Matrimonial Matters

Disclaimer: The characters of John Lawless, Willy Kaa, Paulie Davidson and Alan Snow belong to South Pacific Pictures. The use of those characters in this story is not intended as copyright infringement. The rest of the characters in this story are from my previous Lawless stories or my imagination and are copyrighted by me.

"You sure you want to do this?" Tam asked uncertainly. She stared at her lover, her violet eyes wide with surprise. They were in Willy's office at the garage. She had popped in right after work at Red Baron Bikes dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt. Willy was actually dressed far more formally. She knew he'd met with the bankers and accountants that day. He looked handsome in his starched shirt and black trousers. The crisp white button down Brooks Brother shirt she'd bought him accentuated the dark tone of his skin and eyes. He looked like a man who had big dreams and big plans.

Willy nodded as he stared at Tam. She looked pretty as usual, her skin glowing, her eyes sparkling. Her hair was loose and looked shiny like silk. He longed to run his fingers through it. He always liked the way she looked, but he liked her best in tight jeans and t-shirts, well, maybe naked was better, but . . . A lascivious grin lit his face. Then his eyes softened and began to twinkle. "Yeah. I'm sure."

She cocked her head, her eyes full of questions. "It's a really big thing, ya know. And it's not all that necessary. I'm fine with things as they are."

"Tam, I . . ." he swallowed twice. "I never thought I'd say this, but I guess I'm an old-fashioned bloke. I really want us to be . . . settled."

"But marriage?" she shook her head. "You know I tried it already. Didn't work out so good."

"I'm not a dickhead," Willy snorted. "At least not THAT kind."

Tam laughed and put her arms around her lover. "Willy, I love you. You don't have to do this for me."

He stroked her hair and pulled her closer. "It's not for you. It's for me. For us. Besides, the blokes at the bank, they seen my record. They think . . . Tam, I'm . . . it would make things easier."

She knew he was trying to run the garage legit. Knew that it wasn't easy for him. Still, that was no reason to get married, unless . . . "Willy, are you sure? I can handle the wankers at the bank."

He stared at her then grinned ruefully. "Not gonna let this go, are ya? Gonna make me say it?"

She smiled, her violet eyes began to sparkle and she whispered, "Say what?"

Willy groaned and confessed, "I love you. I WANT to marry you. I WANT to know you and I are . . . together."

"Ownership?" she whispered, suddenly afraid that he'd gone all macho on her.

"Partnership," he insisted as he released her. "Like the garage."

"Partnership?" she echoed. "You really mean that?"

He nodded. "You and me together, equal."

She nestled back against him and relaxed. "Name the day."

"You're what?" John shouted.

Willy grinned like a fool. He'd tracked John down to his office and was now explaining his grand plan. John stared at him incredulously, his mouth open and his eyes wide.

"Why not?" Willy snapped indignantly.

John shook his head and studied his friend. Willy looked blissfully happy and proud. Since he'd begun running the garage for Tam, Willy had changed. It wasn't just that Willy was in love, although that HAD softened all his hard edges. It wasn't just that Willy had gone completely legit, no more dodgy or wonky enterprises for him. It was more that Willy had seemed to grow, to bloom and blossom like a flower. He had always been kind and generous underneath his tough macho pose, but now, he was less prickly, less defensive, less quick to TAKE offense.

John had watched as Willy's life had become intimately entwined with Tam's. They were now commingled like a tangle of vines and his friend had transformed into a new person. John didn't know why he was so surprised by Willy's plan, but he was. "I dunno," John observed quietly. "I guess I just thought . . . you never seemed like . . ."

"The type?" Willy snorted. "You think I don't want to make an honest woman of her? What kind of bloke do you think I am?"

"No," John protested quickly. "It's not that. It's just marriage . . . it's a big thing."

"No shit?" Willy sneered. "Just 'cause you made a mess of yours . . ."

"Shit, Willy, that's NOT what I meant. I guess congratulations are in order."

"You should have started there," Willy snapped. "Instead of acting like . . ."

"A dickhead?" John interrupted. "You took me by surprise, that's all. I never figured you to settle down, eh. If you're happy, then I'm happy for you."

"You mean it?" John nodded. "Good. 'Cause I need a best man and you're it."

John was touched by the offer. "You want me to be your . . . best man?" he repeated.

Willy nodded and then added, "You would've been my bro-in-law if . . ." he paused as a mild wave of grief for their mutual loss washed over him. Then he grinned and added in a sarcastic tone," Anyways, you're the only wanker I know who I'd trust NOT to steal the ring."

John laughed. "Fair enough. So when's this gonna happen?"

Willy shrugged. "I wanted to do it New Year's, but Tam said that was too soon, so . . . Valentine's Day."

John grinned. "Good day. Lots of time before that to organize things. Guess you'll be wanting a stag night and all."

Willy grinned back. "I dunno. Seems like I've got the best of all worlds . . . speaking of which, you still seeing that redhead, Kelly?"

John nodded. Though John wanted Willy and Kelly to meet, they had never quite managed to do more than say hello in passing. He wasn't sure if it was Willy or Kelly who had the problem, but the end result was the same. Each time he had tried to get them together, something had interfered.

Willy seemed to read his mind. "You and her, are you serious?"

John shrugged. "I dunno, Will. Seems like . . ." he paused as he thought of the past few weeks. As much as they were together, they were still things, "I'm crazy about her, but . . ."

Willy nodded sagely. "Relationships can be tough," he announced firmly.

"When did you become such an expert?" John asked with a laugh.

"Since I decided to get married," Willy retorted with a smile.

"Think you're smart, dontcha?" John admonished him.

Willy laughed. "Not for me to say. Anyways, maybe we should try to get the four of us together. Before the wedding."

"I'd like that, Willy. I'd like that very much."

Eric studied his face in the mirror above the sink. That was definitely stubble. Enough stubble to maybe need a shave. He wondered if he should ask John. He'd been living with John for a week now and although they'd spent more time together, it wasn't really all that different, except now he'd seen his . . . father . . . first thing in the morning and last thing at night.

He liked that John was easy about things. They'd gone to the grocery together and Eric had picked out what he wanted to eat. He guessed his Mum wouldn't be too thrilled with some of his choices, but John was cool with it. They'd watched a lot of telly, rugby and soccer mostly, and he'd even taught John how to use the completely extreme PS2. He liked his room. He could tell John had gone to a lot of trouble over it. In fact, he liked living there. Liked John. But it still felt as if something was missing. He could tell John thought so too, but Eric wasn't sure what was lacking and John never said.

Suddenly there was a knock on the loo door and he heard John say his name.

"What?" Eric replied.

"Is um . . . everything okay?" John asked tentatively.

"I'm fine," Eric hissed as he opened the door.

John stood uncertainly outside the loo. He didn't want to invade his son's privacy, but Eric had been in there for a long time. John was still trying to work out how the living together was going. Eric had lived there for a week and so far, it seemed all right, but . . . the closeness he'd hoped for hadn't quite materialized. They spent time together, but they still seemed to be strangers.

Eric stood near the sink wearing a pair of blue pajama bottoms. John saw his son's upper body was developing nicely and thought Eric would be powerful and strong. The boy's face looked a little odd though, almost dirty. Then John suddenly knew. He grinned and acknowledged, "You've got . . . you need to shave."

Eric grinned back. "That's what I was thinking. Only . . ."

"No worries. I've got an extra around."

John moved into the bathroom and began to rummage around in the cabinet. He found a disposable razor and handed it to his son. Then he got out the shaving cream.

Eric eyed the items uncertainly and then looked at John.

John smiled. "I still shave even though I have the goatee. I have a heavy beard. And once you start to shave, it grows faster." He paused thoughtfully, studied the teen's unsure face and got a brilliant idea. "Want me to show you?" Eric nodded.

John moistened his face with warm water, lathered his cheeks and then more carefully than usual shaved them using slow downward strokes. As he did, he watched Eric's eyes. They seriously followed his motions as if he were performing a life saving operation.

John wiped his face and then washed the razor. He handed it to his son.

Eric lathered his face and very slowly began to shave, feeling like a grown-up. He took his time, getting used to the feel of the razor on his skin, trying not to cut himself. He felt John's eyes watching him. When he finished, he wiped his face as John had done and then looked at him.

John was feeling overwhelmed with emotion. His son looked so young and so serious as he shaved for the first time. This was a rite of passage and to have shared it with him marked something special. He wanted so much to hug Eric, but he still refrained from forcing any physical intimacy. He settled for ruffling his son's hair.

Eric smiled and said gratefully, "Thanks . . . John." For some reason, Eric still couldn't get the word Dad out. He knew John wanted to hear it, knew John waited for it and he wanted to use it, but something kept it in his throat. Still . . . this . . . this was a father-son thing and it suddenly felt right. Eric swallowed hard and then added softly, "Dad, can I ask you something?"

John's heart nearly burst at the sound of that tiny word. He never thought three little letters could be so amazing. But hearing his son call him Dad . . . He clenched his hands at his side to keep from grabbing the boy and mumbled, "Anything . . . son."

Eric's eyes widened at John's response and then he smiled. "How old were you when you . . . grew hair?" he gestured at his chest.

John grinned back. "About your age. Maybe a little older. One day it was kind of there, ya know? I expect it must have been growing but I didn't really notice and then I did."

"Hmm," Eric mumbled. He looked at the razor and then at John.

"You know," John mused slowly, "I think you need to have your own kit for shaving. What do you say we do a little shopping today?" Eric nodded enthusiastically. "And," John added, "I noticed, 'cause of the workouts, that you could maybe use some new clothes. Would you like that?" Again, Eric nodded.

"Bewdy," John exclaimed. "And maybe," he continued, deciding now was as good a time as any, "Kelly could join us for lunch?"

Eric had wondered about her. He knew John had seen her, been with her. The fourth night he'd been living there, John had gone out and come home quite late. He guessed that John had been with her and he wondered why John hadn't brought her home with him. He assumed his Dad was shagging her. "That'd be fine," Eric acquiesced.

"Thanks," John agreed gratefully. "I don't want you to be . . . I mean, if it makes you feel disloyal to your Mum . . ."

"It's okay . . . Dad," Eric admitted. "Honest. I'd rather . . . you always say how you don't want to hurt Mum and I believe you. So like I told you, if she's in your life then I guess she's in mine too."

John was touched by the generosity of the offer. "Eric, do you have any idea how special you are?"

Eric felt his face flush the way it always did at a compliment. "Whatcha mean?"

"Your Mum did a great job with you. You have a good heart."

Eric didn't know quite what to say, so he did the only thing he could think of. He asked, "John, Dad, I get the feeling sometimes . . . the night I found out, you hugged me, but you've never done it since. Is there a reason?"

John's jaw dropped. "I didn't want to push you. Space is an important thing, personal space I mean. I figured . . ."

Eric moved toward his father and opened his arms. The two embraced and John felt love wash over him in a completely different way than any other he had ever felt before. He held his son tightly as if Eric were a lifeline. Then he released him and took a step back. He stared at the boy in wonder and muttered, "I don't know how I got so bloody lucky."

"Lucky?" Eric echoed.

"You're amazing, Eric. And . . ." John stopped and suggested, "You don't like compliments any more than I do, eh?"

Eric confessed ruefully, "Never sure if I should believe them."

"Don't see yourself the way the rest of the world sees you?" Eric nodded. "I know about that too. I used to feel stupid and unsure all the time. I never thought I was good at anything."

"Really? But you're . . ." the boy's words trailed off.

"What? I'm what?"

"You've got a great job and a girlfriend and . . ."

"You think those things make you someone? Makes everything okay?" Eric nodded. John shook his head. "It doesn't. But over time, I learned to . . . like myself. To be comfortable with things."

"How?" Eric asked eagerly. "Can you teach me?"

It was a turning point of immense proportions and John knew it. John smiled and ruffled his son's hair. "I can try," he confirmed slowly. "I can try.

Kelly checked herself in the mirror one last time. The khaki slacks were creased; the white blouse was crisp and buttoned high. The belt circling her waist was simple and black. She'd pulled her hair into a ponytail. Her makeup was light, just some mascara and a little lip-gloss. Her jewelry was simple too; gold hoops on her ears, a small gold cross on her neck and her gold watch. No bracelets, no rings, no jangling things. She wanted to look good, but non-threatening. This lunch was the most important date she and John had ever had. She was to be officially introduced to his son as his girlfriend. She studied herself in the mirror wishing she looked less Irish and more matronly. Well, she'd changed three times already and if she didn't leave in the next five minutes, she would be late. John hated that, so she grabbed her bag and took off.

She got to the French Café in Newmarket with five minutes to spare. She sauntered in and glanced around the crowded restaurant. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw them. Two dark heads bent together in animated conversation, both smiling, mirror images with dimples. The two of them had obviously passed a pleasant and profitable morning and their pleasure in each other's company was miraculous. They looked so alike it was incredible Eric had never tumbled to it before. Or that John had been blind to it as well. She watched for a moment, reluctant to interrupt them. John had hungered for the closeness she could now see for so long and she felt like an interloper. She suspected, that whatever Eric might say, he still harbored hopes that his Mum and John would get back together. Even so, she knew she had to face this hurdle sometime.

John looked up, almost as if he felt her gaze. He saw her, smiled full out and then waved.

She smiled in answer then slowly made her way to the table. John rose and after a moment, so did his son. "Gidday, Kelly," John said formally. "You remember Eric?"

She nodded.

Eric looked at her curiously for a moment, his eyes bright with interest, then glanced at John and finally mumbled, "You can kiss her. I don't mind."

John's face flushed and so did Kelly's. Neither of them quite knew where to look or what to do. Finally, John awkwardly pulled out a chair for Kelly and she went to it. She looked at him and murmured in an undertone, "You should do what he says. I've missed you."

John grinned self-consciously and gave her a small peck on the cheek.

She stared at him then pulled his face to hers and kissed him hard. After a moment she released him, sat down, looked at Eric and asked, "How was that?"

Eric grinned and admitted, "Not bad."

Kelly grinned back and the big chunk of ice between them seemed to break and float away.

John gazed at his lover then at his son and shrugged. He sat down and asked, "What did I miss?"

Kelly laughed. "Your son thinks you should behave normally. So do I."

"Eric?"

He grinned at his father. "Look, Dad, I'm not a little kid. I know that . . . anyways . . . you don't have to be on . . . eggshells."

Kelly saw the way John's eyes lit when Eric called him Dad. He glowed in a way she had never seen before. It was beautiful and terrifying. The emotion she could sense from him, the love cascading off him toward his son was breathtaking. It made her happy and sad all at once. She could never compete with that, not in any way, shape or form.

"Sorry . . . son," John apologized slowly. "I just . . . I know how you . . . "

"You know about my Mum?" Eric asked as he turned to stare at Kelly. Kelly nodded. "She loves him," Eric continued. "But she knows and after seeing the way you two . . . I guess I know, too."

"Seeing the way what?" John asked.

Eric flushed. "The way your face lit up when you saw her. I guess, maybe, 'cause of Linda, I . . . anyway, I can see that you two are . . . and if it makes you happy, then . . ."

"Eric," Kelly acknowledged slowly. "That's sweet. It's a lovely thing to say and I appreciate it. If it helps any, I'm crazy about your Dad."

Eric grinned. "Yeah, I could see that, too. It was some kiss."

Kelly flushed but kept her gaze steady. "He's very special and so are you. Thank you for letting me join you today."

"I thought it was about time. I think he," Eric gestured at his father, "was a little . . . nervous."

"Terrified," John muttered. "But clearly you two are . . ."

"Going to be friends," Kelly insisted firmly. "Least I hope so."

"I'd like that," Eric agreed.

"Me too," she confirmed.

"Me three," John added.

Kelly smiled and then asked about their morning. John and Eric had apparently bought out all the shops on Broadway as well as those in 2 Double 7, the shopping center. It had obviously been fun for the both of them and she loved watching the pleasure and joy move across their faces as they talked about their purchases. Eric had even talked his father into purchasing a few things for himself. With a secretive smile, neither boy nor man would say what they were; only that Kelly would find out eventually. She had to be content with that and she was. When lunch was finished, John walked her to her car while Eric watched with an almost mischievous grin on his face.

When they arrived she teased, "He expects you to kiss me."

"I intend to," John replied. He pulled her into his arms in a hug. "Kelly, I don't know how I can thank you enough. He likes you."

"John, he LOVES you. He's prepared to care about whatever and whomever you care about."

"I'm not so sure of that. I know he likes me, but love? He's never said."

"Trust me," she reassured him. "Even if he hasn't said it, he feels it. Give him time, he'll tell you."

"And you?"

"And me what?" She relaxed in his embrace and then slipped her arms around him.

"Do you like him?"

She laughed softly into his neck. "Of course I do. He's sweet, funny, smart, but most of all, he's your son. How could I NOT adore him?"

He tilted her face to stare into her eyes. "Really?" She nodded. "You know, you never said, how you feel about kids. I know you were worried about having to deal with a teenager in my life, but what about babies. Do you like babies too?"

Shit, how did she answer that one? She swallowed hard and claimed, "I love kids. Babies, toddlers, rugrats."

"Good," he murmured into her hair. "'Cause I want some. Lots of them. I know you come from a large family, so I was hoping . . ."

"You making long term plans for us?" she teased. Her tone was light, although inside she felt a huge burst of anxiety.

"Maybe," he confessed. "I dunno. I've been thinking, though. I'd have liked to have seen his first smile, his first steps. With Willy getting married . . . I guess it IS on my mind."

She'd been afraid of that. "John," she murmured, "this isn't the best time to discuss this. Eric's waiting and I have some errands to run. Give us a kiss and we can talk about it another time."

He thought he heard an undercurrent of something like distress in her voice that he didn't understand. Still, she'd been amazing, the whole day had been incredible, so he decided to ignore the whisper of concern and do as she asked. He captured her face lightly and brushed her lips with his. Then he let her go.

"You aren't getting away with only that," she muttered. She grasped his face and pulled his mouth back to hers. She kissed him hard, her mouth hungry for the touch of his. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him tight. She flicked her tongue out and felt him respond.

As John kissed her back, he felt her body melt against his and he ran his hands up her back. Her kiss was full of passion, her body arching into him, pressing urgently. When she finally pulled back she whispered, "I've missed you. When can we . . ."

He stroked her face. "I'm not sure. Maybe tomorrow night? Can I come over?"

She nodded.

"I love you, Kelly Margaret Mary Callahan."

"And I love you," she murmured. "Be over at seven. Then we'll have a few hours."

He sighed. "I miss waking up with you."

"Me too, but . . ."

John glanced guiltily toward his son and confirmed, "I'll see you tomorrow."

John and Eric returned to his house and unpacked the car. Eric rushed to his room to hang up his new clothes apparently anxious to keep them from wrinkling.

John went to his room more slowly. He couldn't believe what he'd let his son talk him into buying. He'd never been one to care about clothes; even Marla had had to force him to shop. Kelly never really seemed to care how he dressed, despite her insistence that he purchase a suit. That had been more of a test of his feelings than anything else.

Still, he'd allowed his son to drag him into Politiks and pick out the two shirts, the tie and the slacks. He'd have to trust his son's judgment as to how they looked. As he hung them up, he realized that most of his wardrobe was dark, except for the gray suit and two blue shirts. Eric had induced him to purchase bright primary colors, red and green to be exact. He shook his head and looked at the second bag from Hugo Wright's. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to buy it, except that Eric thought it would be flash and he supposed that was a good enough reason. Well, he wouldn't be wearing it for a while yet. It had come cheap out of season. He pulled the supple leather jacket out of the bag and hung it up as well.

As he was standing there holding the tie, wondering where to put it and more importantly just when and where he would wear it, Eric strolled in.

"Whatcha doing?" the boy asked.

"Pondering the reason for this," John mused as he held up the thin black leather tie.

Eric grinned. "Kelly will like it."

"Ya reckon?"

Eric nodded. "I like her."

John felt his body relax from a tension he hadn't even realized was there. "I'm glad. She likes you too."

Eric grinned. "She likes YOU."

John felt his face flush. He dropped the tie on the bed and moved toward his son. He ruffled the hair on Eric's head and insisted, "She likes you too. Honest."

"Dad, are you and her . . . serious?"

"Eric, I don't really know. I'm crazy about her, but we've only been dating a short time. I think I might like to spend the rest of my life with her, but . . . it's still a little soon."

Eric looked at him consideringly. "She really likes you. When she looks at you, she makes me think of a hungry cat. Like you're the cream and she wants to lick you up."

John felt his face grow even redder as he tried to explain. "Um . . . Eric . . . that look on a woman . . . That's more desire than emotion. I'm not saying she doesn't care, 'cause I know she does, but that look . . . well it doesn't mean . . ."

"So are you two doing it?" he asked curiously.

John didn't know HOW to answer that. He swallowed hard and then finally muttered, "Do you suppose we could leave my sex life out of this?"

Eric grinned at him. "I dunno. I guess most kids don't . . . they KNOW their parents do it, 'cause that's how they got there. But . . . I don't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I have to admit, I am. It never occurred to me that I would be the one . . . I thought I'd have to be worried about YOU."

Eric laughed. "Well, I'm not getting any. As both you and Mum have pointed out, I'm too young. But I still . . . "

"Think about it?" the boy nodded. "It's natural. 'Cause at your age, you're all hormones."

"Well, from the way you kissed Kelly," Eric teased, "I'd say you were too."

John felt as if he wanted to crawl under his bed. "Eric," he began.

"Dad, you don't have to pretend. I know you're an adult. If you want her to . . . spend the night, it's okay with me."

John swallowed again. This was twice now that Eric had suggested that he and Kelly . . . he shook his head. "No. I don't feel at all comfortable with that. It's . . ."

Eric grinned. "Well, if you want to stay at her house, I can take care of myself."

Again, John shook his head. "Thanks, but . . . I promised your Mum I'd take care of you. I'm not going to leave you alone all night.

Eric shrugged. "Suit yourself. Seems a waste to me."

"Can we PLEASE change the subject? Of all the things I thought we'd ever discuss, this was NOT on the list."

His son seemed to find that incredibly funny. Eric began to laugh and then he asked, "There's rugby in about ten minutes on the telly. Want to watch?"

Now THAT John could handle. He smiled and agreed, "Sure. Shall I ring for pizza? We can make a night of it."

Kelly lay in her tub thinking of John. She had lit candles and filled it full of scented oils, but it was Saturday night and she was alone. She knew John was with his son, probably doing the pizza and sports thing. She sighed. She knew it wouldn't be forever. Still she missed him dreadfully. Not just the sex, although there was that, but what had been his almost completely undivided attention.

John had come into her life, determined to sweep her off her feet. He hadn't done it the traditional way with flowers, sweets or gifts, but instead by stripping himself emotionally bare for her. He'd offered NOT lavish presents, but instead a smorgasbord of information, all his emotions for her to see and hear. He'd opened his heart and his arms, asking only that she love him.

At first, she couldn't believe any of it. No one, especially no bloke could be as real, as open and as sure of things as he was. Then she had come to learn that John really was the most amazing man. Still, there were things . . .

His past was a mess; the phantoms never laid to rest. Marla, Sonya, Caro, Claire . . . she shivered in the hot water from how close she had come to death. It had been awful, horrible, not only to be physically threatened, but to watch that woman die. It could have been her . . . yet despite that horror, despite her fear of physical harm, she was still with John. Instead of making her run from him, it had brought her closer to him. Any sane woman would probably run like hell from a man who brought that kind of trouble into her life, but in some weird way, it made her want to be with him even more. As if somehow, her presence in his life could save him and protect him. She knew it was possible that it could happen again. John was like a magnet for trouble. Yet, she wouldn't let THAT come between them.

She loved him and she knew he loved her, but what would he do when . . . She popped some bubbles. Watching him with his son was a joy. John cared deeply for Eric and it was clear from his every action how he felt. He was a good father, would have been a good father to a baby, too. He wanted that, she could tell.

She sighed. Why was everything so complicated? Why couldn't life be simple? John was such a wonderful bloke, strong, smart, secure in himself, he was everything she could ever want. It was true that he had ghosts, specters that haunted him, that now haunted her, but still . . .

She thought of Alan Snow. After she'd left John and his son, she'd gone to see him. He was in hospital now. He only had a few days left and he was truly dying alone. Except for her. He looked small and old as he lay in the bed. His skin was translucent and his eyes were haunted by pain, physical and emotional. She had tried to ease his mind, but the one thing he wanted she couldn't give him. She hadn't even tried to discuss him with John, knowing that she could never get them together. It was hopeless and she wasn't stupid or foolish enough to attempt it. John had made a decision, a choice and no matter what she did, he would not change it. Snow was a closed topic. Period. Although she was gladder than ever that she had simply destroyed all the evidence of Claire's insanity without telling John a word about it. The explosion if she told him about Snow and Snow's part in it would have been beyond bearing.

She sighed again and wished John were in the tub with her. She missed his lovely hard body, the warmth of his embrace, the gentleness of his touch.

Willy sighed. He hated spending Sunday mornings at the garage. He much preferred to laze in bed with Tam, but . . . he was the boss and as such, had to present a good front. A good example for the workers, who he also suspected, would prefer to be in bed. He studied the bloke who sat in front of him. He wore a green checked suit and a black tie. He had a face like a monkey and the spiel of a born salesman. The bloke's name was Frank.

"I tell you, Willy, it's a great deal," Frank declared.

Frank wanted to sell him some auto parts. The price was choice. The problem was Willy didn't really believe the parts were legally obtained. He asked suspiciously, "How do you beat everyone else's price?"

"Volume," Frank insisted. "I sell more, so I can do it cheaper."

Willy wanted to believe him, he really did. But . . . "You're sure it's not dodgy?" he asked.

"Legit, Willy, strictly legit," the bloke assured him.

"Let me think on it," Willy compromised. "Come back tomorrow."

