Small Town Girl

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

In Tess's suite, a single lamp glowed softly in the sitting room at the far end of the sofa. She left it on and walked through to the bedroom where the maids had provided turndown service while she was gone. The bedspread had been removed, the sheets folded down from the center like a paper airplane. On each pillow waited a good-night wish: two chocolate coins wrapped in gold foil.

The sight of the bed, waiting, prepared, raised a fine and welcome tension within her, a sexual impatience that pressed up insistently, bringing his visage to mind-Kenny, in a sleek black tux, come to gaze at her across a crowded room with eyes that matched the suppressed desire in her own. Like water above the rim of a cup, she felt as if the mixture of emotions she held were more than the human vessel could contain. It trembled there, close to overflowing, as she removed the makeup from her flushed cheeks; as she showered and washed her hair; bound it in one towel and dried with another; put on a freesia-scented splash and stared at her dilated, dazzled eyes in the wraparound mirrors.

She touched the freckled hollow between her breasts, her trembling stomach… and assessed herself through his eyes, wanting to please him.

Tonight, she thought.

She put on the thick white robe provided by the hotel, dragged the towel from her hair and finger-combed her damp curls, impatient for his return.

In his room Kenny hung up his tuxedo jacket, removed his bow tie and cummerbund, washed his face, then sat down with a magazine and checked his watch. He'd give her ten minutes before going back up.

He lasted six before realizing he hadn't read a word or turned a page. Tossing the magazine aside he bolted from the chair and pocketed his key card on his way out the door.

The suites at the Regent had doorbells. When he rang hers it was 1:27 A.M.-a bizarre hour to go courting, he thought, but then her lifestyle was bizarre. He wondered how he'd get along blending into it once they were married.

"Kenny?" her voice said softly from inside.

"Yes."

The door opened and there she stood, in bare feet and an oversized white robe, her damp hair rollicking around a scrubbed and shiny face, the smell of flowers coming to the door along with her. Without a touch of the artifice she'd worn onstage she was even more beautiful to him.

She said very simply, "I thought you'd never get here," and he stepped inside, against her, blindly swatting the door closed behind him. Their embrace was a collision with her up on tiptoe and his arms lashed hard around her, lifting her free of the floor. Their first kiss was a desperate thing without finesse-two starving people with mouths open and bodies straining to make up for all the time apart. Then he lowered her till her toes gained purchase again, and like bends of a knot they turned into one another, trying to make two halves into a whole. The kiss changed directions as they tried a new slant on an old pleasure. She made a tor-tured sound, burrowing upward as if close were not close enough.

There were words pressing to be spoken, but their lips scarcely parted. "I thought I'd die before we could do this," she said within the satin folds of the kiss. "All those people…"

"And all I wanted to do was this." He wandered her face, his teeth taking nips of her upper lip, the edge of a nostril, her eyebrow-illogical places that only a man in love would prize. "I wanted to kick them all out!" he ranted. "Every last one of them! I kept thinking they didn't have any right to you! You were mine, not theirs!"

She smiled, loving how he'd felt exactly as she had.

Enough talking. Talking wasted lips that had better things to do, randy, wild things they'd been imagining doing together. He found her mouth again and covered it, tasting, holding nothing back. His hands slid down her back and captured her low, like an inverted heart, hauling her high and hard against him.

The intensity, of course, could not be sustained. Like any glut, it filled them, and soon they needed something less. His embrace slackened and her heels touched the floor. They drew apart and their gazes caught at close range. One of them laughed-it was he, murmuring, "We're awful, aren't we?"

She laughed, too. "Yes, and isn't it wonderful?" His arms were doubled lightly beneath her shoulder blades while they took the time to gaze at each other as they had not when he first came in, to appreciate the face of the other, turned perfect by love. The kiss resumed, gentler than before, now that the first desperation was gone. Their hands began roving. His back was smooth cotton, hers was rough terry. They explored with palms spread flat, reacquainting, thrilling each other with the simplest of touches. Time flowed into the wee minutes of the night while they remained near the door where only dim light found them from the lamp across the room. He reached to untie her belt, but she caught his hand between them and looked into his eyes.

"I have to know first… about you and Faith."

He said, with neither smile nor regret, "I've asked her to take her things out of my house. It's all over between us."

"Really? All over?"

"I'd never lie to you, Tess, not about that." Then he added, "Not about anything."

