beer.

                              “To begin, I am so sorry for the behavior of my family. All I can say is they're just assholes right now.”

                               “Not really”, Brittany tapped the table, “They’re maggots.”

                               “I beg to differ”, Jennifer corrected, “Ryan says they’re acting like the maggot.”

                                “Be that as it may”, Sam said, “I know, after seeing that, that it would be hard to believe they have never gone this far before. Honestly, they are in therapy to work this out and up to this point there has only been nasty looks and snide comments.”

                                 “It’s obvious they don’t like each other very much”, Stefan said.

                                  “I know”, Sam admitted.

                                  “Sam is right though”, Jennifer added, "They have never acted that way before. And we’ve had a lot of get togethers and Holidays with both of them.”

                                  “But we want the both of you and Ria to understand that this will not be allowed to happen again.”

                                  “What do you propose?” Stefan cut right to the point.

                                   “Well, I would discuss it with my family, but as I see it, the simplest solution would be that for every get together or Holiday, in the foreseeable future, only 1 of them come. We’ll rotate for each time we’re together. At least, until they are able to be civil to each other at all times.”

                                  Joel nodded, “That sounds like a solution, for now. Would everyone go along with it?”

                                 Brittany nodded, “I’m sure they would. We’re all tired of being on alert at these things.”

                                Joel turned to his husband, “What do you think?”

                                Stefan scratched his cheek, “While I’m not thrilled that our daughter was scared today, I-”

                                “We’re all human, Stefan, and sometimes we act stupid”, Joel interrupted.

                                 “I know”, Stefan said, patiently, “May I finish?”

                                  He waited until his husband nodded.

                                 “I know how happy Poppet is that she is finally a Dino Pal and I would really hate to take it away from her.”

                                 “Thank you”, Sam smiled.

                                  Tony had been making his way among the parents and finally reached this table. 

                                 “Look, I know that sucked”, he began, “And we can all see how upset the kids are. I’m so sorry that members of our families acted this way. I think it would be good for us to try to finish this on a good note. So, here’s my idea…as long as everyone agrees to it.”

                                  Ria, Adam and Indy had joined the rest of the Dinos surrounding Matilda and Steve. She held tightly to her Father, and had turned a tear stained face to him.

                                 “It’s OK, little one”, he cooed to her, “It’s all over now. And I’m here. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”

                                  “It’s OK, Daddy”, she murmured.

                                  “No it’s not”, his mind accused him, but he slammed that thought away, focusing completely on his baby.

                                  “Daddy, I want to go home, please”, she asked. 

                                  “Are…are you sure, little one? Wouldn’t you rather we stay here with your friends?”

                                   She shook her head, “I want to stay, Daddy, but I’m so embarrassed. Please, can we go home?”

                                May slowly walked to Tori and Y/N.

                               “Y/N, I’m going to ask James to come here for a moment. Please let’s not have a repeat, OK?” she said gently.

                                 Y/N didn’t answer, but nodded her head. Tori squeezed her hand, encouragingly.

                                 May walked to Bruce and Bucky and brought them over.

                                 Neither would look at the other, but Y/N whispered, “Please don’t lecture us. We know we crossed a line.”

                                 “No lectures”, May assured. She spoke gently, using the voice she sometimes used with Peter, “This is difficult to say and will be difficult for both of you to hear. But right now, for the sake of the children, I think both of you should go home.”

                                Bucky sucked in a breath as if she had slapped him, while Y/N sniffled and brushed tears from her eyes.

                               “I know it sounds cruel. I’m not trying to be. But we want to calm the children and I don’t know if you both realize you scared Ria. Please…it will be easier if you go now and you can see Tilda a little later.”

                                Rhodey joined the group as Bruce put his arm around Bucky, “Come on, James. We’ll go to your place and regroup, OK?”

                                “I’ll come to”, Rhodey said, “And I promise…no lectures.”

                                Bucky nodded and mumbled, “Sorry.” He followed Bruce and Rhodey.

                              May waited for Y/N.

                              “Can I say goodbye to Ducky, first?”

                              “Of course”, May nodded.

                               Steve heard Y/N approach him from behind, so he stood and faced her.

                              “Mama’s here, little one”, he cooed.

                              Y/N was very aware that the Dinos seemed to go on alert and she couldn’t read Steve. His face was a mask, but she was sure he was angry. She rubbed Matilda’s back and both parents felt their baby tighten her muscles.

                              “Ducky?” Y/N asked, “Would you look at me?”

                              She shook her head against her Father’s shoulder.

                              “Ducky, please? I’m really sorry.”

                              She waited a few moments, but the little girl steadfastly refused to look up.

                              “OK, Ducky”, Y/N swallowed her tears, “You’re angry with me and you have every right to be. I just wanted to let you know I am really sorry. I’m going to go home now. OK?”

                              Again, Matilda did not look up.

                              Y/N sighed and nodded, tears gathering along her lashes, “I love you, Ducky.”

                              Steve relaxed his face and gently grasped her arm, squeezing to offer some kind of assurance, “We’ll talk about this tomorrow, OK?”

                              “OK, Ducky”, Y/N had to leave before she cried and made her daughter feel worse. “I love you, Ducky”, she repeated as she walked away.

                              “I love you too, Mama”, Matilda said.

                              Ryan and Caoimhe (kwee - va) hugged as Claire came to join them

                              “Matthew will take you to the airport and please let me know when you’ve gotten back safely.”                             “I will”, Caoimhe promised.

                             Claire slipped her arm through Ryan’s, “And where do you think you’re going?”

                             “I’m going to help Tori take care of Y/N. Matthew will take my sister to the airport.”

                              Claire’s eyebrows almost disappeared, “You’re going to let a blind man take your sister to the airport?”

                              Matt laughed, “We’re going to take a cab.”

                              “Nonsense”, Claire waved that suggestion away, “Ryan, stay with your sister and see her off. I’ll go with Y/N and Tori. It’s OK.”

                               “Are you sure?”

                               “We’ve been her friends since Maddie, Tilda and Nessa became best friends. It’s all good.”

                               “If she needs me, please call me.”

                               “We will…promise.”

                               Caoimhe hugged Claire, “Thank you.”

                               “You are very welcome”, Claire hugged her back, “It was a pleasure to meet you and when you come back I promise we will have those 2 whipped into shape.”

                                “I don’t doubt it”, Caoimhe (kwee - va) chuckled.

                                Steve was crouched down again, his baby in his arms and her hand on Fergus' head.

                                “Please, Tilda, don’t go”, Nessa said, “We want to stay together. We can still have fun.”

                                “We promise”, Gabe added.

                               “I think that might be a good idea”, Steve encouraged, “What do you think, little one?”

                                She shrugged her shoulders as Tony joined them, also crouching down to be at eye level with the kids.

                               “You know”, Tony smiled, “I know everyone is very upset about what happened. But I think we can still have a good day. I know a place a few blocks from here that has milkshakes as big as your faces. Why don’t we go there and finish celebrating your newest Dino Pal?...my treat.”

                               “Please, Tilda. It sounds like fun”, Ember said.

                               Tony waggled his eyebrows, “I can show you a picture of a few of their milkshakes…you know…to sweeten the pot.”

                                Yes, please, Uncle Tony”, Adam encouraged.

                                Tony fished his phone out of his pocket and made a show of searching his photos. He barely whispered, knowing Steve would hear him, “I’ve spoken with everyone else and they’ve agreed to go, if you and Baby Cap want to.”

                                Steve gave a slight nod as Tony found the picture he was looking for, displaying it for Matilda and the Dinos.

                                “These are just 3 types that they have. There’s a lot more. What do you think?” (MILKSHAKES)

                                Every child oohed and aahed…even Matilda. She kissed her Father’s cheek, “Daddy, can I have a milkshake as big as my face?”

                               Steve smiled, “Yes, you can.”

                               “Will you help me if I can’t finish it?”

                               Steve swallowed against the massive dose of sugar he knew he was going to have, “Yes, I will”, he promised.

                               “Thank you, Daddy. Thank you, Uncle Tony.”

                                “OK, Dinos”, Tony said, “Aintín Caoimhe, has to leave for the airport soon. Why don’t you all say goodbye?”

                                Steve put his baby on her feet as Sam joined them.

                                “OK, my chickdees, let’s go say goodbye to Aintín Caoimhe.”

                                The Dinos followed Sam as Steve and Tony stood.

                                “Thanks for salvaging the day, Tony”, Steve said.

                                “We can’t let them think about this day and be sad. Thanks for letting her get the milkshake.”

                                 Steve shook his head and chuckled, “I may regret that decision.”

                                 “Don’t worry. I’ll help”, Tony promised.

                                 Steve looked around, “They both left?”

                                 “Yeah. But they’re not alone. Tori and Claire went with Y/N and Bruce and Rhodey went with Bucky.”

                                 Steve nodded. “I have to go say goodbye to Caoimhe (kwee - va). I have something for her.”