"Might not be available tomorrow," Frank insisted. "Best deals go quick."

Willy thought for moment. "Then I'll pass on it. If you still have 'em tomorrow, come on by."

Frank rose clearly disappointed. "Cheers, mate," he said as he left.

Willy nodded absently. Running the garage was a lot more complicated than he had thought it would be.

John arrived at Kelly's to find the house dark. He knocked and when there was no answer, he began to get concerned. He checked his watch; he was right on time, seven o'clock. Suddenly worry assailed him. Had something happened to her? Should he check the windows, the back? Call the cops? As he stood there wrapped in indecision, her Lexus arrived. She parked in front and came running toward him. She looked upset.

"John," she squeaked as soon as she was close. "Sorry. I thought I'd be back in time."

"Kelly," he exclaimed as he pulled her into his arms. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head and shivered in his arms. She was still dressed as if she had been to church. Her outfit was demure and conservative yet he found it highly erotic. She leaned her head against his shoulder and he could feel her tremble. "Kelly, tell me what happened."

She said nothing, but held tight to him as if he had the answer to everything. After a long moment, she swallowed hard then pulled away. She opened her purse and handed him her keys in a wordless plea for him to open the door.

He unlocked her house and keeping a protective arm around her led her inside. He flicked on the lights as he went until they were in the kitchen.

"Kelly," he ordered. "Talk to me."

She pulled away from him and kicked off her shoes. She studied him intently, her eyes searching his. Finally, she swallowed hard and seemed to come to a decision. "You won't like it," she explained.

"I don't like this," he shouted. He saw her wince at the tone of his voice. "You're scaring me," he muttered in a softer tone. "You come home late and upset. I want to know what's going on."

"I've been at hospital. Alan Snow is dying. Probably tonight. All he wants is for you to forgive him. I've told him that won't happen, but . . ."

"You what?" he yelled. The muscle in his jaw began to twitch.

"Don't yell. I knew you'd hate it. I knew it. But he saved my life. I owed him something."

"You've seen him?" She nodded. "Even after I told you . . . even after I ASKED you not to have anything to do with him?"

She studied his angry stare and the stance of his body. He was furious with her, she could tell. The muscle in his jaw was twitching like crazy and his arms were vibrating with tension. She noticed his hands clenching at his side as if they itched to hit something. Finally, she said softly, "No one should have to die alone."

A quagmire of feelings began to bubble inside John swamping him with emotion. The thickest was anger, at Snow, at Kelly, at himself. He was furious with her for going being his back. He was also livid with Snow for attempting to cause another rift with a woman who was important to him. He was surprised that Kelly hadn't listened to him and frustrated that she hadn't trusted him knowing how he felt. Lastly, he was astonished that he also felt a twinge of regret and sadness over Snow's impending death. It was such a deep morass of conflict that it swallowed him up until it seemed to settle in the pit of his stomach hurting as if he'd been kicked there. He took a deep breath and keeping his voice low asked, "Where is he?"

"St. Paul's. John, he doesn't have much time. If you could . . . it would make all the difference to him. I don't like to ask . . . I know how you feel, but . . ."

At her stricken look, John gathered her into his arms. "Kelly, I'm sorry I yelled. The fact that you tried to help him makes me love you all the more. I know you think I should . . . make my peace, but Kelly, he took so much from me. So much I can't ever get back. If I see him . . ."

"If he hadn't done what he did, I wouldn't be in your life. Neither would Eric," she disputed slowly. "John, as much as he took, in a weird kind of way, he gave you even more."

John thought about that. His life was radically altered from what it would have been if he hadn't gone undercover for Snow. He'd probably still be living in Christchurch, blissfully unaware of Eric's existence and married to Marla. Despite all the shit, all the problems, all the pain, in some ways his life now was far better than his old life ever could have been. Still . . . "Sonya would be alive. And so would that guard."

"John," Kelly demurred slowly, "I've thought about this a lot. I don't know if I believe that. The blokes who pulled that robbery, they would have found the guns somewhere else and done it anyway. Bowers would still probably have killed that guard. As to Sonya, maybe she would be and maybe she wouldn't. Drugs can make people . . . well; you've seen it. John, would you really trade your life now for the life you had before?"

Would he? How could he know? He hadn't had a choice. "I don't know," he whispered. "But, what you're asking me to do . . . Kelly, I don't know if I can. I hate him."

"John, it's not him you hate," she whispered back. "It's yourself. You can't forgive him, because you can't forgive yourself. You carry such a load of guilt about things you have no control over. I know you still have nightmares about Sonya, the guard, Caro. You've had your share of troubles, no doubt, but the first step to forgiving yourself IS to forgive him."

Was she right? He thought for a long moment and then sighed. "Kelly, I don't know if you're right, but if it's that important to you . . ."

She shook her head. "You can't do this for me. You HAVE to do it for you. You HAVE to forgive him, to let it go, once and for all. You can't keep blaming him for the past. It eats at you and eats at you, even if you aren't conscious of it. What's done is done."

"I thought I was finished with it. Thought I had it handled," he mumbled. He paused and then added, "Until I saw him here. Then I realized . . ."

"What he did was rotten and he knows it. He's sorry and if he could take it back, he would. But he can't. Are you going to let him die without saying goodbye? Not only for him, but for yourself too? If you hadn't cared, the betrayal wouldn't have hurt so much."

He took her face into his hands and gazed into her eyes. "You're something, you are. How do you know the right thing to say?"

"I love you," she murmured. "But it doesn't mean I don't see the bad things. I'll go with you, if you want."

He shook his head. "No. I think . . . if I'm going to do this . . . I have to do it alone."

She nodded as if she understood. "When you're done, come back here. It doesn't matter when, just come back to me."

He pulled her tight. "I'll always come back, Kelly. I love you."

She clung to him tightly, wondering if he really would. She knew he would return that night, but what about later . . . when . . . "Go to him now, John. Before it's too late."

John sat in the car park drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He had left Kelly and driven straight to St. Paul's. Now that he was there, could he really do this? He had built Alan Snow into a villain, a villain of such immense proportions that he had managed to destroy any of the good there had once been. As he sat there, he thought about their first meeting and the early days of his undercover. Alan HAD been like a father to him then, guiding him through his nervousness and fears, his lifeline for a long time.

Their relationship had an almost paternal flavor to it and Alan had given him good advice. They had been friends once, until Alan had turned on him. How could he forgive him for that? Yet, . . . Kelly had a point. He had his son and her, two extraordinary things he would never have had if he were still on the force. Still married to Marla. He had told Willy that for every action there is a consequence. Frances had told him once that everything happens for a reason. His life was full now, good, changed of course, but he knew that it WAS better. However indirectly Alan Snow was responsible for that too. Maybe Kelly was right. Maybe it WAS time to make peace, forgive him and finally let it go.

With a sigh, John got out of his car and entered the hospital. He asked at the desk where to find Alan and then went to his room. John pushed in the door and saw his former mentor lying pale as chalk on the bed. His eyes were closed and for a moment, John thought he was too late. He felt a sudden rush of unexpected loss. Then he noticed a slight rise and fall to Snow's chest.

He knocked on the doorframe and Snow opened his eyes. For a moment, they didn't focus and then when they did, he saw fear, then hope move into them, masking the pain. "John?" Snow whispered from the bed.

John moved into the room and went to the chair next to the bed. "Alan," John began.

"I'm sorry," the former Detective Senior Sergeant apologized. "So sorry. I never meant, oh bloody hell, I DID mean. The need to survive was more important to me than anything else."

"Alan, I . . . Kelly said . . ."

A small smile moved across Snow's lips. "That's one hell of a woman you have there. Don't screw it up."

John shook his head and then laughed. "I probably will. Look, Alan, I'm not sure why I came, but . . ."

Snow began to cough, then he whispered, "John, I messed up your life badly. I know that. I tried to screw you with the force, but I was the one who ended up in jail. I couldn't forgive you, all I saw was the wrongs you'd done me, never once realizing how I'd brought it all on myself. It took watching that woman try to kill Kelly to make me understand. You can't go through life blaming someone else for your troubles. You have to . . . accept life and then just go on. If I hadn't been so locked in my bitterness and anger, then maybe . . . in any case, I just want you to know how sorry I am. For all of it."

John, to his great surprise, felt his eyes well with tears. Suddenly he remembered a quiet dinner several years before, just after he'd gone under. He had been afraid he was failing. Afraid he couldn't do it. Alan had gotten him drunk and told him about HIS first undercover. About all the ways he had screwed it up, about all the ways in which HE had feared he would fail. It had made John more confident to know that he wasn't alone, wasn't the first to be afraid. It had made everything easier. Alan HAD given him that and the confidence to survive.

John reached for Snow's hand. "Let it go, Alan," he acknowledged softly. "It's over now. All of it. Life turned out very differently than either of us expected, but . . . I . . . forgive . . . you."

Snow smiled again as if he knew what that concession had cost John. "That's not quite enough," he mumbled. "You need to forgive yourself. You aren't responsible for the death of that guard. For Sonya's death. Those are MY crosses to bear, NOT yours."

"Alan," John began.

"Don't argue with me," Snow snorted, sounding remarkably like his old self. "It's true. I AM responsible for their deaths. If I hadn't given you the guns, then the guard would be alive. If I hadn't told Sonya about you being a cop, she would probably be alive. Those deaths ride on my conscience. Not yours. You can't take what I did and make yourself responsible. You aren't."

It was a gift, and it was, John recognized, also the truth. No matter how much he externally blamed Snow, he had also continued to blame himself. Just as he had blamed himself for Caro's death. Yet, if he were honest, he had to acknowledge that Snow was right. He wasn't any more responsible for those deaths than he had been for Caro's. He didn't have control of the world, only of his own actions. He had used those first two deaths as an excuse to explain his failures, when in truth, he had done exactly what he wanted. He had wanted out of his marriage, out of the force. Those two deaths had given him the pathway he needed, just not in the way he had intended. Still . . . "Alan," he began again.

Once more Snow interrupted him. "John, I deeply regret . . . I'm sure I'll have to answer for my actions in the next life. But none of this was your fault. You did everything right and I did everything wrong. You were a good cop and I turned you. You would have made a fine inspector. But I suspect you're much happier now. You really never did like taking orders."

John laughed. "You're right there. I was a bit of a prick when it came to being told what to do."

"A bit? I remember once . . ."

John let his former mentor reminisce until Alan finally drifted off to sleep and into death. When John left at midnight, Alan Snow was gone and so was the bulk of John's guilt. Kelly had been right and so had Snow. It wasn't Alan he'd needed to forgive. It was himself. He drove back to Kelly's house feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Eric was planning to take Linda to an early show and then to tea. John had watched his son dress and thought how young and innocent he looked, despite the rather adult body. He was worried now about the hormone issue and had finally started a conversation with, "Eric, about sex . . ."

Eric's face had flushed. "I know we're too young. You don't have to harp on it."

John gulped. "I trust you, I do. It's just . . . sometimes things get out of control."

"Like you and my Mum?" Eric snapped.

"We were nineteen," John retorted, "quite a bit older. But yes, that IS what I meant. I knew better and I still . . . Not that I'm sorry, I'm glad you're here. It's just . . ."

Eric sighed. "Look, John, Dad, you don't have to worry. I wouldn't take advantage of Linda. So far, all we've done is kiss. As for me . . . I . . . well . . ."

John felt his face flush as red as his son's. "That's natural," John mumbled quickly. "Even I still . . ."

Eric's jaw dropped. His eyes went wide and he asked, "You still . . ."

John nodded. "Just 'cause you get older doesn't mean . . . there are still times . . ."

"I've really put a crimp in your sex life, eh?" Eric teased suddenly.

John's eyes opened wide. "Well, to be honest, a little. But you know, even before you were here, I didn't spend every night with her."

"So you're saying it's okay to always be randy? To . . . think about it a lot and . . . um . . . handle it yourself?"

"Yep. Kind of goes with being a healthy male."

"Well, then," the boy reflected, "I'm definitely healthy."

John laughed. "Me too."

Eric had taken off after that, leaving John at loose ends. Kelly had plans that night and even if she hadn't, he wasn't sure he wanted to see her. Despite his seeing Snow, despite his understanding why she had kept it from him, despite his returning to her that night, he still felt angry. He knew she had done it out of the purest of motives, from a loving heart, but the fact that she had lied by omission still rankled. If she hadn't been late, would she have even told him? It made him wonder if there was anything else she was hiding. He knew there was something going on with her, something that bothered her, but she wasn't sharing it. He didn't know if it was important or not. He only knew that whatever it was, if she didn't tell him soon, he would have to try to get it out of her. He didn't want there to be secrets between them, he didn't want any walls and this seemed like the beginning of one.

He sighed. He could worry about Kelly all he wanted, but it wasn't going to get him anywhere. He picked up the phone and dialed Frances instead. She answered on the second ring as if she'd been waiting by the phone.

"It's John. Are you busy?"

She laughed. "I'm always busy these days, but as a matter of fact, at the moment, I do happen to be free."

"Would you like to go out to tea?" he asked.

"Why don't you come over here?" she offered.

It had been a while since he'd been to her home. The thought of its comfortable ambiance cheered him. "Sounds good. I'll be right over."

He decided to walk rather than drive hoping the physical activity would ease some of his restless anger. He strolled up her footpath and knocked on the door. She pulled it open eagerly and invited him in. After he entered, he turned to study her. Frances had a glow about her and she was dressed in a . . . dress! Not the green one he'd seen twice before, but a summer dress with roses. She looked lovely and alive, blissfully happy. Her face was relaxed, all the lines softened. His heart leapt with happiness at her obvious well being. "You look terrific," he stated as he settled on the sofa.

"Don't sound so surprised, John. You'll hurt my feelings," she teased. She settled into her chair and picked up her knitting.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean . . . you KNOW what I meant."

She laughed softly. "Yes, I do know. And thank you."

"How are you?" he asked awkwardly. Now that he was there, he wasn't sure what he expected.

She eyed him speculatively. "You know," she mused slowly, "I'm fine. You on the other hand . . ."

He grinned ruefully. "I can't ever hide anything from you, can I?"

"You probably could, but I don't think you want to," she retorted.

"Nailed me again," he mumbled. "Tell me why do I put up with it?" he asked rhetorically.

"Who else would tell you the truth?" she answered.

He laughed. "Well, Kelly's been known to hit me with it on occasion."

"And you do generally need to be walloped over the head with it multiple times before you see it, don't you?" she chided him. However, the gentle tone of her voice and the clear affection in it, took much of the sting out of the words.

"Ouch," he replied. He shook his head. "Frances, I do think . . . I do need to talk."

"You usually do," she muttered under her breath.

John looked at her again. Had that been resentment in her tone? "Frances, have I taken advantage of our friendship?"

She stared at him for a long moment and then finally remarked, "John, you're a good bloke with a lot in your life. You try hard to do the right thing and usually you succeed. But sometimes you are SO self-involved that you don't realize what goes on with the people around you."

"I've neglected you, haven't I?"

"Neglected me?" she echoed. "No, John, that's not what I meant. You did me a great turn by bringing Tim into my life. But you do seem to assume that whenever you need me, I'll be here for you. You could think a little more about what goes on with other people."

John pondered this seriously. He'd been accused of being many things, but self-involved wasn't one of them. Still . . . "I do take you for granted, don't I?"

"Not just me, but Dave and Willy too. Even your Mum. Not everyone can live on your timetable."

"What do you mean?"

She could see he didn't understand. She sighed and let go with both barrels. "You expected to come here and pour out whatever was on your mind. Then you expected me to have an answer for you. It's nice that you think so highly of me, but it's selfish too. What if I don't want to play priest to your penitent? Maybe I'm not in the mood to hear your confession."

"Well," John grumbled rising from the sofa, "then I guess I should go."

She shook her head. "John, I wasn't really suggesting that. Only that you give some thought to your expectations of people BEFORE you force them on them. Because something tells me that ALL the things on your mind have to do with that."

He stood stock still for a moment as her words hit him. With a shock, he realized that she was probably right. "How the bloody hell do you do that?" he asked as he collapsed back on the sofa.

She laughed. "I know you, John. Probably better than you know yourself. Now, I'm going to make us a pot of tea. When I come back, have all your thoughts in order and I'll see if I can straighten you out." Her warm look of affection softened the harshness of her words.

He shook his head as he watched Frances float gracefully from the room. When she returned with the tea, he was ready. He told her about Kelly and Snow and about his concerns.

She eyed him seriously. "Well, John, think about it. Once again, your expectation was that she would do as YOU wanted. But Kelly is her own person and she has her own set of morals. She felt a debt of honor to Snow and she repaid it the only way she knew how. She didn't try to force HER expectations on you. Instead, she did what she thought was right, despite what the consequences could be. And it sounds as if she knew them. Still . . . she did it."

"She could have told me!"

Frances shook her head. "Could she? She knew you would explode and you did. The wonder here is that she eventually did tell you. If it had been I . . ."

"You'd have kept it from me too?"

"Of course. Your temper is hardly pleasant to deal with. You have an annoying habit of seeing things as so black and white, even when you KNOW the world is gray."

"Am I a monster then?" he demanded.

"No," Frances admonished sadly. "Just a bloke. John, what Kelly did, she did out of love for you and a generous heart. She wanted to find a way to get you past that last hurdle and as it turns out, she did. Are you going to condemn her for that?"

"It makes me wonder what else she's keeping from me," he muttered stubbornly.

Frances sighed. "You've known her how long, John, two months? Not very long. Yes, you're in love but that doesn't mean she's going to have told you everything. Think about this as if it were a case, using logic instead of your feelings. All people have . . . things . . . that it takes time to share. She has to trust you. Give her room, love her and when she's ready, she'll tell you. If you push her, try to push the boundaries aside before she's ready . . ."

He cocked his head and pursed his lips as he considered this. "You're saying I shouldn't . . . expect . . . to know everything about her, just because I've told her everything about me?"

Frances nodded. "Yes. Your feelings in this matter moved forward far more quickly than hers did. You were in love with her from almost the first moment you saw her. It's taken her longer to get in step. Give her space to trust you."

He sighed. He suspected Frances was probably right, but . . . "You're a nice woman, Frances. And I'm lucky to have you around to set me straight. How did I ever cope without you?"

"Not too well," she teased. Then she added. "John, you need to remember that not everyone's emotions move at the speed yours do. Sometimes I think you're just a bundle of unresolved feelings looking for an outlet."

"I feel like that sometimes," he admitted. "Especially around Eric."

"Ah. The other matter you have on your mind."

"Yes," he confessed. "I . . . things are good with him. He calls me Dad sometimes."

"That's a big step for him. So, what's the problem?"

John shrugged. "I dunno. I just . . . I don't feel we're as close as we should be."

"It's your expectations again," she explained slowly. "You seem to have this romantic idea of how the father-son relationship should be. But . . . John, those expectations are completely unreal. In point of fact, you probably have a better, easier relationship with Eric than you would have had if he'd grown up around you."

"What do you mean?"

Frances sighed again. Sometimes talking to John was like climbing up a very high hill. "Did any of your mates . . . when you were young, the blokes you grew up with, could they talk to their Dads about girls? Did they share personal things?"

John shrugged. "I dunno. I didn't really have any close mates. Not until later."

"Well, take it from me. Most fathers and sons don't have the kind of friendship you and Eric do. At least not at this age. If you were to ask him about his mates, I doubt they do the kind of things with their Dad that he does with you."

"But Frances, none of it seems very fatherly. When I call him son he looks at me so oddly."

Frances laughed softly. "Of course he does. It's an odd thing to call him. John, I think you're just so . . . impressed . . . with this whole thing that you're trying to do too much. You can't be a father to him as if he were a baby. It's too late for that. Just be his friend and maybe offer a bit of advice now and again. Answer his questions as honestly as you can."

"Questions?"

"I imagine the subject of Kelly and sex has come up."

"How the bloody hell did you know THAT?"

"It was obvious. He's a healthy boy, you're a healthy man and she's a lovely woman. So it's natural that he be curious."

John put his face in his hands. "I have no idea how to handle this. Twice now, he's suggested I bring her home with me and she stay the night. I've told him no, but . . ."

Frances laughed. "I told you, he's curious. Like you did, he's growing up in a single parent home. Possibly, part of why he suggested what he did is so he can see how happy and loving adults behave together. He doesn't have a frame of reference any more than you did."

John considered this. "You think he needs to see how a relationship works?"

"Well, it's easier to learn by example rather than trial and error. He IS growing up. He's dating. Maybe he wants some pointers."

"Like I'm such an expert," John muttered. "I'm lousy at relationships."

"Oh, I don't know about that. Seems to me you work hard at them. You were with Marla a long time and Caro. You aren't the 'love them and leave them' type."

"Except his Mum."

"You were a kid. You can be forgiven for that."

"Can I? Sometimes I think . . . I'm really not such a good person."

"You're a lovely man, John. Stop beating yourself up. It's a waste of energy."

He sighed. "So what do I do now?"

"You try not to have so many expectations of the people around you. Try to see how things feel to them before you decide what you're going to do. And try not to give orders or ultimatums. Kelly, especially, will kick it right back to you."

"Yeah, she's a spitfire, she is."

"And you wouldn't have it any other way. You need a strong woman, John. One who can stand on her own."

Willy exhaled, shook his head and repeated for the third time, "No."

"Come on, Will," Paulie insisted. "It's a great idea."

Willy stubbed out his smoke and studied Paulie. He was still such a kid, despite all the trouble he had seen. After his sister Sonya had committed suicide, he'd been angry and gotten himself into some deep shit. Willy had helped him and so had John and Paulie had seemed to straighten out. Now though . . . "It's stupid," Willy reiterated. "And what's more, it's illegal."

Paulie laughed. He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke toward his friend. "Since when did you care about that?"

"I got responsibilities now, ya dickhead. I can't be . . . doing that shit."

"You've changed, bro. You used to be . . . fun."

Willy's eyes widened. It was true, he knew. He HAD changed. Maybe he didn't deal drugs or sell stuff that fell off trucks anymore, but he was still . . . fun, wasn't he? "Whatcha mean? I still hang at the local, don't I?" he demanded indignantly.

"You do that," Paulie admitted. "But ya don't . . . I dunno . . . do crazy things anymore."

Willy considered that. He supposed it was true to Paulie's way of looking at things. "Look, Paulie, I'm not . . . I've got a job and a woman. I can't be running around getting into trouble."

"You're whipped," Paulie snapped. "You're so busy doing what she wants, you don't think about what you want."

Willy shook his head. "Nah. That ain't true."

"When's the last time you stayed out partying all night?" Paulie challenged.

"I dunno. Why?"

"We miss ya, Will," Paulie grumbled sadly. "You show up, have a beer, shoot a game and then split. Seems like you think you're . . . too good for us now."

Willy felt his face begin to flush, although he knew it wouldn't show. "I do NOT! I'm not too good for ya. But Paulie, I got a job, eh?"

"A job?" Paulie snorted. "That was her idea too!"

Willy had to admit, even if only to himself, that in a way that was also true. The garage had been Tam's idea. Just like running it legit was. Not that it was a bad thing, it was all good, but sitting there, listening to Paulie, reminded him of the old days. It HAD been fun to party all night, to drink himself sick, to hang with the blokes. He did kinda miss it. On the other hand, there was Tam. He sighed. "Life's a tradeoff," he muttered finally. "Can't have it all."

"Sure you can," Paulie insisted. "Come with me. We can have a few, shoot some stick, party."

Willy wanted to, he really did, but . . . "Can't, Paulie. Sorry."

Paulie sighed and rose from the chair. "You change your mind, you know where to find me."

Willy nodded.

John met her at a pub just up the street from her office. She strolled in looking pale and tired as if she hadn't slept. Even so, she looked lovely. When she saw him her eyes began to sparkle and she rushed to the bar to join him. She threw her arms around him as if he were the most important thing in her life and pressed against him. "I know you hate public displays," she mumbled into his neck, "but I . . ."

John held Kelly tightly, wondering what was up. It had only been a few days since he had seen her, yet . . . "Kelly," he asked softly. "What's wrong?"

"You're always asking me that," she snapped peevishly. "Aren't you getting tired of it?" She sighed. "Can't I just be glad to see you?"

He searched her eyes. "If that's the truth."

"I AM glad to see you," she insisted. "I've missed you."

He shook his head in disbelief. "You can tell me anything," he said. "If something's bothering you . . ."

She sighed again. "Nothing's bothering me. I had a bad day arguing with diamond brokers. Bottom's falling out of the market and they don't want to hear it. It was exhausting. Nothing worse than having to spend eight hours saying no to people who don't understand the word."

John laughed, as he knew she had intended him to. He touched her face gently, kissed her on the forehead and then released her. "You sound like you could use a stiff drink."

"You know I don't drink," she snorted. "Although now that you mention it," she added seductively, "I think I could use a stiff . . . something else."

John felt his face flush as he laughed. "I could maybe help you with that."

She smiled. "Let's go."

He grinned. "You sure? I thought you wanted to eat."

She grinned mischievously. "I do. I will." She began pulling at his arm. "Let's go!"

John laughed, pleased but a little puzzled by her urgency. Once they were outside the pub, she grabbed his arm and pulled him against her. She wrapped her arms around him and murmured, "I want you so much."

He bent his head and kissed her lightly. She pulled him even tighter and then kissed him so hard and so desperately the passion was almost frightening. Her body pressed against his, rubbing feverishly. He rode the kiss, the passion, feeling his own ardor inflamed.

They stood on that street for a long time kissing under the smooth yellow glow of a lamp. Finally, Kelly pulled back and whispered, "Follow me home?"

He nodded, to awestruck with the intensity of her desire to argue.

The moment they were inside her front door, she grabbed for him. She pressed against him urgent and demanding. Her mouth was hungry, her hands frenzied and her body was wild with desire. The intensity of her need threatened to overwhelm him. She yanked at his clothes, tore at her own, tried to get them naked, tried to . . . he pulled his mouth from hers. "Kelly, there's no . . ."