She knew he wouldn't. He had never been anything less than truthful about himself and Faith, right from the beginning.

She released his hand and a moment later the belt dropped to the floor. He reached inside and found her warm skin. Fragrance lifted from it as his hands caught her waist and his wrists parted the terry robe. He gave a gentle tug and she bumped up against him, resting there lightly while their bodies formed a wishbone and their eyes engaged in playful approval, just this side of full intimacy. She was supple and compliant, catching him behind the neck and leaning back while they swayed a little, all hurry gone.

"You smell good," he murmured, still gripping her waist as if to lift her into a carriage where none waited. Only her bed waited in the other room. And they, in this one, pretended nonchalance.

"I put something on for you. Freesia."

"Freesia. Where?"

"Everywhere."

They took some time to flirt with the suggestion, to let it play upon their libidos while their bodies swayed in a lazy figure eight. She thought he would bend down and kiss her, perhaps between her breasts, but instead he gathered her close once more, and putting his face to her neck, threaded his arms inside the robe, caressing her sleek warm back not only with his hands, but with his starched sleeves as well. He ran them along her sides, a crisp contrast to the smoothness of his palms as they slid down the slope of her spine to her naked buttocks. And from there one hand shifted at last to her breast and held its precious weight like a fruit warmed by the sun. It seemed forever they'd been imagining this first naked touch. Now it was here, better than imagined, spreading warmth and want deep within them. For a long while they paid homage to the moment, holding still everywhere else, absorbed in the pleasure of nothing more than his hand cupping her breast. Then her head fell back, her eyes closed and she put her hands in his hair, holding his head while down the gap in her robe he fit her bare body to his clothed one.

"I missed you so much," she told him.

"I missed you, too," he said, bringing his other hand into play. "So much…"

"After I left Wintergreen it was…" His thumbs moved and she shuddered once, and lurched, then let herself fall forward against both of his hands. "It was…" The word escaped her. All words escaped her. "It was…"

"It was hell," he whispered for her.

"Yes… it was hell."

Her forehead rested against his chin and his breath beat against her uncombed hair. Her hand dropped between them, playing over the worsted wool of his trousers, learning his shape within his clothing.

"Tess…" he breathed, before silence became their ally. Only silence, mingling with his disbelief that he was here with this woman, doing this incredible thing, feeling her hands on him after all the years she had been far, far beyond reach.

"Take me to bed, Kenny," she whispered.

He was struck by a broadside of awe, realizing who she used to be-the Tess from his past. Who she'd become-Mac, the superstar, adored by millions. And who he'd become-the man she wanted as fully as he wanted her.

She sensed a change in him and looked up. "Kenny?" she whispered, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It just…" He appeared momentarily beleaguered. "It just hit me where I am, and who I'm with, and what you just said… and I'm human enough to be a little stunned by it, that's all."

"Don't be too stunned," she murmured softly. "It's just me, Tess."

"Just you, Tess. The girl on the school bus. Then you became Mac, the woman so far beyond my reach that all I could do was cut out pictures of you. And now you're Tess again, and you want to go to bed with me. I don't think you can quite realize how incredible this seems sometimes."

"No more incredible than you are to me. Kenny Kronek, the boy next door. Who'd have believed it?" She smiled and repeated, "Take me to bed, Kenny… please."

He picked her up like a groom carrying a bride from a church and headed for the brighter light of her bedroom, her arms coiled around his neck and her mouth pressed to the warm hollow behind his jaw. His skin smelled like sandalwood. She tasted it, made a small wet patch on his smoothly shaved neck, and the scent became flavor on her tongue.

"You taste good," she said.

Above her head, he grinned. "You're getting ahead of me."

"Hm-mmm," she singsonged, meaning, No I'm not. "And I know whereof I speak, Mr. Kronek."

He was still grinning as he reached their destination and released her legs. She landed on the foot of the bed, kneeling, the robe puddled around her, and lifted her hands to the black onyx studs down his shirtfront. While he began freeing his cuffs he let his knuckles bump her breast-a pebble over a washboard-bringing them both smiles.

She smiled at his shirtfront.

He smiled at the top of her hair, then kissing it, bent at the waist and got rid of his shoes.

"We both knew this would happen tonight, didn't we, Kenny?"

"Yes, we knew." He found a condom in his trouser pocket and tossed it onto the bed behind her. She undid his waist button, he the zipper, and together they got rid of everything but his shorts. They were silk. Green silk with orange cats on them.