                                 “OK. We’re going to move all the leftovers to Mike’s bakery and we can pick them up after the ice cream.”

                                  When it was Matilda’s turn, she hugged Caoimhe.

“Aintín Caoimhe, can I ask a question?”

                                 “You can ask me anything, Matilda.”

                                 “How many times do you and Aintín Ryan talk to each other when you’re away?”

                                 “We normally talk with each other once a month. We use WhatsApp.”

                                 “That’s good, but I know when my Daddy goes away for work I get nervous. We  have Phil and he can let me know Daddy is OK. I think Aintín Ryan gets nervous when you’re away. She really misses you.”

                                 “I miss her too…a lot.”

                                  “Maybe you could text her once a week. Just say “Hi. I’m OK. I love you.’ And she can do the same for you.”

                                  “I think that’s a wonderful idea. Thank you for suggesting that.”

                                  “You’re welcome. When will you come back for a visit?”

                                  “As soon as I can. We have to sleep in the Museum of Natural History. But now, I have a favor to ask you.”

                                  “What is it?”

                                  “I need you and your Mummy and your Da and Matthew to take good care of my sister while I’m gone.”

                                   “We will, Aintín Caoimhe. I promise.”

                                   “Thank you, Matilda." 

                                   Steve waited until all the Dinos were done with their goodbyes and Ronnie and Riley had gathered them again.

                                 “I’m glad we shared dinner last night, Steven, or I wouldn’t know you”, Caoimhe (kwee - va) teased, “Next time, we’ll have more time.”

                                 “I look forward to that", Steve said, “But before you go, I have something for you.” He opened his backpack and handed her a Bento Box. (BENTO).

                                “Steven, this is beautiful. Thank you.”

                                “That’s not the best part”, Ryan said, “Open it.”

                                She did and discovered a wonderful looking meal (BENTOMEAL). “Steven, that was so kind of you. But you didn’t have to buy this for me.”

                               “He didn’t buy it. He made it”, Sam chuckled, “Showing off again, Rogers?”

                              Steve blushed, “I thought it would be better than airline food.”

                              “If Steve made it, you are in for a treat”, Foggy said.

                              “Thank you, Steven. When I come back you must let me take you to dinner.”

                               “Good luck with that”, Matt said.

                               “Not to worry”, Caoimhe (kwee - va) shrugged, “I can be very stubborn.”

                                “Do we have to pick up the vaccines before we go to the airport?” Matt asked.

                                “No. They’ll meet us. Let me finish my goodbyes and we can be on our way.”

                                 Mike and John transported the leftovers to the bakery, while Tony and Foggy hurried ahead to Elysian Sip Shop. Tony asked to speak with the manager, handing the man his black card.

                                “I have a large group of people coming and we’d all like to sit together. Is it possible to arrange the tables?”

                                 The manager agreed, only because it was early and his only customers now sat in the numerous booths. Tables were arranged in the center of the shop to accommodate the group.

                                Once everything was set up to their satisfaction, Tony and Foggy stepped outside. Their group was spotted almost immediately. There was no missing them. The Dino Pals walked in front of everyone and Foggy nudged Tony, pointing to them. The children all held hands - they appeared to be a wall of children walking down the street. However, they were laughing and talking - even Baby Cap seemed a little happier. 

                                 The Dinos were followed closely by Sam, Steve, Ronnie and Riley, with the rest of the family behind them. Foggy opened the door as Tony climbed down the steps to greet them. He clapped his hands.

                                “Hi, guys. We’re all ready for you, but you have to let go of each others’ hands. The door isn’t big enough for you all to fit through together”, he teased.

                               The kids giggled and Tony instructed, “There’s a man waiting for you inside. You’ll know it’s him because he’s holding a very big stack of menus. His name is Cary. He’ll show you where our tables are.”                               “Chickadees”, Sam said from behind them, “Let Riley go first, then a single file of you, then Ronnie.”

                               “OK, Uncle Sam.”

                                When Riley got to the door, Foggy advised, “Let them choose where to sit…OK?”

                                “Got it, Uncle Foggy.”

                                 As they followed Cary the children looked around at everything. The walls, booths, tables and chairs were a warm, dark wood, with initials carved everywhere on tabletops, walls, etc. The counter was a lighter wood with the  “Elysian Sips” mascot - a unicorn eating ice cream under a cherry blossom tree -  hand painted on it, fronted by stools with deep red leather seats. The chair seats matched the stools - deep red leather. Tiffany style lamps hung from the ceilings - red and white with ice cream cones dancing around the sides. Behind the counter, everything was shiny stainless steel and glass, meticulously clean. The walls were decorated with pictures of unicorns - Moonbeam and her friends - enjoying the treats they made at the shop. The servers wore all white with a bright red apron with their mascot - Moonbeam Sprinkles - embroidered on the bib. In the corner was a revolving shelf with plenty of Moonbeam Sprinkles figurines (MOONBEAM).

                                The adults followed the children, discovering they had chosen to sit together at the center tables. Everyone else gathered around.

                                Steve was sitting as close to his baby as possible, separated from her only by Ria and Adam. She seemed calmer…almost happy…and he was grateful the Dino Pals helped each other when it was needed.

                               The kids were comparing the menus trying to decide which milkshake to have.

                               Matilda slipped out of her chair and ran to her Dad, “Daddy?”

                               “Yes, little one?”

                               “Did you eat today?”

                               “I did”, he assured.

                               “What did you eat?”

                               “I had breakfast, little one.”

                               She frowned, “That’s all?”

                               He hugged and kissed her, “Thank you for worrying about me, but I’m OK. Did you pick your milkshake?”

                              “Yesh. I’m going to have a Sweet-N-Salty milkshake.” She pointed to it on the menu. “See, Daddy. It has chocolate peanut butter ice cream with M&Ms, peanut butter cups, pretzel rods, chocolate covered pretzels and sprinkles, whipped cream and a chocolate drizzle.” (SWEETNSALTY).

                                Steve’s eyes widened, but he nodded, “OK, little one. Sounds delicious.”

                                She ran back to her seat.

                                Mike and John made it just in time for orders. Cary started with the children and when he reached Matilda, she pointed to her father and said, “My Daddy will have a double bacon cheeseburger with fry fries. I will have a Sweet-N-Salty milkshake. Daddy, how do you want your burgers cooked?”

                                “Little one”, Steve’s voice revealed his surprise, “Really. I’m OK.”

                                “Daddy, we saved food for you at the park, but you didn’t get to eat it. Are you hungry?”

                                Before he could answer, Tony stood up. “Listen, to reiterate, this is my treat. Please order whatever you’d like - doesn’t have to be ice cream. And Steve, please tell Cary how you would like your burger cooked. You’re holding up the rest of our orders.”

                                Steve put his hands up in surrender, “OK. Thanks, Tony. Um…I’d like the burgers medium rare.”

                                Joel was sitting next to Tony and he nudged him, “Tony, really. This is a lot of people. Please let Stefan and I chip in.”

                               “No thank you”, Tony assured him, “This was my idea. But, no worries, you’ll have plenty of opportunities…that’s if you still want to hang out with our bunch of weirdos.”

                                Stefan and Joel exchanged a glance.

                                “We do”, Stefan said.

                                “Listen, Tony”, Joel started, “I will admit that that explosion kinda put us on alert. But we watched how your group handled it - with care and love, putting the kids first. And we also love how quickly Ria has been accepted. Being a ‘different’...”he used air quotes, “child, sometimes it’s difficult for her to be accepted.”                                   “I’m glad she feels that way”, Tony smiled, “And I promise we will be discussing what to do to avoid that situation again.”

                                  “I think Sam has some ideas”, Stefan said.

                                  “I’m sure he does. Now, what are we having?”

                                  Steve had saved his fries knowing his girl would need help with the milkshake. All the kids did and their parents jumped in. He had hoped the salty fries would cut the sweetness…but he could still taste the sugar that coated his mouth. 

                                   Everyone followed Mike back to his bakery to retrieve their leftovers. Thankfully, none of the Dinos asked for extra sweets. Steve knew Matilda was still angry as she didn’t ask for anything extra for her Mama or her Uncle.

                                  Goodbyes took a while - every child needed to hug every other child, every pet and every adult, and finally, it was done. Tony promised to call Joel and Stefan to set up the trial Dino Pal chat for Tuesday night and ensure Ria would be ready to virtually meet the rest later in the week.

                                Steve and his baby walked home, his heart a little lighter. He had walked into a storm that he should have been there to prevent and his girl had been upset and embarrassed. Deep in the pit of his stomach he could feel the roiling anger, but he would not give vent to it. The day had ended very well, thanks to the Dinos and Tony. Matilda wasn’t as talkative on their walk home, but she held his hand, her other one on her best friend and sometimes she hummed.

                              As he unlocked their front door, he heard her suck in a breath and saw her eyes slide to Bucky’s door. He knew Bucky was probably there and he hoped he wasn’t alone.