She put her fingers over his lips. "Shh," she murmured. "Don't talk, just . . . love me."

Her eyes seemed to be pleading with him NOT to ask questions, not to think, not to do anything but take her. There was so much emotion emanating from her, he didn't understand it, any of it, but . . . he bent his head and kissed her.

She moaned against his mouth and continued to tug at his clothes, her hands slid over his chest, down his jeans, her nails scratched over his erection.

He groaned and again pulled his mouth from hers. "The bedroom?"

She shook her head, panting. Quickly, she lifted her skirt, slid down her panties then leaned back against the door. "Here. Now."

He moaned her name and watched as she unzipped him and slid her hands inside his jeans. He was incredibly turned on despite his concerns. He helped her release his shaft and then he grasped her waist.

She put her legs up on his hips and pressed her back to the door. She reached down between them and stroked him, then guided him to her opening.

She was wet and more than ready for him. He pushed in and she arched, her arms went around his neck.

He groaned from the pressure. He began to move, trying to go slow, but she would have none of that. She wanted him hard and fast, her body rocked against him, her strong arms pulled him tight, urging him on. He could feel her mouth on his neck, kissing and biting; her nails dug into his shoulders.

He held her steady and banged her into the door, feeling her muscles clench and spasm around him. He groaned and came seconds later, his body shuddering against her.

She continued to cling to him, though she let her legs fall. She was moaning his name, an almost anguished sound, as if she couldn't quite find him.

He held her tight, feeling her tremble and shake as if the world was coming to an end. He stroked her hair, her arms, her face, trying to calm her. She was still somehow frantic. He whispered her name and then kissed her forehead. When he couldn't seem to still her trembling, he withdrew, picked her up and carried her to the sofa. He set her down, joined her and pulled her back into his arms.

She stared at him. "Guess I lost control, eh?" she panted. She tried for a light teasing tone, but the desperation was still there.

He shook his head. "Kelly," he whispered. "Talk to me."

"I love you," she mumbled. "So much that sometimes . . . John . . . I . . . shit!" She swallowed hard. "Sometimes I think the only way to show it, prove it, is to be . . . physically intimate."

He held her tightly. "You can talk to me. I won't bite."

"Maybe I want you too," she teased.

He smiled. "Kelly, whatever it is, you CAN tell me."

She shrugged. "I guess, after the other night . . . you left angry. And . . . I just don't want . . . to lose you."

"I'm not still angry. And you aren't going to lose me. Frances set me straight."

"Frances?" she paused and then asked, "Eric's teacher?"

He nodded. "Yeah. She . . . um . . . kind of read me the riot act about my behavior. She's right, too. I guess I can't expect you to obey me, eh? Not until I get you to promise to in front of a priest," he added tentatively.

She heard the long-term question and ignored it. "Obey is NOT in my lexicon," she retorted lightly. "But I'll consider any reasonable request."

"Kelly, I'm in this for the long haul. I . . ."

Once again, she put her fingers over his lips. "Not tonight, John. We only have a few hours before you have to leave. I don't want to spend them talking."

"No?"

"I'm sure you can think of better things to do with your mouth. I know I can with mine!"

John drove home slowly, his mind in a whirl. Kelly had been a wild woman, not just that first time, but the second time as well. The act of love had been lustful and impassioned, wild and frenzied her desire desperate and urgent. She couldn't get enough of his feel or touch, couldn't have enough passion or energy in their lovemaking. She didn't want gentle and tender; she wanted all his passion, wanted his need to match hers. It had been incredible and erotic, the best sex they'd had yet. He ached in a sort of vaguely pleasant way and he suspected she would be sore too. She hadn't explained her sudden wild passion, only insisted that they both give in to the exploration. He didn't really mind, but he did wonder what was going on.

Then he realized, with a shock, that as much as he loved her, as much as he knew ABOUT her, there was still so much he didn't know. This was a side to her that he had hoped existed, but . . . he had been afraid it wouldn't. With her Catholic upbringing and her religious side, he wondered if she would have inhibitions. She hadn't seemed to, but you could never tell. Still, now he knew she didn't, at least not where he was concerned. He was pleased about that, but he didn't understand what was making her passion so desperate and he wasn't sure that it was entirely healthy.

"We're gonna be late," Eric complained petulantly.

John sighed. "Sorry, but the meeting ran long. Your Mum will understand."

"She'll think we aren't coming," Eric insisted.

"I called her before I left the office. She knows. Why are you so worried anyway?"

"Just hurry," his son answered shortly.

John sighed again and increased the speed of the car. He and Eric were going to have tea with Shay. He was trying to show the boy the three of them could be a family in their own way. However, Shay had sounded distant and sad on the phone. He suspected she missed Eric.

They arrived at the café only twenty minutes late. Shay was waiting at a table, a beer in front of her. It was clear she'd made an effort to dress up and from a distance, she looked lovely. Up close, John could see the toll Eric's absence had taken.

Shay's eyes were ringed with dark purple circles as if she hadn't been sleeping and her mouth was pursed in a tight line. When her son reached her, he made a low sound like a moan of pain, then pulled her to her feet and hugged her tight.

Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. Her eyes brightened and she smiled. John smiled back and when Eric released her, he moved toward her. He hugged Shay as well. She seemed surprised at his embrace, then hugged him back. She rested against him for a long moment, then as if embarrassed, pulled away abruptly and sat down. She looked at Eric and asked, "New clothes?"

Eric and John pulled out chairs and sat as well. Eric nodded and explained, "Dad got them for me."

"Dad?" she repeated softly. She looked from Eric to his father.

"Well, he IS," Eric snorted defensively.

She smiled. "Yes, I know. I was just . . . surprised to hear you say it, that's all." She paused and again studied them both. "It's going well then?"

John let Eric answer. "It's been choice. We've been to the park, shopping, Rainbow's End twice and I met . . ." the boy paused. "It's been great."

"I'm glad," Shay conceded in a small soft voice. "It's good the two of you are . . . getting closer."

John could hear the fear in her tone. The fear that Eric would never want to leave, never want to return to their flat. "Well, you know, it's like a vacation," he contended slowly. "'Cause all we're doing is having fun. It's not like he has to be told to do his homework or such. It's not the norm now, is it?"

"Nah," Eric agreed, "but it's been real nice."

"Still," John added firmly, "eventually he'll be back."

Eric nodded. "Mum, I know this isn't . . . forever. But John, Dad, and I, this time has been, is good. On Friday we're going down to Lower Hutt so I can meet his . . . my grandmother."

Shay swallowed hard. "Eric, I don't want to force you to come home. If you want to stay with . . . your father after the holidays . . ."

"Mum," Eric acknowledged, "I DO miss you. Honest. Besides," he added, "I'm not so sure Dad wants me permanent."

John felt his face flush, because he suspected what Eric was thinking about. "That's not true," he insisted. "But I do think, in the long run, you're best off living with your Mum. After the holidays, when business picks up, I won't have so much free time. You know I travel and my hours . . . I can't be there for you the way I can now."

To his surprise, Shay began to laugh. "Listen to the two of you. Eric, you met Kelly again, didn't you? You think you're putting a spike in his love life! And John, you making excuses. Never thought I'd hear it." She studied John for a moment, her eyes almost amused. "It's no joy ride being a parent, is it?"

He shrugged. "It's not that, Shay. Really. You've done an amazing job with him. Eric is a pleasure to have around. But as you well know, my job CAN be time consuming and I do have long hours. I don't like leaving him alone."

She smiled as if she knew better. "Right," she snorted sarcastically. She looked at Eric. "Are you really okay with all of this?"

Her son nodded. "Mum, it's fun living with Dad, but he's right. It IS like a vacation. He doesn't have to do . . . I dunno . . . any of the kinds of things you have to."

"No making you do your homework or get up for school? No telling you to clean your room or stop playing with video games?" she teased with a laugh. She looked at John. "Have you been spoiling him? Living on fish and chips, pizza and soda, staying up to all hours?"

John grinned ruefully. "I'm a bloke. What do I know about any of this parenting stuff?"

She laughed. "You two are something, you are. Eric, you know when you get home I won't be putting up with that. It's back to vegetables and chores."

Eric grinned. "I know. But . . . Mum . . . it's really been good."

She could see that. See that John and Eric's bond had deepened and grown. That Eric's feelings for John had grown more in synch with John's feelings for his son. She could see the new closeness between them. To her everlasting gratitude though, Eric hadn't grown away from her, only toward his father. It had given her son a glow, a pride, a confidence that he had lacked before. "Eric, I miss you, but I'm so glad."

He smiled complete with dimples. "Mum, Dad's really okay. And he doesn't spoil me too much." He looked at John, "Well, okay, maybe he does. But it's 'cause he . . . well . . . he doesn't know how else to act."

John looked startled as he heard his son's words. He realized they were true. "When did you get so smart?" he asked.

Eric grinned. "Not smart. Davie told me all about it. His parents are divorced and whenever he visits his Dad, he gets the same. So I figured . . . you know . . . even though the two of you never married, that . . . well . . ."

John shook his head. "You're something, Eric. Shay, our son is really something, don't you think?"

She felt her eyes begin to well with tears at the phrase "our son." She nodded, her eyes filled with emotion.

Kelly was nervous. She had rushed home from work two hours early and had changed her outfit twice. She was going to have dinner with John, Willy and Willy's fiancée, Tam. She was almost more terrified of this than she had been about meeting Eric. Willy was John's best friend, but more, he was Caro's brother. She worried that he would hate her because she had taken Caro's place in John's life. She was afraid to express her concerns to John; it wasn't the kind of thing he would understand. In his mind, one thing had nothing to do with the other. Caro was dead, if she had still been alive, he'd be married to her and he'd never have met Kelly. But Kelly wasn't so sure Willy would see it that way. People had a tendency, at least in her experience, to ignore reality and focus on what they wished reality would be. She worried that Willy would have preferred John stay alone, living with Caro's memory, rather than move on with his life. Worried that he would resent her for making John happy. She fretted and changed her clothes yet again.

She knew Willy used to deal drugs and now ran a garage and that Tam raced motorcycles. They were blue-collar working class folk, different from her, more like John. Yet for all that John never seemed to see class as an issue, she knew it was there. She came from a different place than all of them. She finally settled on jeans and a peasant blouse. She again wore light makeup and only the cross, gold hoops and watch. She sighed with frustration, sure that somehow, no matter what she did, it would be wrong.

John arrived to pick her up right on time. He wore jeans, cowboy boots and a black T-shirt. His hair was loose around his face and he was grinning as if he had won the lottery.

She grinned back and asked, "How are you?"

"I have a surprise for you," he exclaimed.

"Oh yeah?" she asked as she threw her arms around him. "Dinner's been cancelled?"

He pulled back for a moment and looked at her curiously. "You don't want to go?"

She shook her head and pulled him toward her again. "It's not that. You look good enough . . . to eat. I was thinking . . ." her eyes lit with desire.

He laughed into her neck. "You're going to LOVE my surprise."

"So tell me already. Before I ravish you right here."

"Eric's spending the night at his Mum's since we're leaving tomorrow. He thought she might like to spend some time alone with him and well . . . he thought I might like to spend the night with you."

"Oh, John," she breathed. "That is a surprise. I've missed waking up in your arms. And the way you like to wake me up too," she added seductively. She ran her hands up and down his body and was delighted to feel the start of arousal. Maybe they COULD skip dinner after all.

He laughed and held her tightly for a moment. "Kelly," he murmured, "it's only a few more weeks."

"I know. I just . . . anyways, guess dinner is still on?"

He nodded. "Yes. Unless . . . don't you want to go?"

She couldn't explain it to him, so she just forced a smiled and lied, "Of course I do."

"Let's go."

She followed him out to his car, her nervousness now tempered by anticipation. She was sure, no matter what happened at dinner, that when they were alone she could make everything all right.

Willy and Tam sat at the bar in One Red Dog in Ponsonby waiting for John and Kelly. Tam surreptitiously studied her lover. Willy was chain smoking, not a good sign and he'd already downed two shots of Jack in addition to his beer. He was nervous, that much was clear, what was unclear to her was why. He hadn't said a word about it and she wondered what was bothering him. Finally, she decided to ask. "Willy, what's going on?"

He swiveled his head to look at her. She was studying him intently; her violet eyes focused on his face. She looked beautiful, loving and concerned. "Whatcha mean?" he asked evading her question.

She smiled as if she'd read his mind. "Willy, you can't fool me. I KNOW you. Something's got your knickers in a twist. So spill it."

He grinned. "You do know me."

"Yeah, I do. So . . . what's on your mind?"

He sighed. "What if she hates me?"

Tam's eyes widened and her mouth pursed. "Why would she hate you?"

He shrugged. "I dunno, but . . . she's not . . . like us, Tam. She's a . . ."

"Nice Catholic girl?" Tam teased. "Shit, Willy, so am I!"

Willy laughed. "That's not . . . she practices her religion."

"Practicing is about all you CAN do with it," Tam muttered. "'Cause actively living it is impossible."

"Tam," he insisted seriously, "you know what I mean. She's not . . . like us."

"You mean she's respectable? Middle class?" He nodded. "Willy, if she's with John, that won't matter. Besides, did it ever occur to you, that she might be worried about how you'll react to her?"

Willy's brow furrowed as he tried to work that out. "I don't get you. Why should she be?"

Tam shook her head. "You're Caro's brother. Don't you think . . . she might worry you'll hate her, 'cause . . ."

Willy's eyes widened and then he grinned ruefully. "I never thought of that. Why would you think that?"

Tam grinned. "'Cause I'm a girl, you idiot. We DO think of things like that. But Willy, are you sure that's not in there? You don't think maybe that John should have stayed alone . . . honoring Caro's memory?"

Willy considered this for a long moment. Finally, he mused, "Maybe once I did. Bloody hell, I KNOW I did. But now? She's been gone almost six months and . . . he mourned her proper. I know he still does. I know if she were still here . . . well, he'd be married to her. So . . . I don't begrudge him his happiness, especially not now."

"'Cause you have yours?" she teased.

He grinned. "Yeah. 'Cause I know how much it means to have someone who . . . anyways, I don't want him to go back to the way he was after she died. He was drinking himself to death. It's better that he have someone."

"Speaking of that, here they come. Willy, if you can, tell them that. Let John and Kelly know that you're okay with them being together, eh?"

"Tam," he complained, "you know I'm not . . . John and I, we don't . . ."

"I know. You're blokes. But, trust me, it could make all the difference."

He shook his head without agreeing and then the formal introductions were being performed. Willy had said hello to Kelly twice before in passing and each time she had looked different. This was the third look for her. Today she was casual and uncluttered. She was a lovely woman and he could see the pleasure John took in her company. Could see John's feelings for her all over his face. John gazed at Kelly with love and longing and at Willy with hopeful expectation.

Kelly looked nervous to Willy's eyes and he wondered if Tam was right. After all, Tam WAS a woman. She did know much more about her gender than he did. He grinned at Kelly and said hello.

Kelly had frozen when she'd seen Willy and the woman he was with. Tam was bloody gorgeous in a wild and unfettered way. She had an incredible figure in jeans and a short white blouse. Her long hair waved around her face and her eyes were a stunning shade of violet. Kelly was glad she was Willy's woman. She wouldn't have wanted to fight her for John.

Willy looked the same as the first two times she'd seen him, dressed all in black, his Maori features prominent. Then he grinned at her and she saw the man beneath the mask. The man John loved like a brother. She tried to swallow her fears; she smiled tentatively and said hello.

Tam thought John and Kelly made a good couple. Kelly was almost tall enough for him and she carried herself with the grace of an athlete. She had lovely green eyes and tons of freckles on her open face. Her hair was a rich shade of red and it curled softly. She was lovely in a typical Irish way and Tam would never have thought John would find her attractive. But then most of HER friends didn't understand her feelings for Willy. There was no accounting for love.

John stood there shifting his gaze back and forth among them. There were all kinds of emotional undercurrents in the air; he could feel them almost as if the words, whatever they were, were being said. He still didn't know Tam very well, but he knew she was good for Willy and that was ALL that mattered. "Shall we get a table?" John asked.

"No worries," Willy mumbled. "I've got us one. Soon as we're ready." He looked at Kelly and asked, "Fancy a drink first?"

She shook her head. "No thanks."

Willy's eyes widened. "John?"

"Not just now. Shall we get settled?"

Willy shrugged, dropped a few coins on the bar and he and Tam picked up their beers and led the other couple to a table for four in the back. They sat and Kelly had Willy on one side and John on the other, Tam was directly across from her. She felt a little dwarfed by the two men. She was used to John's size, but Willy, in his own way, was just as imposing. She smiled at him and then at Tam. "So, you two are getting married," she said to say something.

Tam looked a little embarrassed as if the topic wasn't to her liking. She nodded and then answered, "Valentine's Day."

"It's a good day to pick. Have you got a ring yet?"

Tam shook her head.

Kelly glanced at John and then back to Tam. "I don't know if John mentioned. I work for a jeweler. I can get you a good deal . . . if you want."

"How good?" Willy asked defensively.

"Well," she explained, her voice growing more confident as she was on her "home" ground. "The markup on retail is ridiculous. I can get you what you want at cost plus ten percent. It will be a significant savings."

"What's the catch?"

"No catch, Willy," John explained. "It's legal."

They all laughed. "You sure," Willy asked doubtfully. "I mean, how much are we talking about?"

"A one carat diamond bought retail is twelve to fifteen thousand depending on size and quality of the stone. If I help you, it will only cost you between five and seven thousand, maybe less."

"You're shitting me," Willy exclaimed. "Legal jewelers make that much on a sale?" Kelly nodded. Willy looked at Tam. "I think we're in the wrong business!"

Everyone laughed and the ice seemed to be broken, at least on the surface.

The conversation shifted, Willy asked about Eric. John, a blissful grin on his face, told them how it was going. Then John asked about the garage. While the two men chatted, the two women studied each other, taking their measure, looking a little like two cats in a yard. Though there was no direct competition here, each knew the other would have to share her partner with his friend. The two of them, whether they liked it or not, would have to make friends or at least not enemies of each other.

Kelly thought she could like Tam, if she could stop feeling inferior. The woman was gorgeous, smart, she raced bikes and she was obviously a daredevil without any fear. She made Kelly feel small and inadequate, although she probably didn't intend to.

At least Willy seemed okay with her. He didn't seem to resent her or at least, it wasn't apparent in his behavior. That was something. She took a deep breath and began to relax idly following the conversation, but mostly just watching John's face. She was almost enjoying herself until she heard John's comment.

"What?" she echoed dubiously.

"I said, " John repeated, "that we should double more often."

"That's not . . ." she pulled herself together. "I thought you said something else."

John HAD suggested something else, until he'd seen her face. He had jokingly referred to making it a double wedding, but the look on Kelly's face at his words had been so shocked that he'd quickly changed gears. What the bloody hell upset her so much about the thought of marrying him anyway? You'd think he was suggesting something awful instead of something good. Given her background, he thought for sure she'd want marriage. Whatever it was, he was now determined to find out.

Tam caught the thick undercurrent of fear floating off Kelly and took that moment to suggest a trip to the loo. Kelly agreed adamantly. The two women rose and went off. Willy looked at John and asked, "So mate, what's the deal? She don't like marriage?"

John shrugged. "Not a clue. Course, it's true, we haven't been together that long. Maybe she just isn't ready."

Willy eyed him speculatively. "But you are, eh?"

"I didn't think so, but with you doing it . . . it got me thinking. Maybe I am."

Willy grinned at him. "Well, you hang in there. 'Cause if you want it bad enough, you're more than capable of convincing her."

In the lady's loo, Kelly shivered in her stall, trying to get her emotions under control. Why did John have to keep bringing up the future? Marriage! She didn't want to think about it, didn't want to deal with it. Couldn't he just be happy with the present? She sighed, flushed the toilet and then straightening her clothes exited the stall.

Tam was waiting patiently beside the sink. She liked Kelly, but wondered just what was going on with her. "I don't know John well," Tam observed, "but you know, he doesn't say things he doesn't mean. If you're thinking he's all talk and that he isn't serious, you'd be wrong."

Kelly looked at her. "Tam, I . . . appreciate what you're trying to do here. But honestly, I'm not thinking he's . . . toying with my emotions. That's not it. I KNOW he's serious."

"You don't want to get married?"

"Well, for one thing," Kelly snapped, "he's never actually asked me. He's just referred to it in passing twice now. For another thing, I don't know you nearly well enough to talk about this."

Tam stared at her. "Maybe not, but even I can see how upset you are. So can he and it bothers him a lot. Maybe I have no business butting in, but I know him well enough to know he's not going to leave it alone. So either get yourself under control or tell him whatever it is. 'Cause he won't let it go. He's a pit bull when it comes to the people around him. Just ask Willy."

Kelly smiled wanly. "Too true. Tam, I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to ruin dinner. And I didn't mean to snap, it's just . . . John's too damn . . ." she sighed. "He's bloody perfect and I'm not."

Tam laughed. "Willy says that about him too. But you know, John's NOT perfect. He'd be the first to admit it. Insist on it actually. He doesn't see himself the same way we do. But I know this; you can talk to him. He's the most loyal bloke I've ever met. What he and Willy have gone through together, well . . . they are brothers even if not of blood. Whatever's bothering you, he's sure to handle it."

Kelly studied her. She seemed sincere, even confident, that her assessment of John was accurate. Still, Tam didn't know John in quite the same way Kelly did. Finally, Kelly remarked, "Thanks, Tam. I'm happy for you and Willy. And I'm really serious about the ring, too." She dug in her pocket. "Here's my card. Call me whenever you're ready."

Tam accepted the card and the end of the conversation. "You want to wipe that little bit of mascara off from under your eye, then we can go back."

Kelly glanced in the mirror, grinned at Tam and fixed her makeup. When they returned to the table, the blokes had paid the check. John rose and asked, "Ready?"

Kelly nodded, thankful that she would be spared making conversation again. John didn't say much as they left, nor on the drive to her house. "Do you still want me to come in?" he asked as he parked in front.

She gasped. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"I dunno," he mumbled sadly, "but . . . Kelly, I . . ."

"John," she apologized, "I'm sorry. I . . . please, come in and spend the night as we planned. I want to be with you."

"Do you?" he echoed. "Do you really?"

She undid her seatbelt and shifted over. She took his face in her hands and stared into his eyes. "I love you, John. That's NOT what this is about."

"Then what is it about?"

"Come inside and I'll try to explain," she muttered uncomfortably.

He nodded, turned the car off and allowed himself to be led into her house. She settled on the couch and gestured for him to join her. He did so, but he kept a distance between them. "Kelly, I know something's wrong. I don't know what it is, but whatever it is, just tell me."

She sighed. "John, you don't joke about marriage to a Catholic girl. Not ever."

"Is that what this is about? You think I'm . . . playing you?"

She shook her head, "I don't know. But I DO know you've mentioned it twice, as a joke, it seemed. I don't know if you're serious or not, but truthfully, it bothers me. Marriage is a VERY big thing . . . and as much as I love you, as much as I want to be with you . . . I am NOT ready for that step. If and when I ever do get married, it's going to be for life."

John gaped at her, his mouth open and his eyes wide. It had never occurred to him that she might think he was running a game on her. "Kelly, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make light of what is clearly a serious issue for you. I think I do want to spend the rest of my life with you and I assumed you felt the same. That somehow you'd know I was, AM serious."

Well that was no help at all. She sighed inwardly. "John, I do love you, but . . . everything is just so new between us and there's been so much going on around us too. We haven't really had time to get to know each other. I mean sexually, we know each other well, but there's so much else involved. I don't want us to make a mistake, to jump into something before we're ready. Marriage is just . . ."

He shook his head. "My expectations again. Because I want it, because I'm ready to think about it, I just expected you to be too." He swallowed. "I'm sorry, Kel. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Just dial it down, eh? Enjoy what we have, this lovely now. We have plenty of time to decide the future, although," she continued with an oddly bitter laugh, "I've generally found that the future decides itself."

He studied her face. She was clearly still upset, but . . . "Is there anything else?'

"Anything else?" she repeated.

"Anything else I've done that bothered you? Scared you?"

"John, you're wonderful. I adore you. You're perfect."

"Don't do that," he muttered.

"What?"

"Change the subject. I know something has been on your mind. Maybe it was only this, but . . ."

She sighed again, audibly this time. "See, this is part of the not knowing each other well. For all we know about each other, it takes time to learn what moods and such mean. You're reading too much into my personality. You've been riding an emotional roller coaster ever since we met. You need to relax and not think so much."

He pondered her words before adding, "Frances says I think too much."

"Frances," Kelly agreed as she inched over on the couch, "is right. Now stop thinking and play with me."

He smiled uncertainly. "Play?"

"We haven't spent a night together in a week and a half. I have tons of playfulness to act out."

He grinned, still unsure if the problem was resolved. "Kelly," he began.

"John," she snapped, "just be quiet. Or use your mouth for something else. I'm going to be using mine." Then she was on him, unzipping his jeans and sliding her hand inside to caress him. Once again, her passion was wild and unrestrained. She slid him out of his jeans and bent her head, going down on him with reckless abandon. She kissed and licked, nibbled and sucked until he was moaning and thrusting at her face. She was relentless, going after him with a hunger and need, teasing him into a frenzy. His orgasm, when it happened, struck with ferocity, a growl started deep in his belly, he gripped her face and plunged down her throat, shooting his seed deeply inside her mouth.

She swallowed and kept sucking, as if she could do it forever. The sight of her silken hair spread in his lap, of her emerald eyes watching him, of her luscious mouth surrounding his cock was at once erotic and beautiful, yet the intensity of her passion was also oddly frightening.