"You wear silk shorts?" she said, surprised, delighted, sitting back on her heels to ogle them. "With cats?"

"They're new. I figured that's what a guy should wear to take Tess McPhail to bed."

"Don't say that as if all kinds of guys have figured the same thing, because there haven't been that many."

"We can talk about that later, Tess, okay?" he said, drawing her back up to kiss her.

"There are lots of things we've got to talk about later."

"Mm-hmm."

He was naked and she was just about as he went down on one knee and plunged his face into the gap of her robe to take his turn at tasting. A very slow sweet turn before pushing the robe off her shoulders and tumbling her sideways onto the smooth ecru sheets. They fell in one swift motion at the same moment that they touched each other intimately for the first time-a sweep, a fall, a lunge-it was all of these, and silent except for their harsh breathing.

They explored with a shared sense of wonder, first with their eyes open, then with eyes closed, kissing tenderly, then not so tenderly as some primal force took control.

Once he whispered, "Oh, Tess…" because there were no other words in this foolish man-made language to do justice to what he felt.

And she answered in kind, repeating his name, "Kenny… Kenny…" because she, too, found no other words adequate.

Much later, he whispered, "Like this?"

And she breathed, "Yes…" arching her throat.

And later yet she found the foil packet in the sheets and said, "Put this on now… please," and watched, unashamed, as he did.

As he knelt to her she reached up and touched the hair at his temple, feeling a compulsion to say to this man something she'd said to no other. "Let me say it now, Kenny… I love you."

She loved the look that overtook his face: joy and disbelief after her long refusal to admit it.

"Say it again, Tess."

"I love you," she repeated, with wonder seizing her soul, quite stunned by the force of the words, spoken at last. "Oh God, I do, I love you!" she rejoiced.

He turned his face into her palm and kissed it.

There were tears in her eyes as he entered her and elevated them both to a state of splendor. Then he pressed deep, past the flesh, into the soul, into the heart of her.

There had been, in Tess's life, no moment as magnificent as this, saying the words, meaning them, manifesting her love in this most perfect way.

"I love you, too," came his jagged whisper as he began moving, finishing what they'd started one dark spring night in a backyard on the grass beside some crickets.

It was two-fifteen. They lay in the lamplight, tired but unwilling to admit it, wanting to waste not a minute of this night. Their faces were close on a single pillow, and their bodies scarcely linked. Gravity pulled at the skin beneath his eyes and showed her where a wrinkle would lie in the years ahead. She followed it with one fingertip and repeated what she'd said earlier. "Kenny Kronek, the boy next door-whoever would have thought it?"

"Not me," he said with his eyes closed. "Not in a thousand years. Not with Tess McPhail."

"I'm just flesh and blood like anybody else."

"No. Not like anybody else." His eyes opened. "Not to me. I've loved you so long that I can't remember when I didn't."

She thought of the file of newspaper clippings he kept in his office, and believed him. "Oh, Kenny."

"It's true. You were the one I never forgot."

"I'm sorry I can't say the same thing back to you. But I only found out how wonderful you are this spring, and even then I resisted falling in love with you." Her fingertip trailed down to his lower lip and rubbed it softly. "Wanna know something?"

"Hm?"

"After I left Wintergreen I kept remembering that night of the wedding dance in Momma's backyard, and wishing we'd done more."

"You, too?" he replied lazily. "I'd think to myself, man, how stupid can you be? Why didn't you do it while you had the chance? Tess, I wanted you so much that night."

"I wanted you, too."

"Then all of a sudden you were gone and I'd lost my chance. After you left I'd look across the alley at your mother's windows and get so damned lonely knowing you weren't there anymore."

"And whenever my phone would ring my heart would leap, thinking it was you. And when it wasn't, I'd feel so unbelievably let down. It was this new and… and almost consuming feeling, missing somebody that much."

"Why didn't you say so?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "Scared, I guess. Because of the intensity of my feelings. Doubting they could be real."

"It was different for me. I knew it so soon after you came back home."

"Even though you were living with Faith?"

"Faith and I had become a huge convenience. She ironed my shirts. I mowed her lawn. But you can't build a lifelong relationship on convenience. At least, I can't. I knew I had to make a break with her, and when you came back to town I began to realize that with Faith, this part of it… the sex was… well… it was…"

"Go ahead. You can say it. You can say anything to me."