                              Once inside, he crouched down to catch his baby’s eyes - so blue like his own…no, actually…she had his Mother’s eyes. 

                              “How about a cup of tea, my girl?”

                              “Yes, please”, she twirled her fingers and he took them and kissed them.

                              “You OK?”

                              “Yes, Daddy”, she glanced back toward the front door, “But can I ask a favor?”          

                               “Anything, my girl.”

                               “Can it just be me and you tonight? Nobody else.”

                               He nodded, “Yes we can. What do you think we should do?”

                               She tapped her chin, “Ummm. we could color…or play a game…can we play checkers?”

                              “We can.”

                              “Daddy, when are we going to plant our vegetables?”

                              “Soon. Should we go online and decide which ones we want?”

                              “Can we plant mini cucumbers and mini peppers.”

                              “Sure.”

                              “We already plant mini tomatoes, so now we can have mini salads”, she covered her mouth, delighted at her mini joke.

                              Steve chuckled, “Good one, my girl. Uncle Mike would be proud. What should we do first?”

                              “Checkers!”

                              “Good idea. You get the board and I’ll make tea.”

                              She ran, chased by her best friend.

                             Matilda giggled wildly, music to Steve’s ears, as her pawn made it to the other side of the board.

                             “King me, Daddy!”

                             “You’ve been practicing”, Steve said, “Who have you been playing with?”                             “Uncle Foggy!”

                             “Well, he’s taught you well”, he picked up one of his discarded pawns and began to place it on top of her’s. 

                             “Wait!” she hovered her hand over the pawn, “Queen me. And remember the sticker, please.”

                             He chuckled, “OK…Queen you, it is.”

                             He showed her the sticker sheet (CROWNS), “Which one would you like?”

                             She chose her sticker, then used her marker to color it orange. He placed it atop her new Queen.

                             They battled across the board, she crowing every time she took one of his pawns.

                             He had Queened her 3rd piece and she was studying the board.

                            “Daddy?”

                            “Yes, my girl?”

                            “Do you think Aintín Ryan will be sad?”

                            “I think she will, my girl. I’m sure she’s going to miss Caoimhe (kwee - va) very much.”

                            “Can we visit her tomorrow? I want to make something that could cheer her up.”

                           “What did you have in mind?”

                           “I don’t know. Something I can put snacks in.”

                           Steve scratched his chin, then took out his phone, “I saw this a few days ago and thought it looked like fun. We can go after school tomorrow and after dinner we can take it to Aintín Ryan.”

                            He handed her his phone and her eyes lit up. “This is perfect, Daddy! (CHARCUTERIE ). She can make her own charcuterie.”

                           “I think it’s big enough to share with Uncle Matt, if she wants to. We’ll go tomorrow, after school and you can paint it for her.” He found an opening and jumped 2 of her pawns, reaching her edge of the board. “King me, my girl.”

                           “You’re so sneaky, Daddy.” He laughed. She colored his crown sticker blue.

                           “Well, I have been playing longer than you.”

                            She nodded and he noticed, again, that her eyes strayed to their front door.

                           “Can I ask what you’re thinking about so hard?” he gently asked.

                           “Trying to win this game”, she declared.

                           He smiled, “I can see that. But is there anything else on your mind?”

                          She examined the checker board, then shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know”, she mumbled.

                          “OK”, he reached for her hand as Fergus placed a paw in her lap, “I just hope you know we can talk about anything…anything you’d like.”

                          She wouldn’t look at him and began to fidget with the pieces.

                          “I’m sorry, my girl”, he squeezed the hand he held, “I didn’t mean to make you feel unhappy. How about we get back to our game?”

                          “You didn’t make me unhappy”, she glanced up at him, “That’s not what I’m feeling.”

                          “Would you like to tell me?”

                          “I don’t know. I don’t like to feel this way.”

                           “OK. We don’t have to talk about anything.”

                           “Daddy, I’m sorry. But I’m mad…big mad.”                             “I can understand that.”

                            He could almost hear the internal debate she was having..she hesitated, but sighed, “I’m mad and I’m embarrassed….why can’t….can’t….” Tears began to line her eyes and her father was by her side quickly. He opened his arms and she fell into him. He sat on the floor, legs crossed, holding his whole life in his arms. Fergus climbed into his lap to be closer to his little hooman.

                            He just wanted to take this pain away from her, knowing that was impossible. He rocked her and hummed his Mother’s song…all he wanted was to comfort her. A few moments passed, but the tears didn’t fall.

                           “If you need to cry, my girl…..just let it out.”                           “I don’t want to cry, Daddy. Crying is for when you’re sad and I’m not sad….I’m mad.”

                          “Sometimes tears come when you’re mad”, he explained, “It’s because you are so frustrated.”

                          “But I don’t want to cry!”

                          He nodded as she snuggled in his arms, “Then you don’t have to cry.”

                         He held her as she mastered her feelings. “Daddy…?”

                         “Yes, my girl?”

                         “Will Mama and Uncle Bucky ever stop fighting?”

                         “I hope so.”

                          Once she began to talk, she couldn’t seem to stop.

                         “They said some very mean things to each other and they were yelling and they scared Ria and made her think it was her fault then Aintín Caoimhe had to yell at them and stop them then you came and they both got quiet will it always be this way, Daddy?”

                           “I don’t believe it will, but I think that sometimes it’s going to be hard on everyone.”

                           She sat back to catch his eyes, “But, Daddy, I don’t want that. It’s not fair that everyone has to be worried about whether they will fight.”

                           “I’m sure”, Steve could feel his temper flaring. What the hell was wrong with these too? He forced himself to unlock his jaw and gather his daughter closer to himself. “First, I think I should call Ria and apologize to her.”

                            “No, Daddy”, she shook her head, “You don’t have to apologize.”

                            “I think I should. Uncle Bucky is my best friend and your Mama…well, we’re your parents. I don’t want Ria to feel like she’s not wanted, because I know that’s not true. Then I should apologize to Joel and Stefan.”

                            “Daddy, Adam spoke with Ria and let her know it wasn’t her fault and we all wanted her as a Dino Pal.”

                             “OK. She seemed happy at the milkshake shop.”

                             “She was, Daddy.”

                             He would still call Ria, Joel and Stefan later to apologize. But right now, his baby and all she was feeling was more important.

                             She wiped the tears from her eyes, “Daddy, what are we going to do?”

                             “I think we keep talking with our therapists. In fact, would you like me to see if you can speak with Bec tomorrow?”

                             “I don’t know”, she moaned, “Sometimes I don’t know if it helps me.”

                             “Oh, my girl”, he kissed her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear, “I know it feels that way sometimes, but working with a therapist is hard. We have so many feelings tangled up inside us, it takes time to figure it all out.”

                             “Like being mad and embarrassed and sad, but I still love Mama and Uncle Bucky.”

                             “Exactly.”

                             “OK. I think I want to see Bec.”

                             He hugged her tight, “I’ll call her in the morning.”

                             She nodded, “But what are we going to do, Daddy. I don’t want that to happen again.”

                             He sighed, burying the need to go and rage at Bucky and Y/N, “I                             

think the family and the MAD Squad are going to have to talk so we can figure out how we make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

                             “Daddy, I’m still mad. If I said such mean things to any of the Dinos, Mama would be angry and I would be grounded.”

                             “We’ll figure this out, my girl. We’ll figure out some way to ensure this doesn’t happen again. I promise.”

                              “Daddy, maybe you shouldn’t promise.”

                              He kissed her hair, “My girl, You know I never make a promise I don’t believe I can keep.”

                             “OK, Daddy. I trust you.”

                             “Thank you, my girl.”

                             She kissed her best friend’s nose, “Thank you, my Fergie, for helping me. You are the bestus boy. Can I give him a T-R-E-A-T?”

                             Fergus' tail began to wag wildly as he jumped up, dancing around his hoomans.

                             Steve grimaced, “I think our bestus boy has learned how to spell.”

                            “Oh no! That’s not good.”                             “We’re going to have to come up with a different name for that. But I think he’s getting a little impatient.”

                            Fergus had begun to nudge both of them with his nose.

                            Matilda stood and kissed her best friend between his ears, “OK, my Fergie. Come on. Then I have to come back and beat Daddy at checkers!”

                           As she ran off he thought she seemed a little bit lighter, but the anger in his heart wanted out. He doused those flames with thoughts of his Mother and his Daughter. There will be a time and place to release his anger, but not today. He stood to his full height, stretched and drew a deep breath.

                           “So, my girl, you think you can beat me? We’ll see about that.”

                           Matilda was in her room with her best friend, as Steve prepared dinner. She wanted pizza bagels and Steve only had mini bagels. She was thrilled, declaring their mini vegetables would go great on the mini pizzas - when they had some. 

                           He had just put the pizzas in the oven when there was a knock on the door. He opened it to find a contrite Bucky on his doorstep, Bruce and Rhodey standing behind him. He could see Bucky felt guilty - he examined his shoes, his hands were in his pocket and his hair hid his face.’