As he shuddered on the sofa, she continued to keep him in her warm wet mouth, continued to dance her tongue on his soft organ, continued to suck until it almost hurt. He loved that she loved it, but . . ."Kelly," he muttered finally, "leave off, eh?"

She released him immediately. She raised her face, her eyes dimmed and she looked a little puzzled. "You don't . . . like it?" she asked hesitantly.

"I love it," he assured her. "But . . . come here."

He pulled her up to straddle his lap. He traced the planes of her face, his fingers sliding over the creamy soft skin. Her eyes were still puzzled. "I've always been one for equal time," he explained as his hands trailed down to caress her shoulders and arms. "Can't let you have all the fun."

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. She lay her head against his shoulder and nestled against him. "I want you to be happy," she mumbled.

"I am happy. You make me happy."

"Do I? Do I really?"

"How can you even ask that?"

She raised her face. "John, I . . . I'm not perfect."

"Kelly, I love you. There isn't anything about you that could make me change my feelings."

"No?" she mused softly. "What if you found out something. Something bad about me. Something I hadn't told you, had kept from you. Would you still love me then?"

"Kelly, I did a thorough investigation of your life when I worked for Kyle. I know everything from the day you were born until the day I stopped working the case. What could you possibly have done?"

"I never SAID I did anything. But, John, you don't know everything. You couldn't. I did have a life, men; maybe I've done some awful things. Things I'm ashamed of."

"Kelly, are you saying . . . what are you saying?"

"I'm not saying anything, just wondering I guess, how unwavering you are in your devotion."

"Unwavering in my devotion?" he repeated with a soft laugh. "I like that. Let's make a deal, you don't try to hide your feelings or fears from me and I'll try not to . . . waver in my devotion."

She pulled her face from his shoulder and gazed into his eyes. They were lovely dark pools, so full of love, that under normal circumstances, she knew she'd be a fool to doubt him. She touched his face, running her fingers over his lips. They felt like satin against her skin.

He flicked his tongue out and teased her fingertips. She sighed and continued to gaze at him, the longing naked in her eyes.

He captured her face and began to kiss her gently; his lips rubbed softly against hers as his arms encircled her. She melted against him, warm and loving, her body responding to his. He held her close, feeling the passion and that same sense of urgency and desperation he'd felt before. Whatever Kelly said, he knew somehow that there was more. Her emotions were as volatile as she had accused his of being. Maybe it was only that she didn't completely trust their relationship, trust him yet. Or maybe there was something she was hiding, something she thought was so awful he'd never want to see her again.

He pulled back from the kiss. "Kelly, I love you. If there IS something you think I should know, something that you think might make me think less of you, tell me. I swear, there's nothing you could ever have done that will change the way I feel."

"It's not like that," she mumbled. "I haven't done anything. John, there's been enough soul baring for one night. I love you, but sometimes . . ."

He grinned. "I've heard that before." He stroked her face. "Just be patient with me, eh?"

"I think that's supposed to be my line. God knows, I made you wait long enough to have me. Now I can't get you to shut up and take me."

He smiled and was about to say something else when she silenced him with a searing kiss, her mouth once again hungry and demanding, her tongue teasing and her hands moving over his body, lightly touching every part of him.

He tried to slow her down, not to reign in the passion, but to give him an opportunity to match it. Again, she refused to relinquish control. She slid off his lap and stripped off her clothes. Then she knelt on the floor and removed his boots. She tugged on his jeans until she got them off and then she climbed back on his lap.

She rubbed her sex against him until he could feel her juices wetting and hardening him. He bent his head and nuzzled her breasts as her hand slid under his T-shirt. "Let me get it off," he muttered.

She giggled and ran her nails over his belly. "I like getting you off," she retorted.

He laughed and pulled the shirt off. She immediately bent her head to his nipples and began to suck. He found her breasts and began to caress them, thumbing her already hard nipples.

She moaned, bit him and rubbed her sex harder against him.

He could feel her juices dripping from her. He slid a hand down and teased her nether lips. She moaned his name and shifted her hips, raising herself to allow entry.

He wasn't quite ready for that, so he slid two fingers in and began to move them rhythmically. She rubbed against his hand as she continued to lick his nipples.

He rotated his hand and began to rub her clit, she came with a groan, and the liquid flowed out, hot and wet. He pulled his fingers out and stroked himself once. He raised her hips higher and then rubbed the head of his cock against her.

She groaned and reached down, her hand joining his, holding him just outside her opening. He grinned at her and then pulled her up with one arm and impaled her on his shaft.

She groaned as she felt him move inside her, filling her, completing her in a way she'd never thought possible.

As soon as he was sheathed in her warmth, he grabbed her waist and pulled her tightly to him. He bent his head and took a nipple into his mouth. He felt her muscles spasm around him and then he rocked her back and forth on his lap as he sucked.

Her body began to come around him. Over and over, her juices hit his shaft as he rocked her. Her muscles clenched in an almost constant rhythm as he rubbed against her clit. The friction was like an impending explosion, the intensity building.

He released her nipple and held her still for a moment, then he whispered, "Now."

Kelly began to move up and down on him, her body was one giant itch, and she ground herself into his pelvis as she felt him thrust up. The power of his movements was increasing, the intensity of the pleasure overwhelming. She was moaning, wordless pleas for more, then suddenly she stopped.

"What?" he panted.

She looked at him, her eyes full of lust. "I have an idea."

"Now?" he asked.

She nodded. She slipped off him, his erection slipped out, red and throbbing. She studied him mischievously for a moment, and then she pushed the coffee table away and with her back to him, got back on his lap. She raised her hips, reached for his shaft and again rubbed it against her opening. He groaned from behind her. His arms encircled her waist then rose up to grope her breasts.

She slid down on him, trapping him in her warm wetness and then began to bounce on his lap. His hands began to squeeze her breasts as he pressed against her. His mouth moved to her neck, he began to kiss and suck the delicate skin as she rode him. She moved harder and faster, her firm butt rubbing against his pelvis, sending jolts of electricity through his balls as she squeezed him tight.

He tweaked her nipples and heard her groan, then she ground herself into him, and her body began to shudder and shake, her inner walls clenched and squeezed him so hard, he howled and let loose with his own climax.

He gripped her tight as he trembled against her back; he could feel his cock exploding inside her, sending a huge stream of sperm deep into her womb. She shook on him, her body seeming to experience tremor after tremor. Her chest was heaving and her breathing was loud and raspy. It seemed to take forever for them to stop shaking, but when Kelly finally calmed, she leaned back again him and turned her head to smile. "Much better than talking, eh?"

That Friday morning John drove home in a daze. Kelly was the most confusing woman he had ever known. For a woman who had been afraid all he wanted was sex, she was extraordinarily into it herself. Despite her Catholic upbringing, her belief in her religion, her stance on marriage, she was uncommonly adept at sexual activities. She treated the act of sex, of love, as a game, like a wild amusement ride, her seriousness about it vanished as soon as her clothes. It was wonderful and as erotic as all get out, but it made no sense to him. Well, maybe it was the mystery unsolved that made him love her. He didn't know and if he spent much more time thinking about it, he'd crash his car.

He ran into his house, picked up his bag and rang his Mum. He reminded her that he was on his way down for a few days and that he was bringing Eric with him. She sounded excited, but still a bit upset. When he'd gone down before Eric moved in, to tell her about him in person, she'd chucked a fit. Then after she'd calmed down, she'd said she'd like to meet her grandson. He'd warned her that she had to behave, he wasn't going to let Eric suffer from any of her alcoholic shenanigans. She'd taken offense at that, but finally had agreed to watch it while he was there. If that was the price, then she was willing to pay it.

John drove to Shay's to pick up Eric. His son was waiting in front of the building, his bag by his side. Once he was in the car, John said hesitantly, "I thought I'd find you in the flat."

"I . . . um . . ."

"Did you two have a fight?"

"No. She just . . . Mum didn't want to see you."

John said nothing. There was nothing TO say. "I'm sorry," he apologized finally.

Eric stared out the window. "Mum needs . . . she needs an interest."

John was quiet for a long time as they took the motorway out of Auckland. Finally, he asked, "Do you . . . blame me?"

"It's not your fault. I wish the two of you . . . were together, because it's what she wants. But you can't help how you feel. All the same . . ."

"You're a good son, Eric. To your Mum, I mean. When I was younger than you, I used to try to take care of my Mum too. I'd to rush home from school, didn't do sports or anything. It didn't really help. Shay, she does need some interests. Not just 'cause of . . . me . . . but because you're beginning to get on with your life. I know she's always worked, but well, she could use a . . . hobby, maybe."

"She needs a bloke," Eric snapped. "She's been alone too long."

"There wasn't one, not even after Phil left?"

"No," Eric snorted. "Least not that I knew about. I think . . . maybe . . ."

"It's not your fault either," John insisted, reading his son's thoughts. "She didn't stop dating because of you."

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure. Your Mum is a smart lovely woman. If she'd met someone she liked, I'm sure she would have gone out with him. Probably she just didn't meet the right bloke."

"Or met him, but . . ."

John sighed. "Eric, life sucks sometimes. People don't love who they should or they love people who are bad for them. People's feelings change, they divorce, sometimes they even die. It's hard to find someone to spend your life with. That's why, sometimes, when people love, they can't let go."

"You didn't seem to have that problem."

"Well, if you're talking about your Mum, I never loved her," he said bluntly. "If we're talking about Kelly, well, let me tell you, that's not a garden of roses either. It takes work to make a relationship work. Even when you ARE in love."

"You two have a fight?"

"No. But, Eric, just 'cause you're with someone, love someone, doesn't automatically make things right. I was married and I loved Marla, but that didn't stop us from having problems or divorcing."

"Did you stop loving her? Your ex?"

John thought for a long moment before he answered. "I married Marla at a time in my life when I was another person. For all that I was in my 20's, I was still very immature. Marla was also young. As the marriage progressed, as we grew older, what we wanted and who we were changed. By the time we divorced, I think neither of us loved the person we had become, but in some way, I think we'll always love the person we married. It's sad because you always hope, when you fall in love, that it will last forever."

"So you're saying it doesn't? That love can just . . . go away one day?"

"Romantic love, between a man and a woman, yes, I guess that IS what I'm saying. But, Eric, romantic love is NOT like the kind of love you share with your family. What I feel for you, that's always going to be there. I'll never stop loving you."

"How do you know?"

"'Cause romantic love has as much to do with sex as it does anything else. Sex can do things to your mind, play all kinds of tricks on you. It can blind you to things. But the other kind of love, that's more substantial, more real in a way. That kind of love doesn't blind you to things, it opens the doors to them."

"Whatcha mean?"

"Well, take you and me. I think you're great and I love you, but I still see your . . . faults. Like that you don't apply your mind to your schoolwork and you get angry too easily. Still, I see them and love you anyway. Then I try to help you fix those things."

"I get it," Eric muttered. "But if I was your girlfriend or something?"

"Well, women have been known to use sex to . . . shall we say, blind a bloke to their faults. A mate of mine once fell in love. Now this bloke, he was truly brilliant, he had an incredible mind, but the girl was a looker and she kept him dangling with a promise, if you know what I mean. Anyways, we all knew he was headed for a fall, but he couldn't see it. So when it finally happened, we were sorry, but not surprised."

"What happened to him?

"Well, he learned his lesson, fell for a smart girl, married her and they have two kids."

Eric laughed. "So . . . you're saying to think with my brain and not with my . . ."

John laughed. "You'll get in less trouble that way, that's for sure."

"Dad, how old were you when you . . . did it?" Eric asked awkwardly.

John nearly crashed the car at the question. "Oh god," he muttered. "That was so long ago. I'm 33, ya know. The memory's the first thing that goes."

"Sorry. Didn't mean to put you on the spot, but . . . I'm . . ."

"Curious. Yes, I suppose you are. And it's NOT something you can ask your Mum about."

"It's not," Eric agreed.

"Well, let me think for a bit, eh?" Finally after twenty miles, John explained, "I believe I was seventeen."

"Were you in love?"

Oh Christ, he KNEW he wasn't, but the last thing he wanted was to encourage his son to have casual sex. "Well, truthfully, no. But Eric, that doesn't mean . . . I'm not going to sit here and preach to you, I can't 'cause we both know I'm no saint. Still, I WAS responsible about it, used a condom and such. And she was willing and I never lied to her, never told her I loved her, which some blokes do, to get it, you know? I'd like to tell you to wait until you're in love, maybe even married, but you're a healthy kid and probably you won't. So just promise me you'll think over the consequences real careful, you'll use protection and you won't lie to her." He paused and then added, "You aren't thinking about . . . Linda, are you? 'Cause really, Eric, at your age, neither of you are equipped to deal with the consequences."

Eric sighed. "No, I wasn't thinking about . . . well, I mean, I AM thinking about it, but not really about doing it for real. Linda isn't . . . she's not that kind of girl."

"She's a nice girl, you mean?" John suggested knowingly. "Not a . . . fast one?"

Eric laughed. "Yes, I guess that's what I mean. Anyway, Dad, I promise. I'll do like you ask. It makes sense now anyway."

"It always makes sense before lust kicks in," John muttered. "Try not to get into situations that can get out of control."

"Like what?'

"Like being alone with her in a place where there are no adults. Places or situations where kissing can lead to other things and there's no one around to stop it."

"You mean like having her over to your house when you aren't there?" Eric asked mischievously.

"Yeah, like that!" John exclaimed. "Eric, you haven't . . ." he glanced at his son and saw the smile. He breathed a sigh of relief and asked, "You were having me on, weren't you?"

Eric grinned. "Yeah, I was. I wouldn't do that. Like I said, She's a nice girl and nice girls don’t . . . lead you to think they want that."

John thought about that. He realized with a shock that this was the key to his confusion about Kelly. He had decided that she was a nice girl. Only nice girls didn't behave in the sexual ways she did. Nice girls didn't suck cock like a wild animal, didn't know all those positions and didn't claw you like an untamed cat when they came. Nice girls didn't know the words or phrases that sometimes came out of her mouth either. He shook his head. Once again he'd made an assumption. Kelly obviously believed that she could still be lady, even if she behaved unladylike in the bedroom.

John was lost in his thoughts, rearranging everything about Kelly in light of this epiphany, when Eric exclaimed, "You'll miss the exit."

John didn't, but after he got off the motorway apologized. "Sorry. Got lost there for a bit."

"I noticed. Was it something I said?"

John laughed. "Yeah, in a way. We're almost there. You ready?"

Eric sighed. "What if she hates me?"

"She isn't going to hate you."

"How can you be sure?"

"'Cause I love you. And my Mum, well she's dying to meetcha. She's prepared to spoil you even more than I do."

Eric laughed, as he knew his Dad had intended. All the same . . . "Seriously. How do you know she won't hate me?"

"'Cause I know. She's your grandmother."

"It's not what . . . Mum's parents do."

"Eric, I'm sure your other grandparents love you too. Maybe they're confusing their anger at your Mum with their feelings for you. Adults aren't always very adult."

"You are!"

John laughed as he pulled in front of the bungalow. "I'm not. Trust me. You'll find me out one day."

After John parked, he was astonished at the way the place looked. The front lawn was mowed. The footpath had been swept and the outside of the house, at least, looked good.

"Dad, I . . ."

"You don't need to be afraid," John suggested slowly. "Mum is much less scary than a first date."

Eric smiled wanly. "I'm not scared," he muttered.

"Okay then, shall we get this over with?"

"Like the dentist?"

John laughed. "Yeah, like that."

John got out. He seized their bags from the boot and gestured for Eric to go forward. His son looked uncertain and awkward. Much less confident than he had become in the last month. Eric stopped when he reached the front door, his hand paused in mid-air as if he was going to knock, but was afraid to.

John stepped up to the front porch, dropped the bags and knocked. Eric dropped his arm, but he still seemed nervous. He shifted on the balls of his feet, like a restless boxer.

Jennifer Lawless pulled open the door. She saw her son first, looking as he always did. Strong, determined, his hair too long and his handsome face wearing a tentative smile as if didn't quite know what to expect. His eyes were hopeful. She knew he wanted a miracle. Well, his son had been HIS miracle and maybe now, the boy would be hers as well.

She turned to study her grandson and sucked in her breath. He looked like a younger edition of her John, tall, strong, dark hair and eyes. He was standing there looking unsure and so young. His face had an open innocence that she didn't think John's had ever had. She smiled and asked, "So does a new relative get a hug?"

Eric smiled complete with dimples and moved toward her. Jennifer opened her arms and her heart to the boy. She gathered him in and hugged him tight. Eric hugged her back, his face wreathed in a smile as he towered over her.

John grinned at them and waited. Jennifer pulled back first and then turned to her son.

"Mum," John murmured. He studied her with pleasure. Her hair was fixed, her eyes were clear, her clothes crisp and pressed. He opened his arms and said, "My turn."

Jennifer went to her son and hugged him as she had her grandson. John held her tightly and smiled at his son over her head. Finally she pulled away and John could see the tears in her eyes. He reached out and touched her face, gently brushing a single tear away. "None of that, now," he chided softly.

She smiled at him, turned to include Eric and declared, "I'm glad you two are here." She reached for boy and man, linked her arms through theirs and dragged them into the house.

John's eyes widened at the sight. The lounge was clean. No dirty dishes, no bottles, no overflowing ashtrays and no piles of magazines or newspapers. She'd even dusted. The room sparkled in a way it hadn't since he was a kid. She told John to take the bags to his old room and led Eric to the sofa. She gestured for the teen to sit next to her.

When John returned his Mum and son were chatting like old friends, his Mum's blue eyes alight with interest. Eric was relaxed and blooming. John smiled and wandered from the lounge to the kitchen, loath to interrupt their moment. The kitchen was as spotless as the rest of the house. He opened the fridge, saw beer and grabbed for one automatically. When he realized what he had done, he put it back. Then he strolled back to the lounge.

His Mum jumped up at his entry. "Bet you two are hungry. How do tea and sandwiches sound?"

"You don't need to go to any trouble on my account," Eric replied.

"No trouble. They're already made. I'll just be a tick, putting on the kettle." She scooted from the room.

John looked at his son. Eric was lounging on the sofa looking relaxed. He grinned and asked, "Better than the dentist, eh?"

Eric grinned back. "She's cool."

John shook his head. Not a word he would have chosen to describe his Mum.

The weekend passed quickly and pleasantly. Eric and his Mum got along like a house afire; the three of them talked and wandered around Lower Hutt. Shay had moved around so much after Phil had left that Eric had no sense of where his parents were from. He had no sense of the kind of place Lower Hutt was or how truly working class his roots were. John took Eric to visit the cemetery where his father and grandmother were buried. He showed Eric his great Nana's grave and told him about her. He also showed him his father's grave and finally, Mick Sullivan's grave. While trying to give his son some perspective on the past and his roots, he also tried to make sense of it himself. The mystery of his father's death teased at his consciousness.

Eric soaked it all up and seemed hungry for more. He basked in the loving attention of his Nana, her love for the boy, unconditional and adoring gave them both a glow. The only thing that would have made John happier was if Kelly had been there. Then he could have had the family he wanted. Still, he was sure that someday, he and Kelly would be back, with their own children.

He wanted that, he realized, wanted to marry Kelly and have a passel of kids. Funny, after Caro died, he thought he'd never love again, never take that risk. Then he'd learned about Eric, met Kelly and the world was ripe with wonderful possibilities. The kind of future that after Marla and Caro he no longer anticipated for himself.

As he sat over a final cup of tea with his Mum, he acknowledged, "Thanks."

She looked at him oddly. "For what?"

"For everything. You've been . . . amazing."

She studied him. "I've been sober," she announced softly. "For about a week now."

"The beer?"

"I bought it for you. But you never . . . touched it."

"I didn't want . . . are you gonna . . ."

"I'm taking meetings. I'm gonna try."

"Want me to take the beer?"

She shook her head. "No. I'll give it to Joe next door. I owe him more than a few."

John smiled. "The thanks wasn't only for that, Mum. It was 'cause, Eric, he . . . you made him feel . . . loved."

"Like you do. He's special, he is. Treasure it and him."

"I will. I do. Mum, I think I want to get married again."

"Kelly?" He nodded. "Have you asked her?"

He shook his head. "Not really. I joked about it and she got mad. I tried to tell her I was serious, but it seemed to scare her."

"John," his Mum directed sternly, "give the girl a bit of time. You've only been with her for a short bit and already she's been through fourteen different kinds of hell 'cause of it. She's probably not even over that death. And here you are, asking her to commit herself to ya. It's lovely that YOU feel that way, but . . ."

He sighed. "I'm such a . . ."

"A bloke?" his Mum teased. "You're actually a very nice bloke, but you don't always think things through. Let Kelly get used to you, to your life. Then see where you are. If she wants marriage, she'll let you know."

John rose from the table, kissed her on the forehead and acknowledged, "You're a wise woman, you are. You ever considered moving up to Auckland? You'd be closer to me and Eric."

Jennifer's eyes opened very wide. "You issuing an invitation?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. Think on it, eh?"

She nodded. "I will."

Willy was buried under a mountain of paper. The accountant had asked him to go over the receipts for the last month. Something was off in the daily figures. Willy had been over and over the cash sheets and still hadn't been able to find it. He was frustrated, but more, he felt stupid because he knew he was going to have to ask Tam to help him. He hated that she understood this side of the business and he didn't.

He was great with the customers, the suppliers, the mechanics, but when it came to finance, he was hopeless. He understood money in a barter and exchange manner, but . . . books? Balancing them? He'd never had even so much as a savings account before he'd met Tam. Now he had company checking accounts and company credit cards. He never used the credit cards though, not trusting himself to stay out of debt. He was still a cash kind of bloke. But he had to admit, credit was tempting, especially because he wanted to get Tam the flashest ring possible.

Tam had given him Kelly's card and suggested he pick out whatever he wanted to give her and surprise her at the wedding. She seemed to trust him implicitly. That was still a wonder and a mystery to him. Tam was so many things he wasn't, book smart, confident, good with money, and yet, she loved him passionately, of that he had no doubt. They were a good match and that completely astonished him. He blessed the day she wandered into the local and found him.

"Whatcha doing? Making decorations?" she asked from the doorway. Willy looked absolutely adorable draped in reams of adding machine tape.

He grinned and then grimaced. "Just trying to make sense of this," he muttered uncomfortably.

She took a few steps into the office. "I'm sure you don't need my help, but I'd be happy to come over there and . . . uncover you!"

"Uncover me?" he echoed uncertainly.

"You look edible at the moment. How about I help you finish this, quick-like and then we can go home?"

"I dunno," he mumbled doubtfully. "You probably have stuff to do."

She strode across the room, pulled out his chair and straddled his lap. "Nothing more important than making love to you. So if I can make the work get done quicker, than I can HAVE you quicker."

Willy grinned. He suspected he was being "handled" but one of the things he loved about Tam was the way she did it. She never made him feel stupid or inept. She always made him feel okay about taking her help. "Well, if you're really sure . . ."

She smiled, kissed his forehead and then turned toward the papers. "We'll get this done in a jiffy."

Kelly noticed John and Eric the second she walked into the gym. They were using the big bag and John was holding it for his son. Eric was punching away, using his arms in a solid rhythm. He looked good and she could see the pride in John's face as he watched him.

She sauntered over and waited until they became aware of her. Eric spotted her first. His eyes looked her over with an expression of surprise and then a little lust crept into them, which made him look amazingly like his father. She smiled and nodded. John turned his head and the bag hit him, knocking him on his ass.

Kelly began to laugh. It was SO reminiscent of their first meeting that she couldn't help it. John looked shocked for a moment and then laughed too. Then he sat on his ass, as if waiting for something. Finally, Kelly offered her hand and helped pull him to his feet.

"Hi," he murmured.

"Hi," she replied.

"You just starting?"

She nodded.

"We’re about half through, but we could take a steam and wait for you. Then maybe, the three of us could have a feed?"

Kelly swallowed hard. The hope in John's eyes was breathtaking. The desire for her to be not only with him, but with his son as well was oozing from him. "I'd love that," she managed finally. "I'll make it quick."

"You can have the bag. I think Dad's had enough," Eric added mischievously.

John playfully punched Eric on the arm. Eric grinned at them both and moved over to the speedball.

"Want me to hold?" John asked.

She smiled. "Sure, but . . . I had a tough day. I need to deal with some serious aggression."

"Punch away."

She did, putting all her emotions into her jabs and punches. She wailed on the bag, hard and fast, until her arms ached and the sweat poured down her face. Until she was breathing rapidly and her legs felt like jelly. She was totally focused body and mind on what she was doing and she poured everything into that workout. When she was done, twenty minutes later, she nearly collapsed from exhaustion.

She stopped punching. John was staring at her with shock and concern. His eyes were wide and his brow was furrowed as if he was trying to work out some great problem. He watched as she wiped her dripping forehead on her sleeve. He was still holding the bag and staring at her.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He shook his head and then asked, "Do you go at it like that often?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes. This is how I cope with stress. I hit the bloody piss out of something. It helps."

"What's got you stressed out?" he asked softly. He released the bag and moved closer to her.

"Job stuff. Thought you knew that's why I do this," she lied. Well, it was only half a lie. With the bloody economy crashing down around their ears, business WAS becoming a constant battle; still she knew there was more. She sighed and then began to tug off her gloves.

"Kelly, I've never seen you so . . . angry," he muttered.

She laughed. "And you never will as long as I do this. How else could I have such a sunny disposition all the rest of the time?"

"You get it all out when you . . . work the bag?"

"Well," she admitted, "sometimes I need to have a go at the speedball too, but yeah, I pretty much do. It's cheaper than therapy."

"What do you think about when you're hitting?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. Where my feet are, how my arms are moving, how good it feels to hit something that can't hit me back."

"Hit something that can't hit you back?" he repeated. He paused and noticed Eric had inched closer to listen. He turned to his son and instructed, "Eric, why don't you go to the steam room? I'll help Kelly do a little lifting and then we'll all shower and go eat."