"All right. Unsatisfying. It had become… well, mechanical, sort of."

"Mechanical," she mused aloud.

He considered what might be construed as a breach of confidence and decided he could say this much: "She didn't like to get messed up."

His frankness caught Tess by surprise. She felt a grin threatening but pulled it back into line. Though she tried not to laugh, a little snort fizzed up, and she covered her mouth too late to hold it in. Above her hand her eyes danced with mischief, and finally she said, "The woman didn't know what she was missing."

At first she thought she might have offended him but then he, too, caught the bug and laughed-a big, hearty one that threatened something else entirely. "Oh, Lord, don't laugh!" she warned, clutching him tight around the middle.

But it was too late. The link was lost and they were forced to make repairs.

It took a few minutes then before they were back in bed, snuggled up against three stacked pillows, covered by the smooth sheets with Tess tucked comfortably under Kenny's arm and one knee pulled up over his thighs. Behind her shoulder he unwrapped the last piece of chocolate, gave her the first bite, then popped the rest into his mouth.

"All right," he said, tossing the foil ball onto the night-stand, "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"I'm asking about your former sex life. How many before me?"

"Do I have to tell?"

"No."

She peered up at him, surprised by his answer.

"Four."

"Four!"

"All before I was twenty-eight. That's the year I hit it really big and realized I had to be more cautious. Fame works against you in that way. You never know what men are after. It gets… very lonely."

"Were any of them serious?"

"No."

"What about this musician you were seeing lately?"

"No. The truth is, he tried, but that was after I'd been back home and seen how good you were to Momma and sung in your choir and rolled around with you in the backyard and you made other men seem icky."

"Icky?" He grinned at her choice of words. "I did that?" He pulled his chin back to look down, but could see only the top of her head.

"Absolutely."

"So are you saying you've never been in love before?"

"I didn't have time to fall in love. I had places to go, things to accomplish. And then I accomplished them and…" She absently rubbed his chest before continuing thoughtfully. "It's a funny thing… I used to think my life was so full without this, without you, and I never knew how I was fooling myself. I thought I had it all… till now."

The chocolate was gone from their tongues. They lay for a while in the smug afterglow of first love, feeling lucky, and sated, and very reluctant to part, come Sunday. They had tomorrow to spend together, then her concert tomorrow night, but after that he'd have to go back to Wintergreen, and she'd have to go back to Nashville. And what then? A long-distance affair?

Kenny brought it up first, what they'd both been thinking of.

"How do you think it would work if we got married?"

She reacted without the least surprise, remaining where she was, nestled against him as if this were not the most important conversation each of them had ever had.

"I don't know, but I've been thinking about it, too."

"That's all I've been thinking about, but there's a lot to work out."

"Where would we live?" she asked.

"In Nashville."

"And in Wintergreen?"

"What do you mean? We can't live in both places."

"Why not? We can afford it."

"I never thought of keeping both places."

"We could if Casey wanted us to. For a while anyway, until she got used to the idea of her childhood home being sold out from under her. We have to be careful about that."

"Yes, I suppose we do."

"We could use your house whenever we went back home to visit Momma. But what about your business?" she inquired.

"I'd sell it and take care of yours for you."

"You would?" This surprised her. She drew back and stared at him.

"It struck me one day when we were talking on the phone and you said how many things you have to keep tabs on, and how risky it is for you to delegate the money matters. I thought-hey, I could do that for her! I'm a natural, Tess. I'm a certified public accountant. Who better to see after your financial affairs?"

She sat up and looked at him in rank amazement. "You mean you'd do that? You'd actually give up your business to marry me?"

"Why, of course I would."

"And you'd move to Nashville? Without batting an eye?"

"Of course I would."

"Wouldn't you worry about being called a kept man?"

He burst out laughing and hauled her down where she'd been. "No offense, Tess, but that is one of the stupidest questions I've ever heard. I know how much work there'd be, and believe me I'd be anything but kept. I'd probably end up putting in more hours than I do now, judging from what I know about your success."

"You have spent some time mulling this over, haven't you?"

"Think about it-everything I do all day long is something you pay somebody else to do. Why shouldn't I be doing it for you and making your life easier?"

She did think about it. It sounded too good to be true.

"Boy, wouldn't it be wonderful if I could just hand over all the business management to you and I could just concentrate on the creative end?"