                          “Hey, Buck.”

                          “Hi, Steve. I was waiting for Hobbit to come and see me, but I guess she needed a break. Look, Steve, I’m really sor-”

                         “Don’t…please”, Steve was working on keeping his voice neutral, “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

                         “You’re right. Can I see Hobbit?” He was surprised when Steve didn’t invite him in right away, but, deep down, he could understand it.

                         “She’s in her room. One minute.” He turned and called his baby, “My girl, Uncle Bucky is here to see you.”

                          She spoke softly, but both Super Soldiers heard her - “No.”

                          Bucky felt as if she had slapped him. He looked up, trying to see past Steve.                         “My girl”, Steve called tenderly, “Are you sure?”

                         She came to her doorway and raised her voice, “No, Daddy. I’m still mad and I don’t want to talk to you right now, Uncle Bucky.”

                         Steve knew Bucky was upset. He took his arm and squeezed, “Give her a little time, Buck. Please go to the Tower tonight and we will talk about it in the morning.”

                         “OK”, Bucky sighed, "If that's what she wants.” He took a breath, “I really fucked up, didn’t I.”

                          He wouldn’t make his brother feel any worse than he already did, “Mistakes were made. But, if we all work at it, we can get past it. It’s just going to take a little more time, Buck.”

                          “Will she forgive me?”

                          “She will”, Steve said with certainty, “She just needs to process her emotions right now.”

                          “OK”, Bucky nodded, “I’ll speak with you in the morning.” He tried to see the little girl behind her father, but she remained in her bedroom doorway.

                           Rhodey tapped Bucky’s shoulder, “Let’s go, Buck.”

                          “Yeah”, Bucky nodded. “Goodnight, Hobbit. I love you.” He turned to leave when Matilda ran to the end of the hallway. She stamped her foot.

                           “Uncle Bucky”, her voice demanded, “You’re wrong. My Mama is a very good Mama and I love her very much.”

                           Bucky sighed, “I’ll remember that, Hobbit.” He turned to follow Bruce and Rhodey and just before Steve closed the door she yelled, “I’m mad, but I love you, Uncle Bucky.” As the door closed, Steve heard Bruce, “You see, Buck. She just needs to work everything through in her mind.”

                             Steve turned to his baby, “Are you OK, my girl?”

                             “Did I make you mad, Daddy?”

                             “Not at all. You were polite, but you explained what you wanted and how you felt.”

                             “Thank you, Daddy.” She returned to her room with her best friend and Steve returned to the kitchen to finish dinner.

                              After dinner they took Fergus for a walk. The fresh air seemed to revive her spirit, but he was worried about what was underneath. Once they returned home, she wanted to plan their garden. He pulled up an app for planting and they walked around their raised garden beds.

                              “First, it says we should add more compost and topsoil to ensure the plants can grow. Now what should we plant this year?”

                              They examined the seed catalog and decided on replanting cherry tomatoes and mini cucumbers. Steve let her choose and her picks were mini varieties of pepper - red and yellow, eggplant, squash, radishes and sugar snap peas. Together they decided to try pole beans which needed support to grow, blackberries and mini watermelons. 

                              In their herb garden, they chose basil, chives, marjoram, oregano, rosemary, sage and thyme.

                              They also decided to expand their sunflower bed by adding shasta daisies, zinnias and marigolds.

                             They decided to add another small raised bed for hibiscus - this plant would be safe for Fergus and they discovered that this flower was especially attractive to bees, butterflies and hummingbirds.

                             Once the planning was done, they relaxed in their hammock. This had become Steve’s favorite place in their backyard - especially when his baby was with him.

                             “Daddy?”

                            “Yes?”

                             “Can we get some hummingbird feeders and butterfly feeders to hang in our gardens? We want them to come here lots.”

                             “I agree.”

                             “I have another favor to ask, Daddy.”

                             “What is it?”

                             “Can we have the Dino Pals all sleep over here? We can sleep out here and look at the stars?”                             “I think that’s a good idea.”

                             “Yeah. We can work on a Daisy badge and maybe Cub Scouts have a badge for Astronomy too.”

                             “Maybe. We’ll have to get their parents’ permission, then lots of sleeping bags and we’ll have to wait just a little bit until it’s a little warmer. OK?”

                             They stayed in the hammock, just resting in each other’s company. Steve was concerned. Matilda had not asked to speak with or see her Mama. Should he suggest it? He wasn’t sure. She said she was still mad and had refused to speak with Bucky. But, this was her Mama. When had this become so difficult to know what was right for his baby?

                               He hugged her, “Well, my girl. We have to get ready for tomorrow. I know your homework is done. Is your backpack ready for tomorrow?”

                              “Yesh. I made sure and it’s hanging by the front door on the hook.”                               “Good. Now let’s get ready for bed.”

                              “OK, Daddy.”

                              He helped her out of the hammock and she started for the door back into their home, accompanied by her Fergie. Steve stood and took his phone out. Should I call Y/N or not?...Thankfully, the decision was taken out of his hand as the phone rang.

                             “Hi, Y/N”.

                             “Hi, Steve. Is Matilda there? May I speak with her.”

                             Her voice was raspy as if she had been crying…no, not if…Steve knew she had been crying. He kept his voice as neutral as possible.

                            “I’ll ask her, Y/N. I’ll put you on speaker.” He followed his baby into their home. She was walking down the hall to her room, but he stopped her.

                            “Little one?”

                            She turned to face him as he held out his phone, “Mama is on the phone and would like to speak with you.”                             “No!” she stamped her foot, “No!”

                            “Ducky”, Y/N’s voice was full of hope, “Please Ducky. Can we talk about this?”

                            “No, Mama! I’m mad and I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

                            “Ummmm….OK….”

                            Steve heard her sniffle and try to control herself. He took her off speaker.

                            “I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t want to force her.”

                            “No…that wouldn’t be right…..

                            “She’s still very upset. She refused to speak with Bucky too.”

                            “OK….I’m…..Steve, I’m sorry.”

                            He clamped down the angry retort that was on the tip of his tongue. “Please, Y/N”, he said softly, “Please don’t. I really don’t want to hear that right now.”

                           “OK. May I tell her one more thing, please?”

                           “Of course.” Matilda had gone into her room and he called her out.

                            “Yes, Daddy?”                             “Mama has something she wants to say to you.”

                            She didn’t answer, but stayed still. Steve put her back on speaker.

                            “Ducky, I just wanted to say that I’m very sorry I lost my temper today. But, more importantly, I love you.”

                            “I love you too, Mama. But, Uncle Bucky is a good uncle and I love him so much.”

                            “OK, Ducky. I understand.”

                            The little girl returned to her room, Fergus attached to her side.

                            Once she was showered and changed, Steve came in to read her a good night story - “A Wolf Called Fire” by Roseanne Parry.

                            She was tucked in her bed along with her best friend. He began to read the book, but found she was playing with her fingers and really not paying attention. He closed the book and gently captured her hands, “What are you feeling, my girl?”

                            This time, she didn’t hesitate, “Daddy, I’m still mad, but I think I made Mama and Uncle Bucky sad.”

                            “No, my girl. If they’re feeling sad, that’s the consequences of their actions. Do you understand what that means?”

                             “Yes. We talked about consequences in school. Like you can’t be mad if you don’t study and then you get a bad mark.”                             “Exactly. Mama and Uncle Bucky fighting has now caused them to feel sad and that is not your fault.”

                             “But I said mean things to them.”

                            “What did you say, my girl?”

                            “I said I was mad at them. That was mean.”

                            “No..you told them how you felt and that’s OK. You weren’t rude..you just expressed your feelings. It’s OK to be mad.”

                           “I guess.”

                            “And then you told both of them that you didn’t want to talk about it right now. You told them that Mama is the best Mama and Uncle Bucky is a good uncle. And you told them that you love them - even if you’re mad, you still love them.”

                          “You sure?”

                          “I am.”

                          “Can I talk to them tomorrow?”

                          “If you’d like.”

                          She thought, then nodded. “Maybe I won’t be so mad tomorrow.”

                          “Sounds like a plan to me, my girl.”

                          “Daddy?”                          

                          “Yes?”

                          “You are the best Daddy.”

                          “Thank you, my girl. And you are the best daughter. Don’t tell the Dino Pals.”

                          She giggled, “I won’t. Promise.”

                          “Thank you.”

                          “Will you finish the story for me?”

                          “I would love to.”

                          Steve returned from his late night walk with Fergus. His baby was asleep in her bed and normally, Bucky would have been watching her. Tonight, however, Tasha greeted him as they came in the door.

                          As soon as he was off the leash, Fergus gave a quick greeting to her, then trotted down the hall to settle with his best friend.

                          “There’s a coffee waiting for you, Steve.” 

                          “Thanks, Tasha.