Eric nodded and left.

"Kelly," John asked, "were you . . . did you . . ."

She studied him for a moment as if she didn't understand the question and then she got it. "John, are you asking if I was physically abused by someone?" He nodded. She shook her head. "No. Da's a prick when he drinks, but he never hit me or anyone else. I just meant I liked the feel of hitting something, knowing I couldn't hurt it and it couldn't hurt me."

"Do you . . . think about anyone when you . . ."

She gawked at him. "John, spit it out. I'm hot, tired and I need to get moving or else my muscles will knot up on me."

"When I first started boxing," he explained, "I was angry all the time. I used to workout like that, wail on the bag for hours. All the time I was beating someone up, all the time I was fighting them or myself. I was very unhappy. I guess, I was just wondering if maybe . . ."

She laughed. "John, I swear I am NOT wailing on you or anyone else. I take out my frustrations and my stress on the bag. Period. There isn't any more to it than that."

John wasn't sure if he believed her, but for the moment, he let it go. "You ready for some free weights?' he asked.

She breathed an inward sigh and nodded. While she hadn't exactly lied to him, she hadn't told him the complete truth either. Still, she doubted very much if he'd understand if she explained. She wasn't even sure she understood it. The jealousy was like a poison in her system. A poison she couldn't expel or find an antidote for. It ate at her and ate at her until she thought her insides would come out. The only way she could control it was to box it out. And even that was becoming less and less effective.

She followed John to the bench press and let him chose her weights. Twenty minutes later they were done. They agreed to meet in the lobby after their showers.

Kelly stayed under the hot water in the lady's locker until she rubbed her skin raw. How was she going to get through this?

Dinner was fine despite Kelly's fears. John and Eric were full of enthusiasm about their trip. Kelly asked questions, urging them to talk and they were happy to oblige. She loved the way John's face lit up at how well things had gone and about the progress his Mum had made. He was proud of her for finally taking control of her life. And when he mentioned that he was considering moving her to Auckland, he seemed happy about that. She was pleased for him, but she could see the pitfalls.

When the meal was done, John walked her to her car. "We still on for tomorrow?" he asked.

"Course we are. You'll come for dinner?"

"If you'll have me, I'll be happy to . . . come," he teased.

"Flirt," she teased right back. Then she threw her arms around his waist and hugged him. "I've missed you," she whispered into his neck.

He held her close and stroked her hair. "Kelly, I've been thinking about things. I don't mean to rush you into anything. I just . . . I've never been as happy or as sure of anything or anyone as I am with you. It's such a wonderful amazing feeling that I get carried away. I feel like if I don't grab you now, you'll slip away. And I worry that somehow you'll . . ."

"Die, like Caro did," she whispered softly.

His eyes widened. "I hadn't thought . . . but maybe there is that. I don't want to scare you away, you take all the time you need, eh?"

"John," she murmured his name like a prayer. Why did he have to say ALL these wonderful things? The kinds of things every woman waited her entire life to hear. Bloody hell, what was she going to do? "John, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I swear, oh bloody hell, now you've gone all sentimental on me and I'm about to get all mushy back. I just hate that!" She raised her face; her eyes bright with unshed tears. "Just give me a kiss and bring all that love over tomorrow."

He smiled full out and kissed her forehead. "Done." He touched her cheek lightly and then tilted her chin. He brushed his lips lightly over hers and then held her tightly against him. She smelled of sugar and vanilla. "You smell like biscuits," he muttered.

"You like it?"

"Reminds me of baking. Makes me feel all . . . warm and safe."

"That's how I usually feel when you hold me," she confessed.

"I make you feel warm and safe?"

She nodded. "And very loved. John, I . . ."

He touched her face again and smiled, then he released her. He stood watching until she drove away and then he went to rejoin his son.

"Betcha wish you went with her," Eric teased.

John shrugged. "I'll see her tomorrow night. Besides, you go home soon and . . . Kelly will still be there."

"Thanks, Dad. I like watching the two of you together. She's very . . . special. Although, I never saw a girl punch a bag like she can. She punches hard as a bloke."

"She's been doing it a long time."

"Still . . . she looked really mad when she was doing it too. Like she . . . I dunno . . . wanted to hit someone. Was she upset? She didn't seem so, but I don't know her that well."

John tried to reassure his son. "She's fine. Honestly. Had a long tough day at work, that's all. Adults have lots of stress in their lives, being a grownup often means you have to do things you'd rather not do. Sometimes we get mad. Lots of times there isn't anything you can do about it, so physical activity is a good way to handle it."

"You mean like how Mum gets pissed off at her boss when he asks her to do something stupid? She doesn't hit things though. She usually comes home, complains and then eats candy."

John laughed. "That's exactly what I mean. Lots of women seem to find the answer in chocolate. Kelly likes to workout; it's her way of letting off steam, of handling the frustration. In kinda the same way I've been teaching you to handle your anger."

"Does it work?"

"You tell me," John challenged. "Do you get less angry these days?"

Eric thought for a long time and then he remarked, "Yeah, it does work. I am less angry. I have been for a while. And I was even before . . . you know. So yeah, it works. Guess that means Kelly is like us."

John hoped with all his heart that it didn't mean that. He had a reservoir of anger in him that still exploded from time to time. Eric seemed to carry that too. Kelly had never seemed to live with rage, yet . . . she looked like his son when she went at the bag. He wondered what was really at the heart of this new mystery. It worried him a little.

He became even more concerned the next night. When he arrived at Kelly's she looked tired, as if she hadn't slept. Her replies to his inquiries were evasive and he knew she was lying. Her response to his lovemaking however, was as wild as the last time. She was inspired and passionate, seeming to want him in every room in the house. He loved the passion, but . . .

At last, she lay quiet in his arms. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm and her head rested against his shoulder. Her fingers were idly toying with the hair on his chest. "Kelly," he began.

"John," she said at the same time.

They smiled and she said, "You first."

"No. You."

She laughed. "I'm going away for a few days."

"What?"

"You know my friend, Jenny? She asked if I'd go down with her to South Island. She's just getting out of a bad relationship and . . . anyways, I said I'd go."

"When?"

"Next week. I'll only be gone for three days, but . . . I'll miss you."

He stroked her hair. "Three whole days? I dunno if I can go that long without you."

She laughed. "You'll survive just fine."

"I'll miss you. Will you call?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. I expect she'll want to tramp into the backcountry. She's a nature girl, she is."

"Kelly, is there something wrong? I haven't run you off, have I?"

She shook her head. "Course not. How could you think that? Especially now?"

"I just . . . you seen distant somehow."

"Distant?" she echoed. She ran her hands over his body. "How can you say that? I'm laying here on top of you, starkers!"

He laughed. "You know you can be physically intimate without being . . . emotionally intimate."

She giggled. "You been watching Mary Lambie again? You sound like one of those self-help shows."

"All the same, if something was wrong, you'd tell me, eh?"

"Of course. Nothing's wrong. I'm just trying to help a friend."

John held her close, trying to put his fears aside. Still, as the time for Kelly's trip drew nearer, she did seem to be pulling away from him. He knew he wasn't imagining it. Although she remained just as physically passionate as ever, mentally and emotionally, she seemed to have pulled back. There wasn't anything he could put a finger on, but still . . . he was sure that he was losing her. The night before she left, he stayed over and Eric went to his Mum's. Kelly was different that night, her passion tempered with more gentleness and tenderness than he'd seen in a while. She clung to him and told him she loved him over and over again. He was afraid to ask questions, afraid of the answers, but the next morning, when she left, he did something he swore he would never do again.

He followed her. She didn't go to her friends or the airport, but to St. John's teaching hospital. He saw her park in the long-term lot and then waited. When she didn't come out in an hour, he used his mobile. He discovered that she was registered in a room and that no one would tell him anything else. He knew it would be easy enough to discover what was going on, but . . . he was afraid. Was she ill? Why hadn't she told him? Surely if it was serious, she'd have said. He knew he shouldn't pry, but he had a right to know, didn't he? What could she be doing in hospital? He sat in his car becoming more worried and then angry. Finally, he drove to his office, no wiser.

Jenny sat next to Kelly's bed, looking at her friend. "You didn't tell him, did ya?"

She shook her head. "No."

"You should have. He has a . . ."

"Right to know?" Kelly snapped. She studied her friend. "Not until I know, he doesn't. I'm not . . . what if it all turns out to be fine? Then I'd have worried him for nothing. And I don't . . ."

"So you'll go through this alone? Without him?"

"I'm not alone. You're here."

Jenny shook her head. "You know that's not what I mean. It concerns him too."

"It doesn't," Kelly insisted. "It's my body, not his. My problem. If . . . I . . . if nothing changes, then . . . but if it can be fixed."

"I don't know why you think you need to keep this from him. He seems an understanding bloke."

She shook her head. "You don't understand. He's . . . he won't be happy. And it's too soon. Maybe if we'd been together longer, if I was really sure that he loved me as much as he says, then . . . But sometimes I think what he loves is the newness of it, the idea of the relationship. He's got so many things going on around him, I don't think he's really thought any of it through."

"Kelly, you're handling this all wrong. If he finds out . . . you know he's gonna be angry."

"I'd rather have him angry than have him find out . . . the truth about me. At least until I know for sure."

Jenny shook her head again and then the nurse came in to take Kelly for the first of the tests.

John tried to work, but his mind kept returning to Kelly and what she might be doing at hospital. He booted his PC and did a little hacking. He discovered that she was under the care of a Dr. Donaldson, an ob/gyn and would be having a multitude of tests run over the next day and a half. She would only be there for one night. That didn't sound serious, although he didn't understand what the tests were for or why. Still . . . it seemed like a female thing; maybe that was why she hadn't told him. All the same, it worried him. He did some more research and still didn't understand. The tests were for fertility. She'd said she'd had that covered. He assumed that meant she was on birth control. Could she be pregnant? But wouldn't she have told him? She knew he wanted kids, knew how important that was to him. Still . . . she never seemed as enthused on the subject as he did. He shook his head and worried some more. He was very tempted to go to hospital and demand answers, but he suspected that would backfire on him. So he waited.

Kelly returned from hospital more depressed than when she'd gone in. They wouldn't have the final results for a few days, but things looked bleak. Dr. Donaldson had been sure that nothing had changed, and he seemed to be right. Well, she needed a definitive answer and now she had it. Only she didn't like the answer, didn't like it at all.

On the day she had told John she would be back from South Island, she called him. He sounded pleased to hear from her, but somewhat distant. She invited him over and to her surprise he declined. It was Eric's last night and John wanted to spend it with his son. He suggested a picnic the next day at Mission Bay Park, where they had their first date. She agreed.

The park was crowded. The weather was lovely and there were sunbathers as well as other picnickers. Even the playground was full with laughing happy children and their Mums. John had packed a basket and they sat on a blanket near the fountain. He asked about her trip and she was evasive, rather than lie to him. She asked about Eric and he seemed almost disinterested in discussing him. He sat far from her as if he didn't want to be close. She could tell something was wrong, but . . .

They sat in awkward silence for a long time, then it happened.

She was a little girl, about six. She wore red sneakers, red shorts and a red top. She carried a little red umbrella and she was near the fountain. When the water spurted, she stuck up her umbrella to catch it and began to sing. She was beautiful and laughing. Kelly watched John's face as he watched the child. He was entranced. He was grinning like a besotted fool. He turned to Kelly, gestured and suggested, "Look at her."

She was. The child was so beautiful and . . . she felt the tears well in her eyes. The jealousy and envy overwhelmed her as the child's mother came over and smiled at them. Kelly swallowed hard, the fear . . .

"Can't wait to have one just like that," John mumbled.

Kelly began to cry, heart wrenching sobs that exploded out of her. She began to tremble and shake, her volatile emotions spilling forth. John didn't understand what had just happened, but he tried to pull her into his arms to comfort her. She shoved him away. "Don't touch me," she wailed.

"Kelly, what it is?"

"I can't . . . have . . . children," she blurted.

"What?"

"I can't have kids, children, babies," she repeated slowly and distinctly. "Not ever."

His eyes opened wide with shock, his jaw dropped. "I don't understand."

She cried harder. "I have a condition called endometriosis. It's not life threatening, but . . . I've known for a long time, but I hoped . . . I lied to you. I didn't go to South Island. I went to hospital. They've made such great strides, but . . . the tests showed . . . I'm not able to . . ." She gulped and wiped her eyes on her hand. "I'm sorry."

A rush of emotions overwhelmed him. First relief that she wasn't ill, that the tests were simply tests. Then anger that she kept it from him, then disappointment that she couldn't have kids. Still, she was so distraught! "Kelly," he murmured, "it's all right."

"It's NOT!" she exclaimed. "You want kids. I know you do. You just said so. I can see it on you. See it every time you look at Eric. And I can't . . . I can't give you that. I'm . . . shit, it's hopeless."

"Kelly, it doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does," she contended. "And if you think it doesn't, you're lying to yourself. I KNOW how badly you want them. How much you missed of your son growing up. John, this is a . . . deal breaker."

"A deal breaker?"

"I'm only half a woman. I can't give you . . . everything. As much as you say you love me . . . how can you? Not when I can't . . . give you children."

He heard the pain, the disappointment and the fear. He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. She tried to fight him off, but he knew she didn't really want to. She sobbed against him, her body trembling. He stroked her hair and whispered words of reassurance. This had to be her secret, the thing she was afraid to tell him! The thing she feared would cause him to stop loving her. "Kelly," he insisted, "it's all right."

"It's not," she sobbed. "It's not. You'll never be happy with me. Never. You'll always want what I can't give you. Wish for something I can't do."

"It's okay," he asserted. "It's you I want. Not a . . . baby machine."

"You say that now, but . . . down the road . . . you'll change your mind. You'll begin to hate me, resent me, because I can't give you babies. You'll see kids, like you just did, and you'll hate me!"

"Kelly, I won't. I love you."

"John," she persisted, "maybe you do now. But in time, you'll change your mind. I know. I KNOW!"

"That's crazy. Why would you think that?"

"It's happened before," she confessed in a small soft voice. She gulped back more tears. "I . . . almost got married once."

"What happened?"

She shook her head. "We were going through the pre-marriage counseling with our priest. When Gerald found out I couldn't have kids . . . he said he loved me, but . . ."

He held her tighter, Christ, no wonder she was so scared and upset. "Kelly, I swear, I'm not like that. I won't do that."

She shook her head. "You say that now, but . . . John, honestly, you DO want kids. Desperately. And I can't give you that. Not ever."

"The tests, they're 100% accurate?"

"Yes, they are. I just had them run again. There's no way. It's not possible, not with drugs, in-vitro, not with anything. I cannot have children."

"It's okay, we can adopt."

"We could," she admitted, "but they wouldn't be yours. Not by blood."

"You think that matters?" he asked. "You think that makes a difference?"

"It DOES make a difference. You want your OWN kids, your own blood. That's not a bad thing. I don't fault you for that; I love you for it. But I can't give you that. And I love you enough to want you to have it."

"I have a son, Kelly. Maybe I did miss seeing him grow up, but he exists. All I want is for us to be together, with or without kids."

She studied his eyes, he seemed so sincere, but she knew, deep in her heart, she knew, that he didn't mean it. Couldn't mean it. "John, I . . . please . . . think about this carefully. You've mentioned marriage and kids in the same breath. I know you're serious, that you think you want to spend your life with me. God knows, I love you and I want to be with you. But . . . you haven't really had time to process this. I know you want to comfort me, make me believe that everything is going to be all right, but the truth is, it isn't. This is a big thing, a huge thing. I know I kept it from you, and maybe I shouldn't have, but I was so happy and I didn't want to . . . lose that. Lose you. But before we go any further, before you start making promises I know you're going to regret, I want you to think about this. Think about what it means to tie yourself to a woman who can't give you kids. Because you WILL regret it. I know you will."

"Kelly, I . . ."

She pulled away from him and rose from the blanket. "John, please . . . think about this. I don't want you to . . . stay in my life and learn to hate me. I'd much rather we end it here and now, than prolong the agony. I love you, with all my heart, but I'll never be more than half a woman. Never be able to complete you the way you want. And I couldn't live with seeing that disappointment in your eyes. I just couldn't."

"You are NOT half a woman," he yelled. "You're all the woman I'll ever need. Bloody hell, what do I have to say? That making love with you is the greatest adventure I've ever had? That you're the most exciting, vibrant, frustrating woman I've ever known? You make me laugh, you make me randy and you make me miss you every time I leave you. I don't give a rat's ass about kids, as long as I can have you!" He jumped up from the blanket and grabbed her arms. "I'm not letting you run away from me. Kelly, I love you."

His words took her breath away. She wanted to believe him. She ached to believe him. She studied his eyes; they were open and honest. For the moment, he truly believed the words he had uttered. "Oh, John, I wish . . ."

He pulled her against him, wrapped his arms around her and whispered, "You're always telling me I think too much. Well, this time, you did. Kelly, I swear to you, it doesn't matter. We can adopt or not. I don't care if we have kids around the house or not. I just want you."

She melted against him too emotionally drained to fight. She lay her head on his shoulder and shook for a moment, tears again falling from her eyes.

He tilted her head. "Stop crying, would ya? Half the park's already staring at us. They're gonna think I'm abusing you or something."

"Oh John," she gulped. "I do love you so, I want so badly to . . . believe you."

"Believe me, 'cause I mean it. I can prove it too. We can get married with Willy and Tam, have a double wedding."

She shook her head. "No. I'm not willing to do that . . . not now. And as much as you say . . . you really do need to think about this. Honestly, you do. I love that you're so sure and so confident you know what you feel. But really, you need to . . ."

He stared at her for a moment, then said, "You talk too much!" He brushed his lips over hers lightly and then whispered, "I love you, Kelly Margaret Mary Callahan and I always will. If you don't want to get married right now, I'll wait. But I'm telling you, it's gonna happen someday. I'm not quitting on ya."

She shivered against him and then whispered a silent prayer of thanks to St. Christopher, the patron saint of lost causes.

John knew he'd gone overboard when he'd shopped for Christmas, but he couldn't help it. In past years, he hadn't done more than buy small gifts for his Mum; for the most part there was no one else. This year there was Kelly, his Mum and Eric. He'd even bought some things for Shay since he planned to spend part of the day with her and Eric. Kelly needed to be at church Christmas morning and she had invited him to Christmas dinner at her parents saying it was high time he met the worst of her life. He doubted very much if her family celebrations could be any more difficult or unpleasant than some of Marla's were. Still, the fact that she'd asked him meant something.

He spent Christmas Eve at Kelly's, at least until she had to leave for midnight mass. She'd been oddly quiet, loving but not her usual passionate self. He'd wondered and finally he'd asked. She'd laughed and said it made her feel funny to be her usual wanton lustful self on the eve of the savior's birth. Though usually she had no trouble rationalizing her behavior, this one night she couldn't quite seem to come to grips with it.

John understood and left without even trying to make love to her. It was oddly restful and in a way, almost more fulfilling then being together was.

Bright and early Christmas morning he drove over to Shay's. He knocked on the door and Eric opened it rubbing sleep from his eyes. Those same eyes opened very wide at the sight of two overflowing shopping bags on John's arms.

He grinned as he let his Dad in. John dropped the bags where he stood and hugged his son. He held him tight for a moment, realizing just how much he missed seeing him everyday. "I missed you," John muttered.

"Aw, Dad," Eric snorted with embarrassment.

John pulled back; Eric looked pleased though, as well as mildly embarrassed. He ruffled his son's hair and asked, "Where's your Mum?"

"Making coffee." Eric paused, looked at the bags and asked, "Are all of those for me?"

John felt his face flush. "Well, um, most. But they aren't ALL from me. Mum, your Nana sent something and there's one from Kelly too. And I got a few things for your Mum."

"You what?"

Shay strolled into the lounge. She wore her yellow dressing gown, her hair was loose and she looked sleepy, but much better. She was carrying two full mugs of coffee. "You like it black, right?"

He nodded and accepted the cup. "I guess I should have worn my pj's, eh?" he joked.

"You don't wear any," Eric muttered. Then he added, "I mean you . . ."

John laughed. "I was joking."

Shay pulled her gown a little tighter. The thought of John naked was . . . she sighed. She could do this. She had her son back and he seemed to have come to grips with everything during his stay with John. Eric was again the loving son he'd been before. He was happier, affectionate and gentle. No more sulking, no more snide remarks and best, he didn't throw anything in her face. No, John said this, or John does that, he was simply Eric again. She was more than grateful; she was humbled by the change.

John sipped his coffee. The small flat had been transformed for the holidays. Shay had put up a tree and decorated it. Most of the ornaments looked handmade, by a child perhaps. There were gaily colored garlands and lights all over the room. "Place looks lovely," he remarked.

She smiled. "Thanks. Most years we never had too much under the tree, but we were always festive." She stared at the bags and smiled wryly. "Guess that won't be a problem this year."

John grinned ruefully. "I've got a lot of missed Christmases to make up for. Besides," he explained, "they aren't all for him and they aren't all from me."

"Just most I'd wager," Shay muttered. She paused and asked, "John, can you help me in the kitchen? Eric, why don't you put the presents by the tree and don't be shaking them."

"Mum," he squealed.

His parents laughed and John followed Shay. She gestured to a chair and declared, "I wanted to talk to you for a moment without him listening."

John sucked in his breath and sat. Her mouth was pursed in a tight line and her tone wasn't warm.

"John, I know you want to make up for everything, but you don't have to buy his love. He doesn't need things to know you care. He knows."

"I'm not trying to . . . buy anything. I just . . . I love buying him things."

She shook her head. "I know you think he's been . . . cheated because he didn't have much, but he's always had the important things."

John reached for her hand. "Shay, I know that. He's incredible. You've done such a fine job with him. He's warm, sweet; generous despite the way he was when I first met him. He was so angry and so defensive; no one could find the real Eric. But now? He's just the most . . . it's a complete reflection of how you raised him. I can't imagine how you did it. I couldn't have."

She felt tears well in her eyes. "He gets some of that from you. Even though you weren't here, he's very like you in some ways."

"Yeah? Well, I was pretty angry and defensive as a teen myself."

"That's not what I meant. Eric is very . . . sensitive . . . he feels things, that's why he was the way he was. You're the same, always thinking, putting the worst possible spin on it. You've a knack for making things hard for yourself and so does he."

"I noticed that," he admitted with a self-deprecatory laugh. "But you've given him enough love to keep him whole. He is insecure, but I think if we work together, we can build his confidence."

"We?" she echoed faintly.

"Well, we ARE his parents. We both love him and want the best for him. It stands to reason it'll be better if we work together, eh?"

She nodded. "Thanks for coming over here. I'm sure that it wasn't an . . . easy choice to make. I'm sure you'd rather be . . ."

"Shay, I would not rather be somewhere else. I already missed thirteen Christmases. I'm not going to miss another. It was an easy choice."

"And she's not . . . mad?"

He released her hand and sighed. Lately it always seemed to come back to this. "Kelly understands. I'm meeting her later."

She shook her head. "She sounds too good to be true."

"Shay," he began in a warning tone.

Shay continued as if she hadn't heard him, unable to stop herself. "John, Eric's told me a little about her. He likes her and she seems to like him. I may not like that you're seeing her, but that has no relevance here. What is relevant is that she accept him and his place in your life. As long as she does that, I have no quarrel with her."

"She does accept him, she, bloody hell, Shay, she adores him." He took a deep breath and added, "And Shay, I'm probably going to marry her, so get used to it, eh?"

Shay felt the blood drain from her face as she whispered, "What?"

"I hadn't meant to tell you, but I get so tired of walking on eggshells around you. You make it so bloody difficult to hold a simple conversation."

She swallowed hard and asked, "When?"

John shrugged. "I dunno. She hasn't agreed. But I am bloody serious about her and that's not gonna change. So you need to accept that she's in my life for good, eh? And Eric's life too."

Shay felt as if she'd been kicked in the stomach. Slowly she asked, "What happens to Eric when you have kids with her?"

John's eyes widened as he repeated, "What?"

"I've seen it before," Shay suggested. "When the bloke starts a new family the old one gets . . . dismissed. I've seen how you look at him. What's gonna happen when the . . . babies come?"

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I'm not quitting on him."

Shay wouldn't leave it. "How will she handle you splitting your time between him and the others?"

"Shay, trust me . . . this isn't an issue."

"Of course it is," she insisted. "Have you given any thought to how he'll feel about it?"

John sighed. "Shay, we aren't married yet, so there's no call to be worried about babies, eh?"

She bit her lip. "I can't let you hurt him. He's been hurt enough. Promise me that you won't abandon him."

John studied her face. She looked worried and he tried to reassure her without telling her Kelly's secret. "Shay, I'd never do that. I love him. No matter what, I'm never gonna stop. I made you a promise and him one, to do right by you both and I meant it. I'll keep my word. You can trust me."

It wasn't really John she was worried about. It was Kelly. It was all well and good for John to say he wouldn't drop his son like a hot potato when the babies came, but what about Kelly? What would she ask for? Insist on? Demand that he do? How could she trust her son's future to a woman she'd never met? She stared at John's face. He had that stubborn mulish expression she knew so well. Eric got the same look when he dug in his heels and refused to cooperate. She changed the subject. "Bangers and eggs okay for breakfast?"

John gave a long sigh of relief. "Sounds good." He took a deep breath, "Shay, I wish I knew some way to make things easier for you. I really do. But I'm fresh out of ideas. I do know this, Eric needs both of us and he needs us to be friends. I'm trying, but you don't make it easy."

She gave him wan smile. "I'll work on it. Consider it an extra Christmas gift."

John rose from the table. "Speaking of gifts," he suggested, "how about we open some?"

"Good idea. Your son's been alone in there too long."

John laughed. "My son, is he?" They went back into the lounge to find their son loafing nonchalantly on the sofa looking innocent. Or trying to. The gifts were piled neatly, way too neatly under the tree.