"I could take care of your taxes, your payroll, your accounts payable, your incoming royalties. I could handle your employees' retirement funds and their insurance, and all the financial arrangements involved in running a production the size of your show. Who does all that for you now?"

"A bookkeeper named Sue."

"Sue, huh?" They both thought about firing Sue; then he said, "She could show me your computer system, get me started. Would there be enough work to keep two of us busy?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

It was a minor hitch and they knew it. He rubbed her arm and assured her quietly, "You could trust me, Tess."

"Oh, heavens, I've known that since you counted out Momma's change the night you brought her softener salt in. You gave her every last penny." The mention of her mother brought another thought. "Boy, Momma would sure miss you if you moved away from Wintergreen."

"We'd go back to see her often though. More often than you have without me. I'd make you."

She chuckled, and said, "I know you would. And it'd be good for me, too. I need to see Momma more often."

They imagined it for a while and it began to seem entirely feasible.

"What about Casey?" she asked. "Would you want her to keep living with us?"

"I don't know. What would you want?"

She gave it some thought, and remarked, "I sure love that girl."

He kissed the top of her head, and his tired eyes closed. "I know. That's what started this whole thing, isn't it? And that's one of the reasons I love you so much."

"But I'll confess to you that I don't want to have any kids of my own. My career is too important to me."

"Then Casey can be your kid. It's perfect." He yawned.

She imagined Casey as her kid and loved the idea. "I think I would want her to live with us for a while. I'm not tired of her yet."

He chuckled and rubbed his cheek against her hair. It was dry now and curled up like Little Orphan Annie's. He yawned again and her voice began fading away as she went on talking.

"I want you to see my house, Kenny. It's really beautiful. It's two stories with this fantastic overhanging balcony and a grand piano in this immense front window."

"Mmm…" he mumbled.

"I have an office there, and Casey has her own bedroom, and our bedroom overlooks the pool."

Our bedroom, he repeated to himself, while from the wispy world of semiconsciousness, he smiled.

"When can you come and see it, Kenny?" Tess said, and getting no answer, "Hey, Kenny?" Drawing back, she discovered he'd drifted off to sleep. She smiled and studied his face in repose, loving what she saw, imagining that face on the other pillow for the rest of her life, knowing it was exactly what she wanted.

"Kenny," she said again, simply to speak his name one more time before spending the night beside him. "I love you."

She reached across him and turned out the light, then dragged the extra pillows from behind him and threw one on the floor. He roused slightly as she wriggled down into a comfortable curl at his side and turned her backside against him. Mumbling something unintelligible, he hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her back into his warm curve.

She smiled, closed her eyes and thought, Now I have everything.

At daybreak she awakened right where she'd fallen asleep, snuggled in the Z of his body. It was an exquisite place to be, and she closed her eyes and waited for a sign that he was waking up.

When he wiggled, she rolled over to face him and snuggled her kneecaps smack up against his stomach with her feet hooked over his knees.

"Hi," she whispered, and he opened one eye.

"Hi," he said in a voice like a galvanized bucket dragging on concrete.

"Still respect me?"

He closed the eye. "Uh-huh."

"Still wanna marry me?"

"Uh-huh."

"Still wanna keep my books?"

"Not right at this moment."

She giggled and kissed his chin. His eyes remained closed. She poked a finger into his mouth, and said, "Let's call room service and order breakfast for four, then tell Momma and Casey to get up here and tell them what we're going to do."

Biting her nail, still with his eyes closed, he said, "Mm-kay. But do I have to put up with this intrusive behavior every morning?" The words came out muffled before he spit out her finger.

"Nope," she said. "Some mornings I'll be gone, singing in some faraway city-who knows? Could be as far away as China maybe-then you'll be so lonesome you'll wish I was there to pester you."

He smiled and pushed her knees down and rolled over on top of her. "Darlin'," he said, stretching out full-length, fitting his fingers between hers and burying her hands in the pillow, "you can pester me anywhere, anyway, anytime."

She took him at his word, then and there.

Afterward, they did exactly what she'd suggested, calling the two people they loved most and inviting them up to breakfast in Tess's suite, then they showered and dressed and tried to contain their excitement about telling Casey and Mary.

At precisely ten, the doorbell rang and Kenny answered.

"Room service, sir." A white-coated waiter rolled the table up to the sofa, lifted its drop leaves, and pulled four side chairs up to it.

"Would you like me to open the champagne, sir?"

"Yes, please."