                          She was on the sofa, legs curled under her, sipping tea and he joined her.

                         “Not a sound while you were gone.”

                         “Good”, he nodded as he took a sip, “How’s Bucky?”

                        “Regretting what he did…sad that she wouldn’t speak with him…a little relieved that she told him she still loves him…and a little worried that you won’t let him apologize.”

                         “She did the same when her Mama called.”

                         “Really?” Tasha sighed, “But, more importantly, how is my wing girl?”

                         “She was angry…she was embarrassed. I was surprised she didn’t want to speak with either of them. But I wouldn’t force her”, he paused….”Just before bed she was worried she had hurt their feelings.”

                          “Oh, no.”

                          “Yeah. We spoke about it. I hope I helped her understand that she was allowed to have her feelings. She stated how she felt and set a boundary - she didn’t want to speak with either of them today…and she wasn’t cruel…she just needed time and she took it.”

                            “I’m proud of her”, Tasha smiled, “She’s growing up.”

                            “I know….me too. I just wish this would get settled. She’s agreed to speak with Bec tomorrow.”

                            “Now…how are you?”

                            He didn’t hesitate, “Angry. I’ve been fighting my desire to yell.. Demand to have them explain themselves.” He closed his eyes and sipped his coffee, “However, that is not going to help this situation.”

                            Tasha smirked over her tea, “I could do it for you. I would love to do it.”

                            Steve smiled, “I’m sure you would and I appreciate the offer, but let’s hold off on that right now.”

                            “OK”, she nodded and finished her tea, “I’m gonna go. But let me know if you need my services.”

                            He walked her to the door and hugged her tightly, “Thanks for coming tonight, Tasha.”

                            “Anytime. Although next time I would appreciate a little time with my wing girl.”

                            “I’ll remember that. Please let me know when you’re back at the Tower.”

                            Tasha chuckled, “So chivalrous.” She kissed his cheek, “Don’t worry. I will.”

                             Ryan, Caoimhe and Matt sat in the Greenwich Lounge, Terminal 8, in JFK, waiting for the vaccines to be delivered.

                            Matt sat opposite the sisters who refused to be separated until absolutely necessary.

                            “Will those vaccines make it in time for your flight?” Ryan nudged her sister.

                             Caoimhe checked her watch, “They have time. They’ll deliver them pretty close to take off so the vaccines won’t degrade.”                             “Makes sense”, Matt nodded.

                            “So, Matthew”, Caoimhe smiled, “You’ve heard a lot about me and teanglann (tal-di-ray, brat in Irish). May I ask you a few questions.”                             “Ask whatever you like.”

                            “Were you born blind?”                             He shook his head, “No, I was blinded when I was 8. A runaway truck swerved and crashed, spilling chemicals that sprayed into my eyes.”

                            “Foggy says you saved an old man’s life by pushing him out of the way. That’s why you were caught.”

                            Matt just shrugged his shoulders, “Whatever those chemicals were, they blinded me - permanently.”

                            “Do you remember colors?”

                            He smiled gently, “Yes. Especially blue. There’s a fountain in a small park near where I work. My Dad and I used to have ice cream there. I can still remember the blue of those tiles.”

                            “I wish I had time to see it.”

                            “We’ll take you next time”, Ryan offered.                             Caoimhe asked, “What about your Mummy and Da? Have you met them, teanglann (tal-di-ray, brat in Irish)?”

                             “No, I haven’t.”

                             “My Mother left my Dad and I when I was a baby and my father passed when I was 10.”

                             “Oh, Matthew. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

                             “Of course you didn’t”, Matt smiled reassuringly.

                             “May I ask about your Mummy. If it’s too painful you can tell me to feck off.”

                              “No, it’s OK. My Mother suffered a severe case of postpartum depression and had to leave for her mental health.”

                              “I’m sorry that happened. Postpartum depression is just now being taken seriously - an egregious mistake. Have you heard from her, at all?”

                               Matt hated to lie - but his love knew nothing about his other life. “No”, he shook his head, “I haven’t. But I’ve learned to understand why she had to leave. I’ve forgiven her.”

                               “And your Da?”

                               “He was murdered when I was 10”, he stated flatly.

                               Her eyes bulged in surprise and she sucked in a breath, “Oh, 

Matthew!”

                              He reached out and took her hand, “It’s OK. I’ve come to terms with my past.”

                              “May I ask what happened?”

                              He nodded, “After my Mother left, he raised me. He could have given me up, but he didn’t. He was a boxer - Battlin’ Jack Murdoch. He wasn’t the most successful boxer, but he made enough to keep a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. Even after I was blinded, he kept me with him. I loved him very much.”

                             “His Da taught him to box”, Ryan smiled at her love, “He still goes to the gym and keeps up the practice. It’s very amusing to see him in the ring with someone who feels sorry for him and tries to take it easy on him. Even better when it’s a bully.”

                              “Another reason for me to come back”, Caoimhe (kwee - va) smiled, “To see you box.”

                             Matt chuckled, “Of course.”

                             Please continue telling me about your Da.”

                             “Well, there was an up and coming boxer called Dynamite Dave - someone they fast tracked for the Championship belt”, He smiled sadly, “I know…stupid name. Anyway a mob boss called the Fixer needed my Dad to throw the match - even though he was a better boxer. He had agreed to take a dive, for a lot of money. But, I guess, he changed his mind. Maybe he wanted me to be proud of him. I hero worshipped him, believing him to be the best boxer, the best Dad in the world. Maybe he wanted to be the person I believed him to be.”

                             Matt shook off the wave of sadness he always felt when he spoke of his Dad’s last night. Ryan squeezed his hand and he smiled sadly.

                             “He chose to win that fight and bet on himself to win. He got great odds because most people knew the fix was in. After he won, one of the Fixer’s associates shot him in an alleyway. I’m told he died quickly.”

                                He skipped the part of him holding his father in his arms, begging him not to leave him.

                                Caoimhe wiped tears from her eyes, “Oh, Matthew…so young…who raised you?”

                               “I grew up in St. Agnes’ Orphanage. The nuns who run it are strict, but loving. Especially the Mother Superior, Sister Maggie. She believed that we could rise above the tragedies of our lives and she held us to the highest standards.”

                               “She’s wonderful”, Ryan praised, “All the Sisters are. But Sister Maggie is part of the group you met today. She couldn’t come because she was busy.”

                                “You’ll meet her next time”, Matt promised, “She’ll like you. There was a priest, Father Paul, who took a great interest in me, encouraging me when I rallied against my loss and my blindness and the unfairness of life.”

                               “And before you ask, Scallrag (skul-rag, Irish for rascal), Father Paul has also gone onto his reward.”

                              “When did you meet Foggy.”

                              “We met when we both attended Columbia Law School.That bet my Dad had made - Father Paul put the money into an account for me - and with that money and a few scholarships I was able to attend college.”

                               “I remember. You told the story about how he came to be known as Foggy and not Franklin.”

                               Matt laughed, “Only his Mother calls him Franklin. He has a wonderful family who adopted me as a family member when Foggy brought me home for the first time. We graduated together and opened our practice. I can’t imagine where I would be without him in my life. He is the kindest, purest soul I have ever met.” He smiled shyly, “Besides my Stóir.”

                           Caoimhe snorted, “My sister? Kind and pure? She’s certainly playing you for a fool.”

                          “I’m OK with that”, Matt smiled.  

                          Ryan spotted the nurse carrying the well marked Medical Container. She pointed to him, “I think that’s for you.”

                           Caoimhe joined the nurse, signed for the vaccines and took the container. Ryan and Matt stood as her sister returned.

                          “As I said, in time for my flight. But it’s time for me to go now.”

                          They walked her to the TSA line and stayed with her until it was her turn to pass through.

                          Caoimhe hugged Matt first, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Matthew, and thank you for sharing your life story with me.”

                           “You’re welcome”, Matt said, “I hope I didn’t bore you.”

                          “You didn’t”, she smiled, “But I’ll be needing a promise from you.”

                          “Anything.”

                          “You love my sister as she deserves to be loved and treat her only with love.”

                            Matt smiled, “I promise.”

                           Caoimhe turned to her sister and as soon as they embraced, the tears began. Neither wanted to let the other go and Matt waved the people behind them, one by one, giving them time for a proper goodbye.

                           “You’ll be coming back soon? You promised”, Ryan whispered.

                           “I gave you my word didn't I? Besides, we’re taking the Dino Pals to sleep in the Museum.”, Caoimhe stroked her sister’s hair.

                          Ryan reached up and took her hand, “You haven’t done that since I was a wee one. You would do that when I was scared.”

                         “I did. And I wish I had been there to do this the last time you were so scared.”

                        “You didn’t know. I wouldn’t let you know.”

                        “I understand why you did. But promise you won’t do that again.”

                        “I won’t. I promise.”                         “I’ll be here whenever you’re so scared that you need me”, Caoimhe kissed her hair, “I may be on the other side of the world, but we are always connected - heart to heart. And if you need me for anything - good or bad - I’ll come.”