"You shook every single one, didn't you?" his Mum asked rhetorically.

Eric's face flushed and he shook his head.

Shay laughed. She went to a drawer and pulled out a long red cap. "John, want to play Santa?"

John stuck the cap on his head and began passing out presents. He gave Eric two from his Nana and watched the boy tear into them. His smile of delight when he got them open was magical.

"Oh, wow," he exclaimed. Box one contained a small note and box two contained a sweatshirt. An All-Blacks sweatshirt. The note promised a subscription to New Zealand Rugby World would start arriving next month. "See, Dad, Nana's cool."

John shook his head. "She used to get me skivvies and socks."

Shay roared with laughter. "Eric, what do I usually buy you?"

Eric flushed. "Well . . . you give me other stuff too!"

Shay turned to John. "It's a Mum versus a Grandmum thing. You have to provide for the kid, so you buy practical. The grandkids though you . . . spoil."

John smiled as he handed Eric the box from Kelly. The boy opened it more slowly trying to reign in his excitement when he saw what it was. He glanced guiltily at his Mum before he commented, "Very nice."

Kelly had refused to tell John what she bought only that she knew Eric would love it and that it was a present for John as well. It was. The large box contained smaller boxes until finally Eric got to an envelope. In the envelope were two tickets for the rugby season at Eden Park. South Stand, grade A, the best tickets in the place. One ticket for Eric and one for John. It was huge gift, immensely expensive and perfect.

John's expression of delight was as boyish and joyful as his son's was. In fact, they both looked exactly how little boys on Christmas morning should look. It was lovely, but it wasn't something Shay had done for them. She shook her head. She could never compete with that.

As father and son looked over the brochure, which was included with the tickets, Shay studied her Christmas tree. Eric had made every ornament on it. Maybe she couldn't buy John's love, but she did have something precious she could give him.

"I think it's time to give John something," she suggested softly.

The two males looked up their faces guilty. She smiled and asked, "Eric do you remember this?" she pointed to a small round ball that was painted with trees. The boy nodded. She slipped it off the tree and offered it to John. "For you."

John came to her and took the tiny thing as if it were diamond. He looked at it and asked, "Eric, did you make this?" His son nodded. "It's beautiful." He turned back to Shay and answered solemnly, "Thank you. I don't have a tree though, so could I keep it here on yours?"

She nodded and took it back. John draped an arm around her shoulders and whispered, "Thank you. I know what . . . thank you."

She rested against him for moment and then suggested, "There's a ton more presents. Sooner we finish sooner we can eat."

It took almost an hour for Eric to open all the gifts from John. Still, even Shay had to admit John hadn't spoiled him too badly. There were a lot of small things like T-shirts, CDs and video games. The big gift was a new pair of training shoes, which even she had to admit, Eric needed. Then John gave her her gifts.

He'd obviously spent time trying to buy just the right thing and he had succeeded. There was a new dressing gown, bright blue this time, in terry cloth. This one zipped rather than tied. He'd also given her a gift certificate for a day at a spa complete with facial, manicure, pedicure and massage. It was way too costly for her to accept. "John, I can't . . ."

"You can," he insisted. "I want you too. Consider it thirteen Christmases worth of back debt. You need to pamper yourself occasionally. You spent the last thirteen years giving everything to him, now take some time for you."

She knew it had to have been Kelly's idea not his. Still . . . "Thank you," she paused. "I have something for you too."

"Really? You didn't have to . . ."

"Neither did you." She handed him a small box. He opened it eagerly. Inside lay a pair of bronze . . . baby shoes?

"They were Eric's," she explained. "I thought you might like to have them."

He hugged her. "It's wonderful. Thank you."

She pulled away and turned her face. She didn't want him to see the tears.

Eric sitting on the sofa muttered, "I guess all Mum's cry when they're happy, eh?"

Shay turned to him a question in her eyes.

"Nana did that a couple of times when we were visiting. I thought it was weird, but I guess . . . you cry when you're happy too."

Shay laughed and wiped her tears on the sleeve of her dressing gown. "Yes, women, not just Mums, cry when they're happy. It's a female thing."

Eric shrugged. "Seems kind of silly to me."

Shay smiled. "Don't you have a present for Jo . . . your father,"

Eric jumped up from the sofa. "Two actually. Only one of them is in a box though."

John looked puzzled and turned to Shay. She shook her head as if she didn't know and waited same as him. First Eric handed him a box to open. John did, taking it slow. He had no idea what Eric might have bought him and he was almost afraid to find out. He need not have worried. Nestled inside the box was a little plaque. The plaque said, "To the greatest Dad in the world."

John felt his eyes suddenly well up. Christ, he couldn't cry in front of his son. He rubbed his eyes pretending they itched. He felt Shay tug on his arm to see what was in the box. He heard her sharp intake of breath and then she was crying too. He lost it then; he looked at his son, who sat on the sofa, grinning at them.

"You're both crying now," Eric remarked. "It's just a little . . . plaque," he added.

"Just a little . . ." John echoed. "Eric, you'll never know what this means. Come here."

Eric, still grinning, slowly strolled over to him. John wrapped his arms around his son and hugged him tight. Then he pulled one of his arms away from his son and pulled Shay close. "Dad," Eric confessed, "I love you."

Oh Christ, John thought his heart would burst. He hugged Eric even tighter. "Eric, I love you, too, son."

Eric laughed. "Dad, it's really weird when you call me son. No one I know ever says that."

"Want me to stop?"

"Well, I guess it's okay when we're alone, or with Mum or Kelly, but when we're at school, it will sound weird to the others, even after they hear me call you Dad."

John released Eric and Shay and took a step back. "Eric, what are you saying?"

Eric kept grinning. "It's the other gift. The one not in a box. I've been thinking and I like that you're my Dad, so if you want to fix things, so it's legal like, I'd like that. Of course, you might have to stop coaching, but . . ."

John felt the room spin around him. He forced himself to take a deep breath. "You want to . . . acknowledge our relationship?" Eric nodded. "You want me to get the birth certificate changed?" Again, Eric nodded. "You wanna take my name?"

"Well," Eric agreed slowly, "only if that's okay with Mum."

Shay was flabbergasted, but she agreed. "The only thing Phil ever gave you was his name. He doesn't deserve to have you carry it for him. If you wanna take John's last name, it's okay with me."

"Eric Lawless?" the boy repeated. "Has a nice ring to it."

"A beautiful ring," John agreed.

Shay wiped more tears from her eyes. "Eric, have I told you today just how proud I am of you and how very much I love you?"

"Nope, but . . . thanks."

She ruffled his hair then added, "I'm gonna start cooking. Why don't you two straighten up and then we'll eat?"

"Sure thing," Eric agreed. When she left the room, he looked at John, "So?"

John shook his head. "You're the best gift of all, Eric. Are you sure about this? The blokes, they're bound to give you a hard time. Especially Kevin. When they find out, they're gonna make remarks and such."

The boy sighed. "I know. But . . . Phil was never a father to me and you are. I'd rather have someone I can be proud of than . . . him. Besides, you taught me to box. None of them can take me and they'd be fools to try!"

John smiled. "Don't let them get to you. I don't want you getting into fights again, getting suspended from school. You're a smart kid, don't let the dick . . . idiots spoil things."

"Before I called you Dad you said dickhead all the time. It's not like I never heard it before."

John laughed self-consciously. "Well now that we're making it official, I guess I thought I should sound more . . . fatherly."

"I love you like you are, Dad. Don't change."

Once again, John pulled him into a hug. He held Eric tight, feeling the love wash over him like a spring rain. "I can't promise I'll never change, but how about I just don't watch my language anymore?"

"Fair enough. Now, could you let go? If we don't cleanup, Mum won't feed us. She makes choice bangers."

John drove to Kelly's in a state of bliss. Breakfast had been lovely, despite the argument with Shay and he realized he'd gotten exactly what he wanted. His son loved him, wanted to be his son completely. It was an astonishing gift, more impressive because he hadn't dared hope that it would happen so fast.

Shay seemed to . . . accept things. Finally. Although he knew it was probably an illusion she created. Still, she was happy for him about Eric and that was something.

When he arrived at Kelly's, he parked in front and taking a small bag strolled up the footpath. He knocked and she pulled open the door eagerly. She took one look at him and exclaimed, "You've had a very good morning!"

He grinned. "How can you tell?"

She laughed. "You're glowing like a Christmas tree. It went well?"

He nodded. "Eric told me he loved me. He asked me to have the birth certificate changed and to take my name. Kelly, it's more than I ever hoped."

"Oh, John," she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. She buried her face in his shoulder so he wouldn't see her tears and tried to fight the wave of envy that threatened to overwhelm her. She knew how much this meant, knew the gift it was, but it still hurt. She could never give him that. Never.

"Kelly," he whispered. "It's all right. Don't . . ." he stroked her hair and felt her tremble. "I love you."

She clung to him for moment and then swallowed back the bile as she asked, "And Shay? How did she take it?"

"She was pleased, I think. She loved the gift, by the by, didn't want to take it at first, but . . . I think she was touched."

'I'll bet she was pleased,' Kelly thought. 'One more way to tie you to her, through her son.' Aloud she said, "I'm glad she liked it."

"You're so clever about things like that. Oh and Eric, he said thanks and sent something over for you, too."

She pulled back to look at him. "What?"

John grinned. "He gave me a gift for you. He likes you."

Her eyes opened very wide. "He got me a gift?"

John nodded. "If you'll undrape yourself, I'll give it to you."

She released him immediately and stepped back. "He liked his gift?"

John smiled. "Oh yeah. For that matter, so did I. You shouldn't have, but . . ."

"You're so glad I did," she finished for him.

He laughed. "Yeah. It was perfect."

"Only perfect presents for my two favorite boys," she teased. "I'll bet your face was grinning as much as his."

"Guilty as charged." John began to look through the bag. He pulled out a small box and handed it to her. "From Eric."

She took it gingerly and then opened it carefully. She wondered who wrapped it, surely not his Mum. Inside the box nestled a small little silver charm, a cat with a bowl of cream. It was lovely. "Oh, my," she breathed. "It's . . . your son has good taste."

John had helped Eric pick it out, so he knew what it was, still he was pleased that Kelly liked it. "You like it, really?"

She nodded. "It's gorgeous. Although why a cat with cream? I don't have pets."

John's face flushed. "Well he thinks that's how you look when you look at me. Like you want to . . . um . . . lick me up."

Kelly began to laugh. "Smart boy, your son. He's got my number. In fact, that's not a half-bad idea. What say we skip my parents and go straight to the . . . licking?"

"Oh, no, you don't, no distracting me with sex today. I wanna meet them. Show them I'm honorable in my intentions."

She shook her head. "You're such a . . . I dunno what."

"Bloke in love?" he joked.

"You're something anyway. Want to do gifts now or later?"

"Depends on what you got me," he teased.

She laughed. "Well, there's a few things under the tree and something in the bedroom that will have to be opened later."

"I like the sound of that one."

"Course if we skipped . . . you could . . . have me . . . I mean it . . . now," she whispered seductively.

"Flirt," he retorted. "You know very well I have no self-control . . . so don't tease me."

"Too bad. 'Cause later, I intend to . . . tease you unmercifully."

He pulled her back into his arms and hugged her. "I love you," he declared. "I feel like if I never got anything else, it would be just fine. You and Eric are the two most important things in my life. To have you both to love and be loved by . . . it's more than I ever dreamed I could have."

She nestled against him. "You put me first," she exclaimed with wonder.

He stared at her. "I did, didn't I? Guess that means I love you best."

"It's not a contest."

"No, it's not. But you, you sort of belong to only me. I have to share Eric, so I guess in that way, you DO come first."

"Well, usually, first, second and third," she flirted. "Then you come!"

He laughed. "You aren't going to say things like that at your folks house, are you?"

She giggled. "Bloody hell, no. They still think I'm a virgin, or at least pretend to themselves I am. They would be mortified if they knew how . . . wanton I can be."

"Let's not tell them then, eh? I don't want your Dad to kill me for corrupting you."

She swallowed. "John, about Da. He's most likely going to get drunk. Probably say some things . . . don't take it personal."

"What kind of things?"

"They know you were married, though not in the Catholic Church. They don't know about Eric. But they aren't . . . because you're not . . . marriage would NOT be good topic, eh?"

"Kelly, I thought we agreed that I was serious and I could let them know that. If I don't mention marriage, how will they know?"

"John, just be you, eh? They'll see you're a serious kind of bloke. It will be enough."

He shook his head. "No, Kelly, I want to marry you, you know that. Why can't we tell them?"

She studied him. His face was set in a stubborn mulish expression so clearly he was going to push it. She sighed. "John, I can't give you kids. I know you say it doesn't matter, but it does. To me. I'm not ready to give my folks any expectations. Besides, they'll expect you to get your previous marriage annulled and convert to the Catholic Church."

"What?" he exclaimed.

"Did I forget to mention that?" she remarked slowly. "My folks are very serious about religion. So you may wanna rethink this."

His jaw dropped. "You expect me to . . . convert?"

She shook her head. "Of course not. Since there won't be children, you don't need to be Catholic to marry me. But my folks, they're . . . old-fashioned. It's going to take some time for THEM to come round. Just let them know you're serious, but not how serious, eh?"

He shook his head. "I can't believe you didn't tell me."

"John, I never expected you to . . . still want me after you found out. I thought you'd . . . stop loving me. Stop wanting me or marriage. So . . ."

"Surprised you, didn't I?"

She nodded. "Let's just take this one step a time, eh? Meet them and let them meet you. Then . . ."

He sighed. "You don't make it easy on a bloke."

She laughed. "In your case, I prefer to make it hard."

He smiled. "You do that all the time."

She grinned mischievously and slid her hand over his body. "Not at the moment," she teased with feigned disappointment. "But I bet if I," she ran her nails over his groin, "worked at it for a bit . . ."

He grabbed her hand. "None of that! I'm not going to your folks with a hard-on."

She laughed. "Then we better go, 'cause I'm about to ravish you."

"I wanna give you something first."

"A hard-on?"

"No," he retorted. "This." He pulled a small box out of the bag.

Kelly looked at it. It was a jeweler's box, small, but large enough to hold a ring. "John?" she began.

"Don't be afraid. Just open it. And before you ask, yes I did get it from Kyle."

With trepidation, she lifted the lid. Her eyes opened wide and then she let out an oh of delighted surprise. It was not the ring she feared, but a pendant. A lovely little freeform cross in gold set with emeralds. She'd seen it when Vicki had made it and had asked about it. "Oh, John," she murmured, "it's beautiful."

"You like it?"

"I LOVE it. Put it on me, please?"

"I'd love to." He took the necklace from her hand and lifted her hair. He draped the delicate chain around her throat and clasped it. Then he lightly kissed the nape of her neck.

She moaned at the touch of his lips and then turned and kissed him. "Thank you."

He ran his fingers over her lips. "I love you."

"You keep doing things like this and I might even learn to believe you."

He smiled. "It looks wonderful on you."

She smiled then ran to look in the mirror. It did look lovely. She turned to him. "One look at this and my folks will know how serious you are."

"They won't think I waste my money?"

She laughed. "No. Religious jewelry is acceptable."

He laughed. "One car or two?"

"One, mine. This way you can't escape my clutches."

"I don't wanna escape."

"You haven't met the family yet."

Christmas at the Callahans' was a huge affair. Kelly's family was comprised of her six brothers and sisters, plus spouses and kids. There were also aunts and uncles. It seemed like there were a hundred people, all of them loud and curious. John was subjected to worse interrogations than when he had been arrested for murder. Her sisters and brothers had asked him all kinds of questions. They wanted to know everything about him from the size of his paycheck to how he felt about God. Still . . . he could handle it because he knew it was because they loved Kelly and wanted her to be happy. They weren't being nosy just to be nosy, but because they cared.

In a way, they reminded him of his Maori relatives, a loud, loving boisterous clan who stuck together, protected and defended each other. Kelly's brother, Brian, the one who taught her to box, was clearly her favorite. As she was clearly his. She spent quite a bit of time sitting on the arm of his chair, whispering to him, as John was being questioned by one of her sisters.

Brian only asked one thing, "Do you love her?"

John told him he did. Brian had shrugged and acknowledged, "She's a complicated one. But worth the trouble."

John had agreed wholeheartedly. The two men exchanged smiles and then talked about boxing. Brian had a son about the same age as Eric. Ian was also learning to box. John told Brian about Eric, and suggested the two boys might make good sparing partners. Brian thought that was a fine idea and suggested they introduce them the following Saturday. As Brian turned to talk to someone else, he declared, "You'll do."

John smiled sensing he had been approved. Well, that was one hurdle down. Now for the rest. So far, he hadn't spoken to Kelly's Da, except for saying hello. Her Mum was busy cooking and her father surrounded by grandkids. He glanced around the room taking it all in. There was love and joy here and not just because of the holiday, but because they were a family. They belonged together, to each other and to themselves, too. It was something he'd never had and he realized how much he'd missed. How lovely it was to be a part of something bigger than yourself.

"Whatcha thinking?" Kelly whispered from behind him.

"How lucky you are and how lucky I am."

"Lucky?" she echoed.

He turned to face her. "To have so much love surrounding you. A big family, it's an amazing thing. Growing up, there was just Mum, Nana and me. They loved me and I them, but . . . it's not the same."

"John," she began.

"Don't say it," he interrupted. "It's not about having kids. It's about being a part of a family. That means lots of people, parents, cousins, aunts and uncles. It's about combining people, rellies and friends into something that's bigger than you are. Something that . . . envelops you. Welcomes you. It's not about two or three people, but about all of you. Thank you for being in my life, for giving me this."

Her eyes filled with tears. "John, you are so . . . you always know the right thing to say. Doesn't it EVER get boring to be perfect?"

"I'm not perfect."

"You are too," she insisted. "So bloody perfect that you make me feel . . ."

"I make you feel what?"

"Like a prize fool for saying no."

"Then say yes."

"No. And you know why. Anyways, you're making a hit with the rellies."

"I am?"

She nodded. "Mum says you're too good looking by half and Brian said you'd do. High words of praise from them both."

"Where is your Mum? Except for when we got here, I haven't seen her."

"Holding court in the kitchen. Directing my sisters-in-law in the cooking and generally playing Queen Mum."

He laughed. "Where did she find the time to express an opinion of me?"

"Two minutes after she met ya." Kelly paused and then muttered, "Uh oh."

"Uh oh?" John repeated.

"Da's making his rather unsteady way over here. The kids have been bringing him beer for a few hours. Try not to . . . let him get to you."

John was prepared for the worst and Joseph P. Callahan gave it to him. He started the conversation with, "So . . . you were married before?"

John admitted he was.

"You aren't Catholic."

John agreed that was true.

"What are you doing with my little girl?" Kelly's father challenged.

Kelly's nails dug into John's arm, afraid his famous temper would explode.

Instead John smiled and acknowledged, "Sir, I know how you feel. You love your daughter and you worry about her. Well, I love her too. I'm prepared to take care of her and love her for as long as she'll let me."

"Pretty speech," her Da sneered. "What's it mean?"

"Da . . ." Kelly began.

"Be quiet," he ordered. "I'm talking to your bloke."

John continued to smile. "I have the utmost respect and affection for your daughter. It means I'll mar . . . I'll . . . my intentions are honorable."

"Honorable? You gonna marry her? She can't have kids, ya know. Seems a piss poor bargain to me."

John felt his temper flare at her father's cruelty. Kelly's face had gone white and her nails were digging harder. John swallowed twice before he answered. "Sir, I beg your pardon, but that's a terrible thing to say of your child. Kelly is a wonderful woman. I'm not interested in starting a dynasty or a breeding farm. Kelly's worth ten of you."

Surprisingly her father began to laugh. He roared for a good five minutes and then he snorted, "He's a fine bloke, Kelly. You marry him." Then he turned on his heel and walked away.

"What the bloody hell just happened?" John asked.

Kelly shook her head. "I have no idea. John, I'm so sorry. He's such a . . . " she began to shake.

John pulled her into his arms; despite the looks he got and held her. "It's okay. I meant it."

"He had no call . . . what if I hadn't told you? That would have been a fine way for you to find out."

He stroked her hair. "Don't do this to yourself. You did tell me. Besides, after all, I think he gave his approval."

She shook her head. "He won't remember and he doesn't mean it."

"You can remind him and so will I." Her eyes went wide. "When you're ready to agree. I promise, no more pushing."

She hugged him and suggested, "Let's go find Mum. I want her to spend some time with you. Let you charm her like you did me.

He laughed and released her. They found her Mum and within five minutes her Mum was charmed and had charmed John in return. Kelly was happy that at least one of her parents knew how to behave.

The rest of dinner passed without further incident and finally Kelly and John took their leave. Kelly drove to her home in silence. John still seemed somewhat bemused by the day's events and despite her Mum's good behavior; her Da's typical bad behavior still rankled. She had wanted to strangle him for the things he said. Still, John had handled him well and what HAD that approval been about? The last time she and her Dad had spoken civilly was four years before. These days she stayed as far from him as she decently could. Ever since Gerald had broken their engagement four years before, her Da had been like that. Always sniping at her, making her feel guilty, although this wasn't her fault. He seemed to be continually insulting her. Mum said it was his disappointment because she was his favorite, but she didn't buy that. Her Da had always had a cruel streak and that was that.

Kelly sighed and sneaked a glance at her lover. John was leaning back against the seat with his eyes closed. "Don't be falling asleep on me," she muttered loudly. "I have big plans for the rest of this evening."

John opened his eyes and grinned at her. "No chance. I have a few . . . big plans myself."

She laughed. "Hope you didn't mind the way the kids ate. They seem to enjoy throwing their food as much as eating it."

He laughed. "Well, after I got hit by the third roll I got the hang of it. Eat two bites, toss some food, and eat a little more. Had a nice rhythm. I think Jamie's gonna be a good soccer player. He does nice work with his head."

Kelly laughed. "I love you. Have I told you that today?"

"Not in the last hour or so. Glad to hear it."

At last, she pulled in front of her home. She parked and they got out. As soon as they were inside the front door she turned and threw her arms around John. "You," she whispered against his ear, "are a saint. If you WERE Catholic, I'd be making a plea to the Pope."

"Kelly, I'm about to prove to you just how UNsaintly I am."

She giggled. "Planning on partaking of the pleasures of the flesh, are we?"

"With lustful, wicked wanton abandon."

She giggled again and hugged him. "Presents first, then we can . . . misbehave."

"You're no fun," he complained with feigned disappointment.

"Oh yes I am. Just wait until you see what's in the bedroom."

"Let's do that first."

She pulled away from him and shook her head. "You lost your shot at that one earlier. Now you have to wait. I TOLD you I was gonna tease you."

"So you did . . ." he mumbled. "But I thought you meant with . . . your mouth."

"I'll get there. Later." She dragged him to the sofa and pressed him down. "Sit. I have some things to arrange."

"Let me help."

She shook her head. "Just relax. You've had a very busy day. Won't take more than a tick."

He sighed. He WAS tired. The day had started early and been full of an enormous amount of emotion. Despite how mostly pleasant it had been at Kelly's folks, he wasn't used to being around so many people. In it's own way, it was exhausting. He leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes.

Kelly went into the kitchen, opened a bottle of red wine and poured a glass for John. He hadn't touched a drop at her parents' despite the amount of alcohol the rest of them had consumed. She sauntered back into the lounge to see that John HAD fallen asleep. She smiled and put the wine on the coffee table. She'd finish getting things ready and then wake him.

She shut off the overhead light and began lighting candles until the room was filled with the soft glow of flickering flames. She turned on the tree, tuned the stereo to soft jazz and then ran into the bedroom. She quickly stripped off her "parent" clothes and put on John's present. Then she returned to the lounge. He was still sleeping, his mouth slightly open.

She stood for a moment looking at him and then went over to the sofa. She touched his lips lightly and then snuggled up against him. She could hear his even steady breathing, the slow thud of his heart. He smelled of the soap she liked and his skin was warm.

She rested against him, reveling in the comfort of his body, even at rest it was a haven, warm, safe, hers. She felt his arms encircle her and knew he was now awake. Still, she said nothing, just lay there, feeling happy and content. She stroked the soft hair on his arms lightly, tracing the skin and bone over and over, feeling the hair run through her fingers like the finest of silk. She heard his breathing quicken and then, "Shall I open my eyes?"

She giggled. "I'm wearing your present."

"Hmm. Think I'll try to guess with only my sense of . . . touch."

She giggled again and then her own breathing quickened as his large hands began to gently run over her body. The feel of his loving touch through the silk was almost overwhelming. He ran his fingers over her torso, neck and arms, shoulders, belly, then breasts. He found her nipples, already erect and began to rub them over and over until she was moaning. "John," she breathed.

"It's soft," he teased. "And also hard." He continued to tease her nipples and then added, "Maybe I'll never open my eyes. Think we can do it in Braille?"

She giggled. "I could lead you to the bedroom no problem, but you'd be missing the best part."

"Oh? What's that?"

"The look on my face." She paused, "Open your eyes."

He did and then his jaw dropped and his mouth opened. "What are you wearing?" he asked.

She giggled again. "I told you, it's one of your presents, well actually, two of them."

Kelly was attired in one of the most outrageously loudly patterned things he had ever seen. It was vivid with color and silky soft to the touch. "That looks like a . . . bloke's robe."

"It is. For you. And for me too, in a way."

"Whatcha mean?'

"Well, I love the feel of it on my skin and I'm pretty sure you'll like the way it feels too. So I got it for you to wear when you're here. Then, when you go, I can put it on and it will smell like you and it will be like you're still here."

He shook his head. "That sounds suspiciously mushy. That's not like you."

She laughed. "You're turning me into a sentimental fool," she admitted. "Not sure if I like it, but . . ."