The young Asian man wrapped a white napkin around the bottle of A. Charbaut et Fils and popped the cork. "Shall I pour, sir?"

"No, thank you. We'll wait till our guests arrive." The waiter put the bottle back into the footed silver wine cooler and Kenny saw him out. When he opened the door he found Mary and Casey just ready to ring the bell.

"Heyyyy… good morning!" he greeted them jovially, kissing their cheeks as they came inside. "How did everybody sleep?"

Casey gave him a curious glance. "Gee, you're in a good mood this morning."

"You bet," he said, clapping his hands once and shutting the door.

More greetings and kisses were exchanged with Tess while they got Mary seated on the sofa.

Casey eyed the ice bucket. "Champagne? At ten o'clock in the morning? What's the occasion?"

"Sit down, honey," Kenny said. "Tess?" He pulled out a chair for her, then seated himself.

Casey eyed them both suspiciously while Mary lifted silver lids and sniffed the food.

"What's this? It looks good."

"A ham-and-cheese omelette," Tess answered, hoping she'd guessed right, for Kenny had placed the order.

"Who's for champagne?" he said, pulling the green bottle out of the ice.

"Not me," Casey said. "I can't stand the stuff."

"None for me, either. Gets me goofy," Mary said. "I'll have some coffee, though."

Kenny began filling everyone's cups and Casey watched him curiously as he came to hers. "Dad, what's the matter with you? You know I don't drink coffee."

"Oh!" He stopped pouring and set the silver pot down. "Well… then drink your orange juice, because Tess and I want to make a toast." He sat down and caught Tess's eye, giving her the go-ahead.

She lifted her flute. "Momma… Casey…" Another flute, a stem glass and a coffee cup joined it. "The toast is to all of us, and to our future happiness. We called you down here to tell you that Kenny and I are going to get married."

Mary looked stunned, as if she'd drop her cup.

Casey exclaimed, "I knew it!"

"How did you know it?" Kenny said.

"Well, you've still got your tuxedo pants on, Dad," she said, leaping to her feet to hug him.

"Oh…so I do."

"It's obvious you didn't spend much time in your room last night. Oh… sorry, Mary."

"Married?" Mary interjected belatedly. "But… but when did all this happen? I thought you two… oh, my… oh, gracious…" She started crying.

"Momma, what's wrong?"

"N-nothing. I'm just so happy." She covered her nose with a linen napkin. "You're really going to marry Kenny?"

"Yes, I am." Tess touched her mother's hand tenderly while the old woman stuck a stiff napkin under her glasses and dabbed at her eyes. Then the two shared an awkward hug across the corner of the table.

"Oh, my gracious me, this is too much."

Next, Casey threw a hug on Tess, and both of them felt tears gathering in their throats. "You guys…" she said, growing emotional, "you sure know how to make a girl happy." When the emotional level got critical, she cracked a joke. "Does this mean I have to call you Mother, Mac?"

"Mother Mac? Oh, please, no." They all laughed, because there were tears in a lot of eyes.

Then Mary said, "Kenny, come here," and put her arms up. He left his chair and went to hers, leaned down into her embrace and felt her loving arms fold around him as he dropped to one knee. "Oh, Kenny," she whispered, but could say no more. She could only feel her tears roll over her downy cheeks as he held her.

"I love her very much," he whispered, "nearly as much as I love you." He pulled back and looked up at her, squeezing her hands hard.

"It's just so unbelievable."

"It is… I know."

Mary freed one of her hands to take one of Tess's. "You and Kenny," she said.

"But the hard part is, Momma, I have to take him away from you."

"Oh, don't be silly." Finding her spunk, Mary released their hands and flapped her napkin impatiently. "I can get along just fine without him. I've got two sons-in-law and those big, strapping grandsons. They can help me when I need it."

"But you'll miss him."

"Well, of course I will. But-oh, my-how happy you've made me."

Suddenly Casey had a thought. "Oh, my gosh!" she exclaimed. "You'll be my grandma, Mary!"

"Well, now, that's a job I'll like!"

It took a while before they got around to eating breakfast. Who could eat breakfast with happiness like this chasing everything mundane from the mind? But finally somebody realized the food was getting cold, and they removed the lids and were two minutes into the meal when Casey stopped, and said it for all of them.

"Hey, you know what? This is going to be absolutely perfect-I mean, all four of us as a family. It's like it was meant to be."

It certainly was, their smiles all said.

Meant to be.