                         “Can I come to you? I want to see your world too.”

                         “I don’t know why - not many comforts of home.”

                         “You’re there.”

                         They had to stop as the tears overtook them. Matt wanted to comfort his love, but didn’t want to intrude on them.

                         There was an announcement that her plane would be boarding soon. They mastered their tears enough so they could speak.

                         “If you want to come, we’ll arrange it.”

                         “I do.”

                         “OK”, Caoimhe hugged her sister a little tighter, “I have to go now.” She cupped Ryan’s face and locked eyes with her, “Tá grá agam duit (Tah grah UH-gum ditch, Irish for I love you).”

                          “Tá grá agam duit (Tah grah UH-gum ditch, Irish for I love you)”, Ryan repeated.

                           Caoimhe kissed her forehead, “Teacht go luath (Teet guh loo-a).”

                           “I will.”

                          “I love you, Ryan.”

                          “I love you, Caoimhe.”

                          They held hands to the last second until finally their fingertips parted. Ryan and Matt stayed until, with a last wave goodbye, Caoimhe disappeared into the crowds rushing to their planes. Ryan sagged against Matt and he held her, kissing her and cooing nonsense.

                          When she stood a little straighter, he asked, “Are you ready to go home?”

                          “Can we stay until her plane is gone?”

                          “Of course we can.”

                          They found a seat by a large window so she could watch the departures. Matt wasn’t sure if she knew which plane her sister was on, but he would stay here for as long as she needed. 

                          As she stared at the planes, he asked, “What did she say to you…before she left.”

                         Her eyes never left the window, “She said ‘Teacht go luath (Teet guh loo-a). It means ‘Come Soon.’”

                        “Do you want to visit her?”

                        “Yes, I do. Do you think it will be a problem?”

                        “Foggy and I will make sure it’s not”, he kissed her again, “Remember, I’m a very good lawyer.”

                        “That you are.”

                        She sunk into silence and watched the planes. Matt heard her heartbeat speed up.

                        “That’s her.”

                        Matt didn’t question it.

                        He felt her sharp intake of breath, then she murmured , “Fly safe, Sister.”

                      He knew when the plane was out of her sight because she lay her head on his shoulder and cried softly.

                      “I just want her back.”

                     Matt held her as she poured out her grief.

Tag List:

Outside his cell, the prison nurses were giving report to the relieving shift. 

“Laissez-lui le seau. Il a déjà raté les toilettes deux fois, et il ne lui reste plus que de la bile.”

Leave him the bucket. He’s already missed the toilet twice, and there’s nothing left in him but bile. 

Lloyd sneered at the door. Or at least, he tried to. The expression required too much energy and his facial muscles gave up halfway through. He didn’t even have the strength left for contempt. Every muscle and nerve in his body was screaming at him. His eyes burned from the sweat that had dripped into them. Since the second day of his incarceration he’d been vomiting. It was long past the point where his stomach had anything to lose but his body kept trying. 

Every ten minutes or so his abdomen cramped violently, folding him in two, sending him to the toilet as he wretched up yellow bile until his throat felt scaled. His ribs ached from the force of the sickness. His jaw hurt from clenching against the waves of agony. His lips were cracked and dry. He couldn’t keep down water and he’d lost the strength to stand sometime during the night. Admitting it galled him, but the nurses were right – he couldn’t get to the toilet and he needed the damn plastic bucket they’d put beside him. 

The cell reeked of bleach, bile, and the sour animal stink of his own body. Lloyd had always believed humiliation required an audience. Now, he realized he’d been wrong. Sometimes all it took was a locked room, a bucket, and cold turkey detox. All his prior insistences that his drug use was just recreational had worn thin in the face of withdrawal symptoms. 

Even he couldn't deny it anymore. In the cell beside him the other prisoner was in a similar state. Lloyd had heard him all night, puking, swearing, and sobbing pathetically. The neighboring cell on the opposite side contained a man arguing with people no one else could see. Lloyd lay between them, sweating and shaking and hating every minute of what he’d been reduced to. 

The metal flap in the middle of the door opened. Lloyd glanced up to see a paper cup offered through the hatch.

“Water,” a man’s voice said. 

Being spoken to in English was even more startling than the kindness of being offered water. Lloyd stared at the paper cup. He was so thirsty his tongue felt glued to his teeth, but he made himself pause and weigh the cost before reaching out to take it. Eagerness was an admission of weakness and gratitude would paint a target on his back. 

After a pause of appropriate length, he took the cup. His hand bumped the edge of the hatch before grasping the cup. Water sloshed over the side and ran down his wrist. He tightened his grip, furious, which did nothing but worsen the tremor.

The guard who’d handed him the cup said nothing. Lloyd took a sip of water as the nurse’s voice sounded, a stream of rapid French directed at the guard. It was too fast for him to understand, but he caught the phrase “medical history.” She crossed to the guard and handed him a packet.

The man glanced at the papers, then back to Lloyd. “Medical has questions.”

Lloyd took a sip of water instead of answering.

From the pocket of his navy shirt, the guard took a pen and braced his hand against the door, using it as a writing surface. 

“Any medication allergies?”

He debated before answering, but decided there was a point where stubbornness turned into stupidity. 

“No.”

“Do you take any medicines prescribed to you by a doctor?”

Lloyd’s lip twitched in amusement. “No.” 

“Recreational drugs.”

“Cocaine, Vicodin, Xanax. Sometimes Valium and Ketamine.” 

The pen scratched as the guard jotted down the list. “How often do you take them?”

Lloyd sighed. “Too often, clearly.”

The guard considered his answer, then wrote that down, or something close to it. “When was the last time you used?”

“Before my arrest.” 

“What day was that?”

Lloyd told him.

“If you cannot make medical decisions, who should we contact?”

“No one.”

The guard stated, “If there is no contact, they will appoint someone to decide for you.”

“And who appoints that representative?”

“Either the warden or someone from the state.” 

Lloyd pondered that for a moment.

“You’re allowed a phone call, which you haven’t used yet.”

“I don’t need to,” Lloyd said.

“Do you not want to notify your consulate of your arrest?”

If he did, they’d probably send someone to assassinate him. “No. I don’t need to contact anyone.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The English speaking guard was called Étienne and he was persistent. Annoyingly persistent. Every few days Étienne found an excuse to appear in Lloyd’s vicinity. He would ask the same question at least once or twice a week:

”Would you like to use your call today?” 

He never took too much time or spoke with him long enough to be accused of favoritism. His voice never betrayed concern or carried any warmth, nor did he act as if he were doing Lloyd a favor. In fact, he seemed to remind Lloyd of the phone call because it was an irritating checklist item processing had missed.

Today Lloyd was in his cell, relaxing on his bunk, reading one of the French chapter books he’d picked up from the library. 

“Good afternoon to you, too.” 

Étienne stood outside the cell, thumbs hooked in his belt, waiting for Lloyd’s answer. He had a grizzled cop face that was impossible to read and brownish auburn-hair. However, he lacked that particular dim-wittedness Lloyd associated with the average level of intelligence found in law enforcement circles. 

“I checked the logs. You have made no phone calls.” 

“It’s almost as if that was on purpose.” 

“If you write the number you want to call, the supervisor can approve it by morning.” 

Lloyd turned a page in his book. Étienne remained in the doorway of his cell.

”You could call your consulate.” 

“I’m aware.” 

“Or an attorney.”

”I am an attorney.” 

Étienne tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Then call a different attorney.” 

Lloyd looked up. The guard didn’t smile. His expression was as unreadable as ever. Lloyd couldn’t fathom what he was getting out of this stupid ritual. They did the same dance over and over again. The steps varied only slightly. 

“I don’t need representation,” Lloyd said.

“You are in prison.”

“No kidding? I thought the bars were just a whimsical choice of decor.” 

Étienne watched Lloyd with that inscrutable expression that gave no hint of what was going on in his mind.

”Why do you keep bringing this up?” Lloyd asked.

Étienne’s eyes narrowed. “You know how to avoid this conversation?”

”How?”

“Use the call.”

- - - - - 

And on it went. Lloyd would’ve rather swallowed glass than admit it, but somehow their little ritual became something he looked forward to. It was an irritation that lessened the tedium of days that blurred together. Against his will, their conversations turned his thoughts to ideas of who he might call if he were to use the phone call. 

He was bitterly aware that anyone who cared to know where he was would’ve seen him on the news by now. His arrest had made international headlines for a full week. Anyone who wanted to reach out would have done so by now. Lloyd held no grudges against anyone for the lack of calls. The offer of representation lingered in his mind, though. 

He considered it sometimes, in moments of weakness. He hated prison. The evidence against him was compelling, but not insurmountable. He knew how this ended if he went into court without clear-headed professional representation. Fortunately, there was a Rolodex of good attorneys in his head. He’d had the foresight to commit several of their phone numbers to memory. One of his former professors at Oxford. A classmate at Harvard who was now a famous defense attorney. The closest person he’d had to a real mentor, Clayton Bishop. 