He smiled. "Do I have to guess what the second one is or are ya gonna . . . show me?"

She giggled again. "Undo the belt."

John pulled the tie open and slid his hands under the silk to open it. He felt bare chest, then bare belly, and then more rich silk. Kelly was wearing . . . boxers? They were men's boxers with pool balls on them. "What's that?"

She giggled. "Boxer shorts, silk ones, also for you. Just 'cause I thought they were silly and I dunno, that if you wore them, you might think about me."

"I don't need any help to think about you. I think about you ALL the time."

"Well, I liked them," she insisted adamantly.

He shook his head. "And here, you had me thinking the present in the bedroom was . . ."

"What? Sexy lingerie? I thought of it, but . . . course I also thought of just tying a bow on myself too!"

"Now that's a present I'm dying to open!"

She twisted around to face him. "I do have some other things for you. Want to open them now?"

He ran his hands over her silk-clad body and a wicked gleam appeared in his eyes. "You know, I think I'd rather just finish unwrapping you. Unless you think I NEED to be opening them."

"Well, there's one that . . ." she jumped off the sofa and grabbed a little box from under the tree. "This one."

John studied the box. It was wrapped in gold paper and quite small. He took it and looking just like his son, shook it. He didn't hear anything so he carefully opened it. It was a black velvet box. A jeweler's box. His eyes opened wide and then he flipped the lid. It was a man's gold Claddagh ring. He recognized it and the significance of it. "Kelly?" he asked softly.

She smiled. "Well, just 'cause I'm not ready for the big step, doesn't mean I'm not serious about you. I am and I wanted you to know . . . well, how much I love you."

He took the ring out of the box and put it on. He'd considered getting her one, but had thought better of it, guessing rightly that it would scare her.

She seemed surprised when John put the ring on his right hand with the heart facing inward. After he put the ring on, he pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her. His hands slipped under the silk robe and ran up her back. She arched against him.

She threw her arms around his neck. "You know about . . . Claddaghs."

He nodded. "Yes. I know what it means, that you gave me one. I hope . . . you did want me to show that I was . . . taken?"

"Yes. Oh, yes. I did. Do. I . . ." she gulped. "John, I'm trying to . . . believe."

He hugged her tight, pulling her close, feeling the silk on his skin, her flesh against his clothes. "I love you. I'll wait until you're ready. Believe in me. Trust me."

"I want too. But . . . it's gonna take some time."

He smiled and brushed his fingers over her cheek. "We have all the time in the world. With every other woman, other than you, it took me forever to make up my mind. Marla had to push me hard and with Caro . . . anyway, I'm finally over the edge and it just figures that I'd find a woman who's . . ."

"Chicken?"

"Slow and careful-like. Who needs to be reassured."

She laughed. "I think you need to . . . reassure me now!"

He laughed with her. "I think I need to love you . . . for hours, perhaps. Just to . . . convince you of my sincerity. To show how . . . unwavering my devotion is."

She giggled and kissed him. He kissed her back, now cupping her face in his hands and caressing her skin. This time, no matter how much she wanted to speed things up, no matter how urgent her need became, he slowed her down.

He held her captive on his lap and kissed her slowly and gently, rubbing his lips on hers, tasting the sweet soft pleasure of the kiss. He refused to be hurried, to be rushed, he wanted to kiss and touch every inch of her, to explore her body in loving detail.

He kissed her for a long time, holding her, loving the feel of her warm squirming body, the silken feel of the robe, the tremble of her arousal. Her arms gripped him, her legs wrapped around him and her body pressed to his. He kissed her with love and with passion, with gratitude and joy. The warmth of the kiss spread through his body, it flowed through his blood like a warm life force. Her lips were soft, hard, her body pliant and responsive. It was like a first kiss, full of wonder and surprise, full of promise.

When he had his fill of her lips and the taste of her mouth, he pulled back and kissed her forehead, eyelids, cheeks and nose. She was writhing and moaning against him, her body fully aroused as was his. Still, he wasn't ready to do anything but make love to her. To bring her to orgasm after orgasm and then take his own release. He kissed her lips once more, brushing them lightly and then he just held her close.

She shivered against him, her body trembling with need. She whispered his name and ran her hands over his shoulders and arms. She tried to reach lower, to touch his erection, to hurry things along, but he grasped her hands, held them tight and whispered, "No, I told you I was gonna love you for hours and I meant it. Tonight it's not about desire or lust, it's about love."

She moaned his name, a prayer and a benediction and gave in.

John began to kiss each inch of her neck. Kelly felt tiny wet erotic kisses, a tickle of soft wet tongue, then a soft furry brush of goatee as he lovingly explored her body. His touch always aroused her, now it was even more powerful, it seemed. For the moment, she let go of all her concerns and just reveled in the tactile sensations.

John knew her body well, but that night; he explored each inch of her throat as if he'd never seen it before. He kissed each freckle on her creamy skin, licked each goosebump of arousal as it appeared until she'd soaked through the silken boxers she'd bought for him. Until he could feel how incredibly aroused she was, as if he were she. Then he kissed lower, finally sliding the silken dressing gown off her shoulders. He tenderly caressed her lovely firm breasts.

The mounds rose high on her chest, the nipples hard and peaked. He ran a thumb lightly over one and she arched, then moaned. He grinned and bent his head. He kissed around the areola and then rubbed his lips across the engorged nipple.

She pressed hard against him and pulled his head closer. He tenderly caressed and kneaded her breasts as she rocked on his lap. He was so hard now, he hurt, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was Kelly's pleasure.

He teased and licked first one nipple, then the other, tantalizing her with the feel of his tongue and mouth. She began to make little gasping sounds of erotic joy that were sensual and marvelous. She continued to rock on his lap, her body feeling like flame.

Finally, he took a nipple in his mouth and began to suck. She groaned, grunted and he could feel her come all over him. Through the silk boxers, even through the trousers he still wore. She was panting and now her nails dug into his head as she humped her sex against his still clothed shaft.

"John," she panted.

He ignored the plea in her voice and continued suckling at her breast. Her nipple tasted like ripe fruit, the other mound fit perfectly into his hand and felt as if it belonged there. He focused all his attention on her breasts, ignoring his own need, ignoring the ache, despite how difficult it was becoming. He wanted to make her come again and then maybe he'd move on.

She continued to rub against him as he switched his mouth to the other breast. He licked and sucked the nipple like a hungry baby; his mouth making soft little sucking sounds as his fingers caressed her. She groaned again, then pressed down so hard he thought he would scream from the pressure, then her face went slack and she came hard, soaking him once more.

He released her nipple and looked at her. Her eyes were glazed, her mouth was open and her body was shuddering with pleasure. He smiled, then wrapped his arms around her and said, "I'm taking you to bed."

"Anywhere you want to go," she panted, "is fine with me."

He laughed and carefully stood up, holding her shaking body in his arms. He carried her into the bedroom and laid her gently on the bed. She was still wearing the boxers and he was still fully clothed. He stripped off the shirt, tie and trousers he'd worn to her folks, but left on his briefs. He was still uncomfortable, but he knew it was the best way to ensure Kelly didn't take control of the lovemaking. She lay on the bed, still panting, her breasts rolling on her chest. He joined her and ran his hands over her body. She shivered from his touch.

"John?" she said his name as a question.

He smiled, kissed her lips and then ran his hands to her belly. She arched her pelvis up, begging for his attention there. He moved back to her breasts and caressed them again, then began to kiss and lick his way to her belly button.

She was moaning again and her body was moving, her hips thrusting and her legs opening. John slid his hands down and then underneath her, deftly pulling the boxers off. Now she was naked and his.

He moved lower on the bed, down to her feet and began to massage them. Then he kissed and licked his way up her legs, until he finally reached her inner thighs. She moaned and opened her legs wide. He smiled and placed wet little kisses on the soft satiny skin. She groaned and her sex jumped toward his mouth. Her hands were clenched at her side, opening and closing. He kissed his way to the juncture between thigh and sex and then ran his tongue along it. She groaned again and arched toward him.

He smiled and moved closer. Her nether lips were open, the red curls wet with arousal and come. He could see her clit throb, like the center of a flower, pink and glowing.

He licked the outer folds of her sex and she moaned, then he slid his tongue inside, touching her clit lightly. She grabbed his head, as if she could no longer control herself and pulled him against her. He inhaled her scent and laughed his breath hot against her heat.

Then he settled in for a feast. He dipped inside her with pleasure, lapping up her juices, helping her create more, his tongue darted and danced within her, sliding in and out, exploring her secrets as if she were the answer to everything. As if he could find the entire world inside her. He teased and nibbled, licked and kissed her until her body was twisting and turning, until he could see her clit grow and throb like a miniature cock, until she was moaning so much he thought she would explode.

Then he began to slowly and delicately lick her bud and she DID explode. She screamed his name, grunted, shoved her pelvis into his face and began to come. Hot liquid flooded his face, her pelvis humped against him, moving up and down convulsively. The spasms shook her whole body and he pulled back to watch. As soon as her spasms eased, he moved back between her legs. Her bud was still engorged. He licked it in slow circles and she began to pant and moan, then he sucked it and she came again, even harder. More juices soaked his face, her body jumped and humped even harder and the sight was so erotic and beautiful he thought he might come himself without ever penetrating her, just from watching her.

She was panting, her chest was heaving, her groin still moving when she managed to say, "John, please, join me. I want to feel you come inside me."

He shook his head as if in doubt. "I dunno. Maybe I haven't reassured you enough."

"You reassure me any more and I'll be dead!"

He laughed and gave in. He slipped off his briefs and released his aching cock. He bent once more to place a kiss on her womanhood and then hovered over her. He grasped his shaft at the base and brushed the tip of the head against her wet and still moving mound.

She groaned and reached to help him. He let her guide him in and then he propped himself up on his arms to look at her beautiful face. He was sheathed inside her hot wetness and it felt like being home. It felt warm, safe and perfect. "I love you," he murmured softly and with wonder.

"I know," she murmured back.

He shook his head and touched her face. "I love all of you, Kel. Not just this, but everything. I love your laugh, your freckles and the way you toss your head when you get mad. I love the way you fight with me and the way you make up with me too. I love how you always try to hide that tiny scar above your left eye and I love the way you bite your lip when you're trying to puzzle something out. I especially love the way you curl around me to sleep. I even love the way you snore."

"I do NOT snore," she snorted indignantly.

He laughed. "You do. And I love it."

"John," she murmured, "you talk too much!"

He laughed again and thrust more deeply inside her. Now he was completely buried, his pelvis pressed to hers. He continued to caress her face as he began to glide slowly out of her. He shifted back until he was almost completely gone and then just as slowly descended back into her depths.

She moaned, pushed up toward him and grabbed his ass cheeks. "John!"

"Long and slow, gentle and tender, tonight," he whispered.

"You're driving me crackers."

"You're already there, luv," he whispered.

She shook her head. "It's YOUR fault!"

"Guilty as charged and happily so. Especially if this is my . . . punishment for the crime."

He continued to stroke her slowly, caressing her face, murmuring his love, until he felt the ache in his loins overwhelm him. He began to move faster, harder, the need for release becoming paramount. Her body felt like hot wet velvet beneath him, encasing him in warmth, in love, in a place where anything was not only possible, but probable.

He stared into her luminous green eyes, overwhelmed by the emotion in them, the love she was reflecting back at him and he felt like the world exploded in his groin. His balls swelled and tightened and he came with a groan of her name.

He collapsed against her as he trembled. He felt her arms encircle him, her heart enfold him as tightly as her sex enfolded his shaft and he knew this was right. Knew nothing would ever be bad again if he had her in his life. He lay his head against her breasts as he felt her hands run through his hair. He nestled in her arms feeling content and happy as if he was a newborn just given life.

She rested beneath him sated and exhausted, holding him tightly. John's full weight was on her and it was a welcome burden, a blessing of love. She held him until his body stilled and his breathing calmed. Then he rolled to his side and held her tight. She traced the muscles in his chest, loving the feel of him, the perfection of his body. "You are amazing," she breathed.

"Nah," he demurred with a yawn.

"You are," she insisted. "I'll admit, I haven't been with that many blokes, but . . . you do something to me. It's just bloody amazing."

"It's love, Kelly. Just a whole lotta love."

She shook her head. "No. It's more than that."

He laughed. "Kelly, that's exactly what it is. It's love and trust. I'm no saint. I've been with . . . well . . . more women than I probably should have, but when love is involved it really does make it something . . . more special."

"I had good sex without love!" she protested.

He laughed. "Kelly, you can have great sex, outstanding sex without love, but . . . what we have . . . it's 'cause we do love each other. It makes everything more so."

"If you say so," she mumbled doubtfully, "all the same you know, you DO have skills."

He laughed. "Skills?" he repeated. "Yes, I suppose you could call them that. You know," he muttered, changing the subject, "I just realized, you never opened the rest of your gifts."

"Tomorrow," she muttered now sleepy. "When I've recovered from your . . . loving affection." Then she curled spoon fashion around him and fell fast asleep.

John turned into her soft warm body and did the same.

They slept quite late Boxing Day morning. Kelly woke first and though mightily tempted to wake her lover, let him sleep. She threw on his new dressing gown and went into the kitchen. She made a pot of coffee having realized he actually preferred it to tea and took it to him. He was lying naked in bed having thrown off the covers. She studied him. He was so lovely to look at.

For a long time she had been grateful she couldn't have children, she never had to worry about pregnancy scares like the rest of her friends, then she'd met Gerald. She'd loved him and been devastated when he'd broken their engagement. After she'd recovered, she'd simply enjoyed herself, determined NEVER to fall in love again. Never to put herself in that position. Then John had come along and before she knew it, she was swept off her feet. She would have loved to have his babies. His son proved how strong his genetic code was. The babies would be so beautiful!

She felt tears well in her eyes at what could never be. How could she do that to him? Keep him from having babies? He said it didn't matter, but it did. She wanted to give him kids. Before she knew it, she was crying and John was awake.

He grabbed the mug of coffee from her hand and put it on the nightstand. Then he grabbed her. "Kelly, what's wrong?"

"I want your babies," she wailed.

"Oh, Kel, I told you, it doesn't matter."

"I know. That's not what . . . I mean, I WANT to have them. And I can't."

It took him a moment to realize this was different. This wasn't about her disappointing him, but about her own disappointment. He held her tight and let her cry. "I'm sorry," he whispered finally.

"Sorry?" she echoed.

"I never thought that . . . you said you were worried that it would bother me. I never thought how you might feel."

"I didn't realize, not until now. John, I wish so badly . . ."

"There's no way? Not for me," he added quickly, "I'd be happy as long as I had you. But because you seem to want to."

She studied him. "None. I've had all the tests. It's just not possible. I can't get preggers and even if I could, I couldn't carry a baby to term, not without serious risk to the baby. That's why in-vitro won't work. The damage is just too bad."

"How does something like this happen? You take such good care of yourself."

"They don't know. Da would probably say it's a judgment from God for my wanton ways."

"Kelly! You don't believe that, do ya?"

"I dunno what to believe. I never thought . . . I . . . shit, John. I dunno if I can . . ." she gulped twice. "I never thought it would hurt this bad. But it does."

"Oh, Kelly," he murmured. He held her tight as she began to cry again. She sobbed for a long time and then finally seemed to get her emotions under control.

"I'm sorry. I'm sure this wasn't how you wanted to spend the morning."

"It's all right. I'd rather you let me comfort you, than have you have to beat the crap out of the heavy bag. That was part of it, wasn't it?"

"Figured that out, did ya?"

"Kelly, I'm here. You can't run me off. You can't push me away. I love you. So just talk to me, eh?"

She shook her head in wonder. "I don't deserve you."

"You do. I'm no prize. When I think of everything I've put you through since we met, I wonder why you stay."

"I love you," she insisted simply. "All the other stuff is just . . ." she waved her hands in the air, "stuff."

"Christ, Kelly, and you think I'm amazing? When I think about . . ."

She put her fingers over his lips. "No more thinking. For either of us. Let's make love. It's a much nicer way to wake up."

He laughed. "Girl, it took me forever to get you here and now you never want to stop."

"The only true advantage to being unable to have kids. All the sex I want with no risk. For a good Catholic girl, that's as close to heaven as you can get."

He laughed and then kissed her. A long time later they lay curled in bed, John's head was cradled between her breasts. Kelly stroked his damp hair and smiled. "So," she asked, "what shall we do with the rest of today?"

"Open the rest of our presents and . . ." he paused, rolled and sat up. He studied her face. "Fancy a wee drive?"

'Where?"

"Up north. I've been thinking about Mama Abba and the iwi. I was thinking I'd like to show you off, let them meet the woman I love."

Kelly sucked in her breath. "John, are you sure?"

He nodded. "I went up a few weeks ago, I wanted to . . . test the waters again. I've still only met half the family, but . . . she said Boxing Day is a free-for-all at Sadie's. That I could maybe meet Polu without him realizing, except of course, one look and he'll know. I saw some pictures of my father, the resemblance is remarkable. So . . . still, I think I want to try."

"Maybe you should go alone."

"You don't want to meet them?"

"I DO. I just don't want to . . . get in the way. If they're not big on mixed blood, how will they . . . I'm pure, but pure Pakeha."

He laughed. "Polu is the one with the problem, no one else. I don't think what you are will matter to any of them. I want you with me. Besides," he added with a rueful grin, "I need you to hold my hand and give me the courage to do it. I'm . . . afraid."

"Afraid? Of what? You're the bravest man I know."

"If I show up without a woman, Mama Abba will be throwing second and third cousins at me the whole time. She'll try to marry me off. The woman absolutely terrifies me. And you're the only one I want."

Kelly couldn't help but giggle. She didn't believe him for a second, the bit about being scared, but she loved that he wanted her to believe it. "In that case, I will come. Have to keep you out of the clutches of all those exotic, gorgeous Maori girls."

"None of them can hold a candle to you," he insisted.

"Spoken like a bloke in love, but it isn't true. Still, if you like the way I look, I can live with it."

"When can I live with it?"

"What?"

"Just 'cause we're not married doesn't mean . . . Willy and Tam live together."

"John, let's leave that for another time. If we're going visiting we need to get moving."

He shrugged and let it drop; he'd planted the seed.

They dressed in light summer clothes and decided to take her car. He thought it might impress his rellies. They didn't say much on the drive up; each wrapped in their own thoughts.

John had her park near the pub and suggested they stop for a drink first. She could see he was clearly nervous, a new image for him. She'd never seen John less than sure of himself, less than confident and assured. Even when they had first met, even that day in Kyle's office when she'd confronted him about his duplicity, he hadn't been nervous. When he'd told her about Eric and everything else, he'd been afraid of being rejected, but not nervous. It was utterly charming to see her big strong handsome bloke trembling.

She slipped her arm through his and squeezed. "Right here," she confirmed. "Let me know when you need your . . . hand held."

He grinned ruefully. "Guess you found me out, eh?"

"I'm glad," she insisted. "Thank god you aren't perfect!"

"Told ya so!"

She laughed and they went into the pub. Heads swiveled as they entered, a few eyes widened and then everyone went back to minding their own business. John got a beer and they sat at a table in the corner. Kelly said nothing, just took in her surroundings. Despite living in New Zealand all her life, she knew little of Maori small town life. It was like stepping back a century or two. The pub was full and noisy; almost all men and they were laughing and chatting in their own language. It had a lovely cadence to it.

John worked on his beer, his hands shaking slightly. He had only been partly joking when he said he was scared. He WAS worried about what his . . . grandfather would do at their first meeting. He wanted very much to introduce Eric to his great grandmother, but not with a chance of the boy being rejected. He saw his uncle, Saul, Sadie's husband, saunter into the bar, apparently to get some supplies for the party. He nodded to John, but didn't come over. After he paid for his bottles, he looked again in John's direction and then walked out.

"Be right back," John muttered. He hurried outside to find his uncle waiting.

"So you decided to visit?" Saul declared with a grin.

John nodded. "Is . . .?"

"They're all there. Mama didn't want to fuss, so as usual, she made Sadie do it. Come to the house. And bring the girl with ya. Mama will be pleased."

John grinned. "You reckon? What about . . . Polu?"

"He's there, but . . . there's lots of people." He paused and added, "Can't tell you not to worry, but . . ."

John nodded and returned to the bar to get Kelly. They walked to the small white house where his aunt lived. The party could be heard from blocks away. The laughter and music, the sound of voices raised in conversation and argument. When they arrived, John took a deep breath and Kelly's hand. She smiled reassuringly and held tight.

John pushed in the door to find at least forty people crammed into the small house. He glanced around wildly looking for someone he recognized. Gina, his cousin spotted him. She waved, strolled over and looked him up and down. She licked her lips and murmured, "Well, look who came to visit!"

"Gina," he croaked. He gestured to Kelly. "This is . . . Kelly," he mumbled.

Kelly smiled sweetly and gripped John's hand tighter. "Gidday," she murmured.

Gina laughed. "Someone caught you good and proper, cousin?" John nodded mutely. "Mama will be happy. But me . . ." she sighed, then shrugged. Finally she grinned and said, "Come on, I'll take you to Mum."

Gina's Mum was sitting in a corner with his Aunt Sadie. As soon as Sadie saw him she jumped up, pulled him into her arms and wrapped him in a big hug, taking Kelly in as well. "Mama said you might come. And who is this lovely girl with you?"

"Kelly, Kelly Callahan," she said. "Ma'am."

"Call me Aunt Sadie. If John's brought you to see us, you'll be one of the family soon."

"Yes, Ma . . . Aunt Sadie," Kelly replied primly. She studied the woman. She was lovely though obviously in her fifties. She had the happiest open face Kelly had ever seen. But then as she glanced around the room, she saw most of the family looked like that. None of them wore fancy clothes, all of them looked as if they worked hard, but . . . there was an air of joy, of pleasure in living that she envied. She saw several little kids playing with a train and her heart gave a leap and then dropped to her stomach. She felt John put a protective arm around her as if he read her thoughts.

"I'm glad you came. Polu's out back, so you're safe for a bit. Mama's in the kitchen holding court. Come with me." Sadie dragged them through the room, not letting her progress be impeded by questions. Several men and women gave John pleased smiles and patted him as they passed. They all looked with curiosity at Kelly, but apparently knew better than to try to stop Sadie on the move. She reminded Kelly of a battleship going full steam ahead.

They entered a crowded kitchen filled with the sound of laughter. Sadie again parted the crowd and pushed her charges forward. "Mama, look who I brought you."

The old woman looked up and when she saw John and that he had his arm around a girl, she got tears in her eyes. She made as if to get up from the chair, but John stopped her. He released Kelly and bent down to brush his lips over his grandmother's cheek. She shook her head and then opened her arms. He knelt and hugged her for a moment, then straightened, pulled Kelly over and introduced them.

Mama Abba took Kelly's hand, studied her face, and then looked at her hand again. She traced the lines in Kelly's palm and then stared at the girl. "Do you believe in fate?" Mama Abba asked her.

Kelly's eyes opened wide. "Never thought about it one way or the other," she answered honestly.

Mama nodded. "Good. You take care of him, 'cause he needs it." She turned to look at John. "She'll do. So don't let her get away."

He laughed. "I don't intend to. I love her."

"I can see that." She paused. "John, go talk to your Uncle Billy. He's in the back."

"Mama Abba," he began in a warning tone.

"Don't argue," she muttered. "I'm boss around here, at least when Polu's not around. I won't bite."

Kelly looked at the old woman and then at John. "It's all right. Go."

"You sure?"

She nodded. "Yes. Do what she says."

Mama Abba smiled. "It will be fine, John. Trust me. Trust HER."

He shook his head and made his way to the back door. He turned and saw his grandmother had pulled Kelly closer and shooed everyone else away. Their heads were bent together and suddenly they looked like conspirators. The sight filled his heart with joy although he didn't know why. He smiled and stepped into the yard.

Kelly stared at John's grandmother with wonder. The look on her face was quite astonishing. She was grinning at Kelly with unrestrained pleasure and more than a little curiosity. She gestured for Kelly to come very close and she whispered, "It will all work out."

Kelly just stared, unable to speak. She had heard tales of . . . mysticism among the Maori. Their religious beliefs were complicated with a system of spirits and gods to whom they prayed. She was sure it made sense to them, but . . . then with a blinding flash of insight it occurred to her that Catholicism contained its own rather mystical worships too. There were saints to pray to for almost anything, so maybe to the uninitiated that was just as mystical. Life really was a circle, she realized suddenly, no matter how you journeyed, you always ended up back where you started. She smiled at the old woman.

Mama Abba studied the girl. She was lovely and healthy, but Mama could see the sorrow in her. The pain in the lines of her hand. Mama sighed. John would never get her great-grandchildren on this one. Still he loved her and she loved him. That should be enough for them. Mama smiled and declared, "It really doesn't matter to him. He's very like his father was. When he falls, he falls hard, no matter the consequences."

"Consequences?" Kelly echoed dumbly. There was no way for the old woman to know. John would never have told her.

"I can see in your hand, in your palm, you're barren. He won't care. All he wants is you."

Kelly's eyes widened and she moved back involuntarily as if she was frightened.

"Don't be scared," Mama Abba insisted. "I'm not a prophet or seer or a mystic either. I've read palms all my life. It was a gift I was born with. Just as you have your gifts to give him, even if you can't give him children."

"Gifts?"

"The gift of laughter and joy. The gift of love. When John first came to me, he was full of sadness and sorrow. He didn't smile and he was deep in mourning. But since he met you, he's undergone a change. At first, he started to smile and now? He's full of joy and love. His heart is open and I can tell he laughs again. You healed him of the hurt, the sorrow and I love you already for that."

Kelly shook her head. "That wasn't me," she muttered in an undertone.

"Yes it was. IS," Mama Abba insisted.

"No. It's . . ." Kelly couldn't finish. The pain of what she couldn't give him mixed with the jealousy of what Shay had.