Lloyd knew the clock was ticking. If he wanted to organize a defense, there was a window in which these calls had to be made. The proffered phone call hung over his head like an assignment that was about to become overdue. 

After seven weeks in general population, Lloyd gave in. He’d decided who to contact, and he was working out what to say. He waited on purpose, amused by the satisfaction he might see on Étienne’s face, curious if the man would have a reaction at all. The guard must be eager for a resolution to their ongoing waltz of reminder and refusal. 

But Étienne didn’t show.

A few days passed. Lloyd thought little of it. The guards rotated shifts occasionally, swapped shifts, took vacations, or the odd day off. But when four days bled into five, concern grew. Finally, on the sixth day, Lloyd spoke to another guard. It was the first time he’d spoken to any of the prison staff in French. 

”Where is Étienne?”

The guard regarded him with a blank expression. “Who?”

”The guard who speaks English.”

”Ah. He isn’t here.”

Lloyd frowned. ”Why? Was he reassigned?”

”No. He had a stroke.”

The guard consulted his clipboard as Lloyd stood frozen, trying to process what he’d just been told.

“He had a stroke? Are you sure? He was what…forty-five?”

“Forty-three,” the guard said as he glanced around Lloyd’s tidy cell and made a tick mark on his clipboard. 

Lloyd shook his head, trying to clear the confusion. “I don’t understand.” 

“His wife called. She said he was taken to hospital on Monday and the doctors were treating him for a stroke. That’s all I know.” 

The guard’s tone wasn’t cold or dismissive, just unaffected. Why it pissed Lloyd off, he didn’t know.

“I need to use the phone.” 

Surprise flashed across the guard’s face. “I’ll put in the request. You should be able to make your call sometime tomorrow.” 

Lloyd sank down onto the edge of his bunk. He tried to sort through his feelings, but found it difficult. Confusing. Disappointment seemed to be the predominant emotion. There was nothing to trace it back to, though, so he didn’t understand why the feeling lingered through the night.

The next morning, after yard time, they took him to an office for his phone call. He made his request to the clerk and accepted the receiver when the number had been dialed. When it connected, Lloyd expected a secretary’s voice. Instead, it was his old professor who answered.

“Mr. Bishop. This is Lloyd Hansen. I’m calling because… I need help.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

His tuxedo had to be taken in. Lloyd refused to acknowledge the implications of that as he studied his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. The tailor had done immaculate work, and the seams of the jacket sat cleanly on his shoulders. Lloyd smoothed a hand over the lapels and straightened his shirt cuffs. The suit looked better than the day he’d bought it. He looked worse.

Landon’s wedding had been lovely. Lloyd didn’t have much to compare it to, as he was rarely invited to occasions where affection was the organizing principle. 

Across the room, Princess laughed. Lloyd didn’t let his eyes search for her. He already knew exactly where she was. He’d known since walking into the ceremony two hours ago. Lifting his eyes to the mirrored glass behind the bar, he granted himself the technicality that reflections didn’t count as staring. 

She wore a green dress that made her skin look warm and healthy under the twinkling garden lights strung across the ceiling. The pearls at her throat caught his attention. He recognized the necklace immediately. He’d given it to her before their breakup, and she had no idea what it was worth. If she sold it, she could put herself through law school or buy a house for cash and still have enough left over to be furious with him. 

He had chosen the necklace because it was beautiful and suited her, yes, but also because she’d never accept that kind of money from him outright. She certainly wouldn’t have kept it after their relationship ended. The necklace was an elegant loophole, portable security under the guise of a romantic gesture. Princess didn’t know what it cost, but she was practical and clever. If she ever needed money, she’d look in her jewelry box and know that, despite all his other flaws, Lloyd wasn’t the type of man to give fake pearls to the woman he loved. 

“Staring is rude, Lloyd.”

The voice came from behind him, laced with dry amusement that left no doubt Bishop had been watching him for some time.

Lloyd didn’t turn. He lifted the whiskey glass that was still mostly full, despite the reception entering its second hour, and took a sip.

“Good to see you too, boss.”

Bishop claimed the empty barstool next to him and ordered a club soda. When the bartender stepped away, his gaze met Lloyd’s in the mirror instead of facing him directly. 

“You look thin. I hear you’re training for a marathon.” 

“GLP-1s are everywhere. Even Kim Kardashian is looking svelte these days.” 

“Ah, how fashionable of you.”

Lloyd tugged at his left cufflink and gave Bishop a sidelong glance. “If you’re offering a medical opinion, I prefer those from people who completed residency.” 

“I didn’t come over to comment on your figure. I came over because you’re doing a terrible job of pretending not to stare at your ex-girlfriend.” 

“You’re wasting your time,” Lloyd said, a chill seeping into his tone.

“I’ve wasted more attention on far less promising students.”

Lloyd had no answer for that. Hearing it pulled on something in his chest that a softer man would have labeled as ‘heartstrings.’

Across the room, Princess laughed again. In the reflection, Lloyd watched her tilt her face up towards Marco as he bent his head to her ear. The man’s arm was looped around her waist, high enough to be friendly but low enough that romantic intentions couldn’t be ruled out. Lloyd analyzed the hand placement automatically and was disgusted with himself for doing so. 

“It surprised me when you called from France,” Bishop said. 

Lloyd’s attention sharpened. There was a trap being set here. He could sense it but couldn’t quite figure out the scheme behind the setup. Curiosity got the better of him. He took the bait instead of brushing off the comment and walking away, which undoubtedly would’ve been safer. 

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“I was in prison. People in that situation tend to retain legal counsel.” 

“You waited almost two months to contact me. I nearly fell out of my chair when I heard your voice on the other end of the line.”

“I’m flattered you remember it in such detail.” 

“I remember the first thing you said,” Bishop turned his club soda slowly on the bar. “You said: ‘I need help.’ Not that you wanted to retain my services, not what you were charged with…that’s the first thing you said to me. It wasn’t a sentence I thought you were capable of.” 

Lloyd remembered it with grotesque clarity. The feel of the warm plastic receiver in his hand, sweat running down the back of his neck, the smell of cigarettes emanating from the clerk. He could feel the strain in his throat from the effort it took to keep his voice smooth and composed instead of hoarse and rough.

“I knew what it cost you emotionally to say that. You’d finally hit the point where the truth mattered more than maintaining an image of invulnerability.” 

“Did you minor in psychology? Or is it just an armchair hobby?”

Bishop was undeterred. “You were brilliant, arrogant, and just detoxed from God knows how many substances, trying to act as if your life hadn’t exploded. And despite your lifelong commitment to recalcitrance, you picked up the phone and said possibly the most honest thing I had ever heard out of your mouth.” 

Lloyd restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “Do you tell this sob story at parties? I imagine it does numbers with your Toastmasters club.” 

“No. I tell it to myself when I’m trying to remember why I still answer your calls.” 

The rim of Lloyd’s glass paused halfway to his lips. His eyes narrowed, but under the heat of anger, something cold and sharply unpleasant bubbled up. Bishop turned on the barstool, facing Lloyd. He examined the tuxedo jacket, his eyes lingering on the spots where the shoulders had been taken in, as if he could see the alterations. 

“You came out of prison better than you went in. I know you’re aware of how unusual that is. I’m not trying to flatter you. Most men come out bitter and meaner. You still had rough edges, but there was a new layer of restraint. Perspective, maybe. Even a dash of humility that was so tiny I’d have missed it if not for that phone call.”

Lloyd cocked his head. “Careful.”

“Of course. There it is.”

“What?”

“The minute an emotion you’d rather not name enters the conversation, you get your back up and reach for the nearest weapon.”

“People have a habit of naming emotions just before they use them as weapons.”

Bishop dragged a hand over his face. For the first time, he looked tired. “That has been your experience, hasn’t it?”

Lloyd swirled the liquid in his glass, watching it swirl off the crystal walls.

“It’s a deep-seated reflex. Your defenses only lower so far. I can see that now. What I doubt you can see, though I can’t imagine you don’t feel it, is how much that costs you.”

He wanted to walk away. Unfortunately, dignity required him to finish this conversation. 

“Drop your guard, Lloyd. For pity’s sake, it’s not helping you. In fact, from where I’m sitting, it’s doing a clear amount of damage. GLP-1s my right foot.”

Lloyd’s jaw tightened. Across the room, Princess laughed again. He didn’t look. He didn’t need to. The sound moved through him, bright and warm and impossible to keep out. 

“You’ve become someone I trust. You earned it year by year. I thought you had stopped cutting yourself loose the moment something mattered. Apparently, it was only a temporary pause.” 

“Is this the part where you tell me I’ve disappointed you?”

“No. This is the part where I tell you that you’ve made a terrible decision and you’re falling back into old habits. You’re looking for isolation, the place you’ve always associated with safety. Understandable, but the exact opposite of what you really need.” 

Rage flashed through him, but Lloyd buried it. “Bravo. So inspiring.” 

“And off the cuff. Zero prep,” Bishop said, flashing his eyebrows.

Despite his irritation, Lloyd smiled.

Bishop picked up his soda. “You aren’t the same man who called me from Fleury-Mérogis. You worked very hard to be better than that. But tonight, you look remarkably like him.”

“And what would you have me do about that?”

“Stop pretending to be noble. You are many things, Lloyd, but noble isn’t one of them, so cast off that fiction. After that? The only direction is up.”

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Half an hour later, Princess slipped out of the reception hall through the French doors leading to the patio. Lloyd watched her go. Unfortunately, Bishop’s little sermon had lodged itself under his skin, so he waited a beat, then followed.

He glimpsed her disappearing down the garden path as he stepped onto the patio. Lloyd paused long enough that his pursuit wouldn’t be obvious to anyone watching from the hall, then followed at a distance. He skirted around the well-lit patches and adjusted his pace to maintain the gap between them. Shadowing her across the garden was almost concerningly easy.

At the eastern edge of the property, she entered a small greenhouse. Lloyd hesitated outside, watching her silhouette move behind the glass. For a man who had, more than once, lied convincingly while a loaded gun was held to his head, he was taking an absurd amount of time to gather his nerves. The greenhouse door opened easily, and warm, damp air wrapped around him. Inside it smelled of soil and peat moss with the faint rot of decomposing leaves. The door closed behind him with an audible click. 

Princess stood in the center aisle with her back to him. She didn’t turn or stiffen when the door closed, didn’t look to see who’d come in. 

“I wondered how long you were going to stand out there.”

“I was deciding whether coming in would make this situation better or worse.”

She turned to face him. “And you landed on…?”

“I’m thinking I landed on the wrong answer.”

“You didn’t look at me the entire ceremony. I figured you’d sit at the bar pretending not to notice me for the rest of the night, then slink home telling yourself you did the right thing.” 

Lloyd’s jaw flexed. “You brought Marco as your date.”

Her chin lifted. “And?”

“I’m trying to decide if that was a statement, a punishment, or a lapse in taste.” 

“He asked me to come. I accepted.” 

Lloyd’s lip curled. “You expect me to believe it was that simple? You knew how this would come across.” 

“He asked, I accepted. Not everything is about you.” 

“How convenient.”

“Marco is fun. He’s easy to be around and our conversations don’t leave me feeling exhausted.” 

“High praise.”

“It is, actually.”

Lloyd sneered, annoyed at the small victory she’d just won. His gaze dropped to her throat. The pearls nearly glowed in the dimly lit greenhouse. 

“You wore my pearls on a date with another man.” 

“They aren’t yours. You gave them to me.”

“Still feels like a low blow.”

“Again: not everything I do is a message to you,” Princess said. 

Her bluntness annoyed him, almost as much as how she stood there wearing his gift, refusing to look guilty for it.

She lifted a shoulder. “Sometimes I just wear things because they’re mine.”

Lloyd dropped the point and moved towards safer ground. “What we had was temporary. We both agreed to that in the beginning. You were getting too attached.”

Her brow arched. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Yeah, I was hoping repetition might yield something slightly less insulting than what I thought I heard.”

“It wasn’t an insult,” Lloyd said. “It’s the truth, and you know it. You were centering your life around me, making room for things no rational person would.”

“Rational…person…do you want to stick with that phrasing?”

He let his silence speak for itself.

“Say what you mean, Lloyd.”

“Our relationship wasn’t even a real relationship. We were friends with benefits. You loved me, and I let you, without ever saying it in return. That wasn’t healthy. It was hurting you. It was going to keep hurting you. We couldn’t go on that way.” 

“You never even asked me!” 

His mouth flattened. 

Princess stepped toward him, eyes flashing. “Don’t try to dress this up like our relationship ended by random chance. You ended it. You decided we were done. There was no conversation where I got to say my piece or tell you what I was willing to live with. You chose this. I had no say in it.” 

“You weren’t going to leave me. Any sensible woman would have looked at the situation and run as far away from me as possible, but you weren’t going to do it, so I did.”

The words spewed out, escaping without his permission. Princess went still, and Lloyd couldn’t tear his eyes from her face. For a moment she stared at him, flat and unemotional. Then her features creased into fury.

He tried to head off whatever was coming by offering another layer of defense.

“There was no version of this where I remained in your life and didn’t eventually contaminate it.” 

For a moment, she stared at him, eyes glittering with wrath. Then she laughed, disbelief echoing off the glass walls. 

“You really believe that absolves you?!”

“I’m not asking for absolution!” 

“No, you’re presenting your feelings as if they’re facts. And you’re so wrapped up in yourself that you actually believe this…this bullshit!” 

Lloyd twisted his neck, flexing his jaw. Princess wasn’t done.

“You’ve really made yourself an authority on what my life should look like. I told you I loved you, and you didn’t bother dignifying that with a response. You left it alone because bringing it up would’ve forced you to take a position. I didn’t push. I knew you weren’t ready. I told myself you’d get used to being loved and eventually, you’d admit what we both knew.” Her eyes flashed. “You used that patience against me. Instead of treating me as an equal, you decided what I was allowed to risk, how much I could survive. You decided you had the right to end the relationship for both of us because you were scared.”

Despite the muggy heat of the enclosure, Lloyd went cold. “That’s not what happened.”

“That’s exactly what happened.”

“I removed myself from a situation that had become untenable.”

“You left me. Say it plainly if you’re going to stand there and make a legal argument out of my heartbreak. You didn’t protect me. You overruled me.”

Lloyd’s expression hardened. “Love doesn’t make me a safe person to be around.”

“I never said it did.”

“Wanting you doesn’t make keeping you defensible.”

“You keep saying that as if you were the only person in the relationship capable of understanding risk.”

“I was the risk.”

“Nice. You call yourself the risk and somehow still end up as the only person qualified to manage it. Careful. You’re almost making it sound like leaving me was something that happened to you. Irrational, really. And here I thought that was my department.” 

He shuttered his expression, but not quickly enough. Princess saw that her barb had drawn blood. Her tone softened.

“That’s the part you’re refusing to see. You keep talking about leaving like you did the hard, disciplined thing. Like you put out a dumpster fire that was about to engulf the building. But in reality, you did it because you knew how.”

He was confused. “What?”

“You had a parachute. You knew how to leave and survive it. I couldn’t do that. I can’t love you less because it would be safer. I can’t turn it off, I don’t get to walk away. That’s the difference between us. You could walk away and still remain yourself. I can’t sever something so essential from my life and be okay. That’s something you’re capable of, not me.” 

Lloyd looked away.

“Was it easy?”

“No.” The word slipped out before he could twist it into something less revealing. 

“Then say you regret it.” 

He stiffened, skin prickling with an uncomfortable awareness.

“Say you were wrong.”

For a second, he was close enough to the truth that he could feel the shape of it in his mouth. Yes. That would be the honest answer. His throat worked as he swallowed down something thick and bitter.

“I regret what it did to you,” he said.

Princess tilted her head, eyes lowering to his chest. There was no disappointment or surprise in her expression. Somehow that was worse. 

“That’s not the same thing.” 

“No, it isn’t,” he agreed.

Her gaze collided with his and the hollowness he found there cut straight to his heart. He could fight fire with fire, but he didn’t know what to do with this. It felt final. Like their relationship, their friendship, had been pronounced beyond resuscitation. 

“If the circumstances were different…” he began.

“They’re not circumstances, Lloyd. They’re choices.” 

“It sounds simple when you put it like that, but I swear, it wasn’t.”

“You keep defending a choice I can’t understand. I’ve tried. I’m done trying.”

Lloyd closed his eyes. “There were things you didn’t know.”

“Then you should have told me.” She sounded tired.

“They were things you didn’t need to carry,” he said.

“Again, that wasn’t your decision.”

“It was mine if I was the burden.”

“No. You don’t get to do that. Don’t hurt me and tell me you’re sparing me from something worse. I loved you, and you shoved me out of your life because of it.”

Lloyd’s chest squeezed. There it was. The opening. The chance to apologize, to restore things to their natural state. He wanted it so badly he could feel the words pressing against his teeth. Princess saw it. That was the problem with them. He could hold back the words, but not the truth. 

She sighed. “That’s what I mean. You keep bringing me almost. Almost honesty. Almost choosing me. If you want me, say it.”

Please come back. Forgive me.

The words burned in his mouth, on the tip of his tongue, but couldn’t get any further. His lips were sealed against them. They were humiliating and ugly with need. He didn’t know how to get past this moment without showing the soft underbelly he’d spent a lifetime guarding. 

He didn’t speak. Not because he didn’t want to, and not because he didn’t know what to say. Because he physically couldn’t. 

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Next - Chapter XXXV

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