"His son?" Mama Abba guessed. At Kelly's shocked look, she added, "He told me when he was last here. I know about Eric. Yes, it's true, the boy started the healing, but YOU, completed it. You made him whole again AND gave him something that his Caro never could."

"She could give him children. No matter what he says, he DOES want them."

"Perhaps, but she was not right for him. He never had the gift of joy with her. He's told me quite a bit about their relationship and yours. Kelly, with you he laughs, he loves, he feels free in a way he never felt with her. He doesn't feel the walls, boundaries or constraints that he felt about committing himself before. He wants to commit himself to you and he . . . despite his proposing to Caro before she was killed, he wasn't truly in love with her. He loved her, yes, but without the extra joy that he has with you."

Kelly gaped at John's grandmother. "How do you know this?"

"It's all over him, what he thinks, what he feels. I can see it and so can anyone who sees the two of you together. You belong with each other. So stop fighting my grandson and give yourself to him body and soul."

"I have," she answered faintly.

Mama Abba eyed her warily. "No, you haven't." As Kelly attempted to interrupt she raised her hand and stopped her. "Perhaps you've given your body, but you've not said yes with your soul. You know what he wants. He has no reservations. You're the one holding back. Let go and give in."

"I'm afraid," Kelly whispered.

Mama Abba took her hand. "I know. We all are."

"He's not!"

"He is, but he's like his father that way too. He'll risk anything for love. It's the bravest thing I've ever seen."

"He'll come to regret it."

"No, he won't. You don't understand him very well, despite how you feel. John is very strong. He knows what he wants and he knows the cost. If you look carefully at his life, you'll see that he's always been prepared to do whatever he had to, to get what he wants. And he's always paid the price without question."

Kelly pondered that in light of what she knew of John. Was it true? Could he really be counted on two years, five years and ten years down the road not to regret being with her? How would he feel if Willy and Tam had kids? How would he react when he spent holidays with her family? When everyone around them had small ones, except them. Was it John with the problem or was it her? Would she be the one who would regret it and hurt so badly that she couldn't stand it? She shook her head. "It's too big a decision. Too many choices . . . too many variables. It's a risk . . . a big risk . . . and . . ."

"You're not ready," Mama acknowledged with a sigh. "Kelly, don't give up on him. He needs you, even more than you need him. If you believe nothing else I said, please do believe that."

"I want to believe you. I want to believe him, too. But . . . it's all happened so fast. And there's been so much . . ."

Mama Abba nodded. "John's father met John's mother and knew right away. It took him a bit longer to convince her to marry him. It's obviously going to take John a bit longer than that to convince you."

Kelly nodded and then asked, "Tell me about John's father. He never talks about him."

As Mama Abba began to relate stories of Kenny to Kelly, John was watching his grandfather hold court in the backyard.

John had entered the yard to find ten men standing over a barbecue pit. His Uncle Billy was leading an argument with the oldest man there, his grandfather and Uncle Billy's dad. John watched with amusement as the argument grew to include all ten of the men. Polu let each man have his say and then did exactly as he wanted. Several of them gave good-natured laughs and shrugs, Uncle Billy among them. John stayed out of his grandfather's line of sight and when Uncle Billy was free, moved to join him.

"Good to see ya," Uncle Billy admitted. He glanced guiltily at Polu, but the chief was busy at the pit.

"Mama Abba sent me to you. Think she has a plan?"

His uncle shook his head. "She and God both work in their own mysterious ways."

John shrugged. He had no idea what he was supposed to do, so he simply waited. Several of the other men came over and introduced themselves, assuming John was a friend of one of the "girls." John left the assumption in place. The men were curious but apparently, since Billy had performed the introduction they didn't ask questions. John kept quiet simply watching Polu act like chief. Finally, his grandfather seemed to notice him.

Polu's eyes widened in recognition and then he shook the image away as if it was impossible. Still, he studied John for long time as if he could read who he was by the way he looked and stood. Finally, he made his way over. Despite his age, he was big and muscular. His body had not yet run to fat, but still moved gracefully. He was a powerful man as chief and he had the physical presence to match it. John knew the trick of using size to intimidate, so it didn't bother him. What he hadn't expected though, was such a visceral reaction to the man. Polu exuded strong masculinity and an even stronger strength of personality. To be accepted by him was to BE someone. To be rejected . . . was to be no one. John knew he could never subject Eric to this, not unless he was sure of his son's reception. Unlike his son, he could handle whatever form of negativity Polu threw at him, but Eric's fragile young ego, though now stronger, would not be able to. John swallowed hard and waited for the explosion.

"Who are you?" Polu snapped. The question, rudely asked, was meant to be menacing.

"John," he answered. He stood his ground.

"John who?" Polu demanded.

John looked at him. He decided to push it. "What difference does it make?"

"He wants to know your family name," Billy hissed in his ear.

John knew that. He also knew that this was a test of wills and that he had something to prove. He stood staring evenly at his grandfather.

The old man studied him. He looked at John's face, his bone structure, and his build, then looked into his eyes. The recognition was there, but it was clear that the old man wasn't sure why. "You some shirttail relation of mine?" Polu asked finally.

John shrugged. "Perhaps. Again, what difference does it make?"

Now Polu shrugged. "I like to know my family."

"Do you?" John asked, suddenly angry. "Somehow I don't think that's true of ALL your kin."

Polu got it then. His eyes widened, his mouth pursed and he began to get angry as well. "You're . . . Kenny's by-blow?"

That did it. John exploded. "My parents were married. For you to imply that my Mum . . . no wonder Dad left. No sensible person could talk to you." John clenched his fists and turned on his heel as if to leave.

"Wait." It was spoken very softly, but the yard was still as everyone was listening.

John turned back, his body still trembling with rage. "Why?" he spat. "You wanna hurl more insults at my Mum? At me?"

"No. Let me . . ." Polu paused and then he admitted, "I heard you saw Mama Abba and," he gestured around, "some of the others. They said you were . . . worthy. But you had yet to beard me in my den. I needed to see if . . ." Polu swallowed. "You're every bit the man your father was," he muttered.

There was bitterness in his tone but also to his surprise, John thought he heard pride.

Polu continued, "Your father was . . ." again the man swallowed. "I was sad when he left."

"Too sad to ever speak to him again? Too sad to go to his funeral? Too sad to allow his son to know his own family?" John hurled the words with an anger and bitterness that surprised him.

"Yes," Polu said simply. "I could not expect . . . the tribe to obey me, when my own son refused to. If I let him do as he chose, I would've had to let the others do as well. I understand you were a police officer. You must know what happens when discipline departs. Chaos."

John gawked at him. "You sacrificed your son for the sake of the tribe?" he snapped sarcastically.

"I'm the chief. The iwi is my responsibility. Nothing else matters. My feelings don't matter. Not then and not now."

"So I suppose you'd do it again?"

"If I had to, yes. Does that really surprise you? Haven't you done things because . . . you had no choice?"

He'd nailed John there. John had done too many things for reasons he wasn't proud of. Too many things because he thought he had no choice. Were there some he would change? Probably hundreds of them, and yet, all those choices had led to this moment in his life.

"Yes. But I never . . ." John paused, what he'd been about to say he realized, was a lie. He had hurt people on purpose. Had done some things because . . . "So . . . you've met me."

Polu studied him and then began to laugh. "Yes, I have. You've walked in; bold as brass and made me talk to ya. Made me admit things I shouldn't have, at least not in front of them."

John studied his grandfather. Polu stood tall and straight as befitted a chief. His back was rigid, his posture firm, his stance seemed to say, I am in charge here. You have to win me over. Except John knew suddenly, almost instinctively, that he had won. Polu would never admit being wrong, being sorry for what he did. To do so would weaken his position as chief. Yet John could see, in the old man's eyes, that he WAS sorry. Now, it was up to John to save face for both of them.

John stood there for long time trying to stare the old man down; letting the other men see the battle of wills and letting them see the old man prevail. Finally John asked, "Now what? We've . . . met." He paused and forced himself to sound conciliatory. "I'd like to know the family, if you'll . . . allow it."

Polo laughed again. "You've already managed to sneak in and meet most of them. Don't suppose I can stop it now."

John heard his Uncle Billy breathe a sigh of relief from behind him. John nodded and stated gravely, "Thank you."

Polu shook his head. "Doesn't mean I'll . . . accept you."

But John knew it did. That he had been accepted, only Polu would not ever admit it publicly. Still, John could bring Eric up one day and that was the important thing. His son would get a sense of family history and meet his great-grandmother who would pour more love over him than anyone had a right to expect. John nodded again, turned and walked away. He went back into the house and found Kelly still deep in conversation with his grandmother.

He watched them for a moment and then inched closer to listen. "Kenny was always strong. Even when he was little."

"You talking about my father?" John asked with surprise.

Kelly jumped up. "Mama Abba was telling me about him. Hope you don't mind."

"Not all. Tell me too!"

Kelly laughed and put her arms around him. She whispered, "You look pale. Are you all right?"

"Fine, just slightly worse for wear," he mumbled.

She hugged him and felt the tenseness in his shoulders. "What happened?"

"I'll tell you later."

She nodded and let it go. She touched his face lightly and then snuggled against him for moment. "I love you AND your family."

He pulled her tight and hugged her close, then he released her. He looked at her face and then at his grandmother's. "What have you two been up to?" he asked suspiciously.

Mama Abba smiled innocently. "Why nothing, John. Just getting to know one another."

Kelly grinned at him. "No worries. We've had a lovely chat. I told you it would be all right."

He shook his head. "I don't believe either of you."

The rest of the afternoon and early evening passed in a happy noisy blur. Since Polu had granted his "right" to be there, John met the rest of the extended family as himself. His Mum had been right after all. Only Polu had ever cared about John's birth, and that was less an issue of his birth than it was his son's disobedience. The rest of his relatives were warm and welcoming and they welcomed Kelly as well.

When the couple finally took their leave, just after dark, they were full of good food and warmth. They were quiet on the ride back to Auckland, although Kelly had requested John drive her car. He didn't know why, but he was pleased. She drove like a maniac and it always made him nervous. This time Kelly was the one who leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes.

When they arrived at her house she suggested, "Come in with me. Spend the night."

"Two nights in a row?" he repeated.

"Yeah. Like couples in love often do."

He smiled and acquiesced.

New Year's came and went and life started to return to normal. John's business picked up, Eric went back to school and John had Gavin start the legal machinery to claim his son.

Kelly seemed to come to grips with things as well; at least in so far as their relationship was concerned. Her passion and desire for him was just as wild, but was now tempered by a softness, a love that seemed more genuine. Whatever his grandmother had said to her and he was convinced she HAD said something, it seemed to turn the trick. He didn't feel any walls between them, no more secrets and no more boundaries. They were together in all ways, except . . . she still was not ready for them to take the bigger step. At least she hadn't said so and true to his word, he hadn't pushed it. But as the time for Willy and Tam's wedding drew closer, he once again broached the subject.

They were at his home that night, they'd spent part of the day going on a "double" date with Eric and Linda. John could tell at first that Linda felt odd about being with Eric and his coach, but Kelly had behaved so like a teenage girl, giggling and whispering, that Linda had been charmed. It was clear she was full of questions however about Eric and John's relationship and finally his son had explained. Linda had been surprised, and then she'd given her approval, which seemed to please Eric immensely.

It had been odd and wonderful to spend time like that with his son and John realized Francis was right. None of the other father's would've been asked to double like that. It was because they were friends first, rather than parent-child that allowed this kind of easy camaraderie. They'd seen a film called Jubilee, set in a small northern town, and it led Eric to ask questions about his Maori relatives. It gave John the opening he wanted to suggest a visit.

Now he and Kelly sat cuddled on the sofa, relaxing. She lay across him, her head on his shoulder, her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close feeling warm and happy. He knew that this constant joy was a gift and one he wouldn't give up without a fight. "Today was fun, eh?" he asked tentatively.

Kelly giggled. "Choice. Eric's such a great kid and Linda's just adorable. It's clear she adores him too and not just 'cause he's a handsome bloke like his Da."

"You think I'm handsome, do ya?"

She giggled again. "Prettiest thing I've ever seen. And I'm not alone in that. You turn heads wherever you go."

He flushed. "Kelly . . ."

She laughed. "I know you don't notice. It's a good thing too. 'Cause I'd hate to have to be fighting over you."

"You'll never have to. I'm not the kind to stray."

She looked at him. "That's not really true. You told me yourself that you were married when you were with Sonya." Before he could protest, she added, "But I'm not Marla and you're not that John. Besides I'll never give you reason. I promise to take care of ALL your . . . needs."

"Kelly, I'd never do that again. I was so fucked up and things were such a mess."

"I know. You don't have to tell me. I trust you."

"How much?"

"How much what?"

"How much do you trust me?"

She looked at his eyes. They were focused on her with intensity. His brow was furrowed and his lovely mouth pursed. "With my life."

"Good. Then . . . can we talk . . . about . . . the future?"

She sighed. "John, this is the future. You and me together. It's as much of a future as I need."

"You know I want more."

"I know you do. But I don't know why. I love you, you love me. Why does it have to be . . . more? It's not like there's a reason . . . to make it legal."

"You don't think so?" he mumbled. "You think the only reason to get married is to . . . have babies?"

"Well, truly, John, why else bother?"

"Because I want to!" he exclaimed.

"I understand that," she replied dryly. "But why?"

"You want a reason?" he snorted. "What the bloody hell more do I need than I love you?"

"That's very nice, but, it's hardly a reason. Marriage, as you well know involves much more than that. And if you decide you made a mistake, well, as you also know, it's more difficult to get out of. Why not just leave things as they are? They're good, aren't they?"

"They're bloody wonderful, but it's not enough. I want to go to sleep with you every night and wake up with you every morning. I want to watch you undress and wash your back in the shower. I want to feed you soup when you're ill and help you celebrate when you're well. I want everything you are to become as much a part of me as it can. The only way I know to ensure that is for us to be married."

His words stunned her. She opened her mouth to speak and found she couldn't. It was more than a proposal, it was a plea so deep and profound, a wish so devoutly made that it had more impact on her than the words of a marriage ceremony ever could. He wanted her with a single-mindedness of purpose that had nothing to do with sex. He wanted the agape part of love with as much passion as eros. It was astonishing and overwhelming and she didn't know what to say. All of her wanted to say yes except one tiny part of her that was still afraid. She sat there staring at him, trembling and shaking, unable to answer. He watched her and could see she was fighting some kind of inner battle and realized to say anything more would be a mistake. She had to work this out on her own so he waited.

The night before the wedding, Kelly joined Tam and some of Tam's friends for a "girls" night. A "hen" party the blokes called it. The blokes were also going out. John promised Kelly he wouldn't get too drunk and she almost believed him. Still, they'd been together over three months and she'd never seen him drink to excess.

Willy promised Tam the same. Tam had laughed knowingly and just reminded him what time they needed to be at the restaurant. Since she was officially a widow they could be married in the church, but neither she nor Willie wanted that. Her Dad was coming up for the wedding. He'd fallen as much in love with Willy on their first meeting as she had. Her Dad was already in town and planned to join Willy, John, and the others. She knew Willy worried her father would think less of him if he misbehaved and she hadn't the heart to tell him that her Dad would probably get the wildest and drunkest of all.

Kelly was looking forward to the chance to get to know Tam a little better. After their first meeting, she and Tam had gotten together twice more, once to shop for Kelly's dress and once before Willy came to buy the ring. Though Tam trusted Willy, she also knew him and she wanted to make sure Willy didn't purchase more diamond than she needed. Kelly had understood and when Willy came, Kelly had a nice selection to show him. She guided him gently to the ring Tam favored and cut him a good deal. She didn't tell Tam which one he picked, only that Tam would be pleased.

Kelly met Tam and her five friends at a little pub near Red Baron Bikes. They had one drink and then began to move on. The women went from pub to pub having drinks and dancing. Finally they ended up at the waterfront pub were Tam had met Willy. The girls were all tipsy, except Kelly who hadn't touched a drop, but none of them were out of control. Kelly drank orange juice. As they sat at a table near the jukebox, Tam offered to get Kelly a drink and Kelly agreed. When the drink came, she was so thirsty; she drank half of it down without thinking. "There was vodka in that," she muttered.

Tam looked surprised. "Well, yeah, it's a screw . . . driver."

Kelly giggled. "Tam, I don't . . . oh what the hell!" She downed the rest of drink. She could feel the alcohol surge through her system with unaccustomed speed.

Tam's eyes widened and then she asked, "Want another?"

Kelly grinned. "Why not?" She didn't drink because of her Da, but . . . just once, it couldn't hurt.

Tam came back with a second screwdriver and Kelly drank it halfway down again, then she began to giggle.

"What's so funny?" Tam asked.

Kelly snorted, "Nothing. Everything. You and me. John and Willy. Ever notice how different and how alike they are?"

Tam laughed. "Yeah. The two of them . . . peas in a pod. Big strong blokes with hearts of . . . mush."

"Well, as long as it's only their hearts that get mushy, I say we keep them," Kelly muttered.

Tam laughed. "I admit, I have wondered about John 'cause he's so . . ."

"Big?" Kelly giggled. She gestured with her hands like a fisherman describing the one that got away.

Tam dissolved in laughter. "Willy too!"

Now Kelly giggled harder. "John's really hairy too. I love that, like a bear."

"Willy too. See, they are alike."

"You think they talk about us?" Kelly asked.

Tam shrugged. "Probably. They're blokes. Maybe not like we're talking. I can't see John telling Willy about . . . details, but . . ."

Kelly giggled. "He'd better not! Not if ever wants . . . details again!"

Tam began shake with laughter. "When we first met, I wondered if you two were gonna be okay. But whatever was going on, it seemed to get fixed."

Kelly gulped, swallowed and then reached for the rest of her drink. She sucked it down and then admitted, "Had nothing to do with sex. That parts always been choice."

Tam heard her distress and immediately changed the subject. "I bet. John's got a mouth on him. When I first met him, I wanted to kiss him, just to see."

"John's got a talented . . . mouth," Kelly admitted.

Tam giggled. "A gentleman is he?"

Kelly nodded, felt the vodka course through her blood and the music suddenly filtered in. "Let's dance," she said.

"Dance?" Tam repeated.

"Dance! It's your last chance for freedom, let's be wild and misbehave."

Tam laughed and acquiesced.

While Kelly and Tam were doing some female bonding, the blokes were on the town. They'd been to six pubs and each seemed more boring than the last. Despite the joy of the occasion, Willy and John weren't really having much fun. It occurred to them both that given the choice, they'd rather be home with their girls than drinking in pubs.

It was a milestone of immense proportion and finally Willy and John snuck away and wandered on to the waterfront. They were both a little worse for wear, but not nearly as pissed as they used to get. They stood together, near where John used to live and looked at the water.

Willy stared at John for a moment and then asked, "So, bro, any last words of wisdom before I take the plunge?"

John shook his head. "Mate, I'm no expert on this. You love her, she loves you, be happy."

Willy laughed. "Sounds wise to me."

"Wise ass more likely."

"What's up with you? You don't seem . . . you like Tam dontcha?"

"Willy, I'm happy for ya, I am. But I'm . . . jealous, too."

"Jealous?" Willy echoed doubtfully. John nodded. "Why? I thought you and Kelly were okay."

John shrugged. "She won't marry me."

Willy's eyes widened. "She said no?"

John looked at his friend. "She won't say yes or no, well, she says no, but . . . Will, it's too fucking complicated to explain. And it's the night before your wedding. Let's table it, eh? Just get pissed and shoot pool."

Willy awkwardly patted John's shoulder. "It'll happen for you, if it's meant to be. She loves you, that I DO know."

John sighed. "I know. Anyways . . . pub's right around the corner. Let's say we go there and . . . tie one on. It's the right thing to do."

Willy grinned and said, "Just like the old days. You and me and a bottle of Jack."

John grinned back.

Kelly was quickly losing control. Unused to alcohol and feeling wildly reckless, she unbuttoned her blouse and she was gyrating next to a tall bloke she didn't know. She was having fun, but in a sort of weird outside herself way. She loved to dance and she realized she and John had never done that. Had to correct that at the wedding. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tam dancing with some bloke. She was laughing.

The music changed and the bloke grabbed her. She wasn't sure she wanted a slow dance, but she decided to go with it. It was a mistake. The next thing she knew she was being ripped out of his arms and John, her John, was throwing a punch. A very short brawl ensued in which John got a cut lip, black eye and sore knuckles. Willy got a broken nose, a black eye and a terrible scolding.

They were lucky no one called the cops. Kelly clucked at John, like a hen at her chick, as they walked to find coffee and food. "What bloody hell was that about?" she repeated over and over.

John felt his head and his hand throb. He held a now bloody cloth against his lip. "What the bloody hell did you think you were doing?" he snapped back.

"I was having fun," she snorted defensively.

"You were dancing with another bloke," he yelled.

"So?"

John stopped. He stared at her. Her eyes looked a little glassy and her face was flushed. Had she been drinking? "What do you mean, so?"

She stared back at him. "Why did you have to hit him?"

"He wasn't . . . you were . . . Kelly, you're mine!"

"You were . . . jealous?" she echoed skeptically.

He nodded, almost embarrassed. It HAD been a stupid thing to do. But the sight of her in someone else's arms, especially when she wouldn't marry him, had ignited a rage in him that he'd almost forgotten was there.

"John," she said his name slowly, "you've no reason to be jealous. It was just a dance."

"Kelly, I . . ." he swallowed hard. "You never dance with me."

She laughed softly. "I know. That's 'cause you've never taken me dancing. I was thinking we had to fix that. At the wedding."

"At the wedding?" he echoed with surprise.

"Tomorrow." She glanced at her watch. "Well, today. At Tam and Willy's wedding."

"Not ours?" he asked with disappointment.

She reached up and touched his face lightly. "Oh, John, please, not now. I love you, but . . ." she sighed. "I'm sorry you got jealous. It didn't mean anything."

"I want us to be settled," he insisted stubbornly. "Married. So I don't have to worry."

"If you think marriage will do that, then you're wrong. That kind of sureness doesn't come from a ring. It comes from inside. Getting married won't change anything, you should know that. All it will do is put rings on our fingers."

"That's not true!" he growled. He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. "Marriage will mean we're together forever. That you belong to me and I belong to you. It will tell the world we're taken, that we belong somewhere and to someone. It sends a message."

She gasped first at his embrace and second from his words. They smacked of a kind of possessiveness that she'd never thought she'd hear from him. Before, when he'd mentioned marriage it involved wanting to be with her, but this . . . this was new and not altogether pleasing. "John, you can't own me. And I don't want to own you. That's not my idea of marriage. Sharing our lives is one thing, taking . . . possession of them is something else. You can't . . ."

"Damn it, Kelly, I want you with me. Maybe I'm not explaining this well. I had a lot to drink and my head hurts. I just want us to be together. To live in the same place, to wake up the morning and go to sleep at night. I wanna take your hand, want people to see us and be amazed at how in love we are. I want my son to see us together and know it's possible for a man and woman to live and love together. I want to grow old, side-by-side, to watch Eric get older. I want family parties and family picnics. I want everything that it's possible to have and I want it with you. If that means I wanna own you, then so be it. But I'd never keep you from doing anything you wanted to do. I just . . ." he stopped. He started to run out of words and he knew he was getting it all wrong. The look on her face was confused and scared. His words weren't having the reaction he hoped. He held her even tighter. "Kelly, I know I'm getting this all wrong. But I'm running out of ways to tell you. Can't you help me out here?"

"John," she whispered, "I know you love me. And I know how much. Can't you just give it time? Why are you in such a rush?"

Why indeed? Why did he feel such urgency about marriage? "I dunno. Maybe 'cause . . . I'm afraid, too."

"Afraid?"

"Kelly, after Caro died I never thought I could love again. I was in so much pain. I was miserable, alone and so angry I saw no point to my life. I thought maybe I should end it. Then I found Eric and met you and everything seemed to turn around. But life is short and happiness at least in my life, has always been in short supply. But with you . . . I feel . . . I feel like anything is possible. I'm happy, really happy, I'm glad to be alive, and I . . ." he stopped. Her eyes had gone very wide and her mouth was open in shock.

Kelly stared at him. Of all the things he could have said, of all the things he HAD said, this was reminiscent of what his grandmother had told her. She said Kelly gave him the gift of joy, the gift of being happy. She'd never had the problem of being miserably unhappy, at least not in the long-term, but she knew he had been. Knew that his life was full of things that caused him pain. Now she had a chance to give him a different life, if she would just take it.

"John," she swallowed hard. She looked into his eyes and saw the future there. He wanted only her and the joy she gave him. The love they shared that could, she knew, continue to grow stronger. They wouldn't be without their problems, of that she was certain. They were both strong-willed and God only knew how Eric and his Mum would handle the future, but . . .

"I love you," she muttered softly, "and I guess, it will be enough." She paused and then added, "But John, we need to have a rather long engagement."

"What? Are you agreeing to . . ."

She laughed softly. "I give. You win. I will marry you. But NOT right this second."

"You win?" he repeated slowly. He shook his head. "No, Kelly, we BOTH win." He kissed her forehead, which hurt his mouth. "I love you and you can have a decent engagement. Two weeks."

"Six months."

"Three weeks."

"Six months."

"One month."

"Six months."

He laughed. "We can argue about this another time." He studied her eyes. "You don't wanna take it back?"

She shook her head. "No. But I still want time . . . we have a wedding to plan and other things to work out."

"Other things?"

She nodded. "None of which we can do tonight. I have a blazing headache and I'm sure you have one too."

"I'm too happy to hurt." He shouted to Willy, "Hey, bro, she said yes!"

Willy turned and grinned at them.

The wedding went off without a hitch despite the groom's newly broken nose, the best man's black eye and the bride's hangover. Willy and Tam became man and wife and John danced for the first time with his fiancée.

The End

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