Drifter's Bar 2

"Please oh please oh please," she whispered, biting on her lip. She pushed her hand against her brow line and groaned. What was she going to do with her hair? She'd never had to fix her hair before.

The door opened and Carter peered out, smiling at her. "It's for you, T," he chuckled, waving Firefly in. "I think it's an emergency."

As she stepped in, she found Taj looking as immaculate as ever. "Oh, Fifi," Taj gasped, hurrying over. "Stop frowning. You'll make wrinkles."

Firefly held her breath while Taj smoothed at her face, applying most of her pressure to Firefly's forehead. "I look wrong," she complained to Taj. "I'm doing something wrong, aren't I?"

"You need to zip up in the back, for one," Carter offered. "But I wouldn't say you look wrong. You look pretty sweet to me."

"Go brush your teeth," Taj ordered, waving him off.

Carter smirked at her. "Already did."

"Then do it again," Taj scolded. While Carter laughed his way into the bathroom, Taj pulled Firefly over to her standing mirror. She moved behind Firefly and pulled the zipper the rest of the way up. Somehow, she straightened the dress from behind so that it become more fitted on Firefly's frame. "There you go."

Firefly looked back. "How did you do that?"

"I tightened the lacing," Taj smiled, checking Firefly's ears. "Now, what's going on? Are you worried about today or is it something else?"

Firefly shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's all the coffee?" She blinked at Taj. "I was too terrified to go to sleep, so I waited until John was asleep and then I went down and found the coffeepot and then the coffee and now I don't know what to do with myself." She took a deep breath. "What do I do with my hair? It's longer than usual and usually I just do this." In example, she ran her fingers through her hair and then shook her head. "See?"

Taj nodded, smiling. "How do you want it to look, Fifi? I can help you. And if I don't know how, maybe Jackie or one of Carter's sisters will."

Firefly started to pout, almost wanting to cry. "I don't know," she shrugged. "I never thought about it." Who thinks about those things?

Taj nodded and started looking Firefly over. "Go grab those barrettes we found at the boutique. The little shimmering green ones that catch the light."

Firefly tried to remember where she put them. They'd bought so much for her the night before. "The ones that Jackie got excited about or the ones we bought when she wasn't looking?"

"Those," Taj chuckled. "The ones we bought."

Firefly nodded and ran back to her room. John was standing at the foot of the bed, holding the cell phone with a frown on his face and his chin still half covered with shaving cream. "What's wrong?" she called, pausing at the door until she spotted the shopping bags from the night before. She stopped to kiss his cheek. "Honey?"

"Where'd you go? I was talking to you and you didn't answer. I came out here and you were gone. I was just calling Dan to find you. Are you okay?" John asked, kissing her back.

"I needed help with my dress," she shrugged, feeling the butterflies in her stomach when he smiled at her. "Tell Dan it's okay. I'm with T."

She grabbed for the bag and dumped it on the bed, picking up the barrettes from the small stack of items. "Hurry and shave, Johnny. Taj doesn't like to be anywhere late."

"Darn, just when I was getting ideas, I really like the dress, Honey," John said, waggling his brows and chuckling into the phone. "Did you hear that?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "Right, you wish. Okay, later then." He hung up and shook his head. "Dan, he's funny."

Firefly giggled, kissing him again. "You need to stop picking on him, Johnny," she smiled, happy to see him rested and playful. "Taj is going to help me with my hair so I'll be right back." Boy, he smelled good. "Maybe we'll try more music after the funeral?"

"Okay, do you think it helped at all?" he asked her, setting his eyes over her once more.

She continued to smile, stepping away. "Hard to say," she shrugged when she was close enough to the door. "I better go, Taj is waiting."

She ran out the door and over to Taj's, knocking as she entered. Taj was helping Carter with his tie. Pushing Carter aside, Taj waved Firefly over. "Fifi, what's that in your hair?" She smirked and looked to Carter who only chuckled his way back into the bathroom again, this time coming back out with a towel.

"I see John's got his priorities straight," he winked at her, handing the towel to Taj.

Taj shook her head, gently taking hold of some of Firefly's hair to wipe at it with the towel. "Tell him he needs to finish shaving before kissing you," she instructed. "Shaving cream in the hair can be disastrous."

Firefly felt her blush. "Is it bad?"

"No," Taj soothed, pulling a comb off of the bed and starting to work it through Firefly's hair. "It's fine." She winked at Firefly. "Prepare to be look like a girl, Fifi. A very pretty one."

More butterflies fluttered away in her stomach and she nodded. "Okay."

After only about ten minutes, Taj was pulling Firefly toward the mirror again. To her own surprise, Firefly found she not only looked like a girl, but she could now see an obvious resemblance to her sister in her hairline and bangs. She also happened to look a little like one of the faeries from the book they noticed in the bookstore display at the mall.

"And now we know what Max's little sister would've looked like," Carter called, standing with his arms crossed by the closet. "You're beautiful, Fifi."

Taj smiled. "All we need now is a touch of make-up," she cheered. "Lip gloss and a smattering of blush."

Before she could say yes or no, Taj had the brush at Firefly's cheeks and all she could do was giggle. "T, that tickles," she called to her. Taj smiled and set the blush brush down to pick up a smaller brush already slick with colored gloss. Already knowing this drill, Firefly spread her lips and let Taj paint her. They both looked in the mirror when she was done.

Firefly couldn't believe she was actually looking at herself in the mirror. "Wow."

Taj smiled next to her. "Yeah, I imagine John's going to walk into the first wall he comes across as soon as he sees you."

"Maybe we should warn him?" Carter called.

Firefly giggled, shaking her head. "Thanks, T," she sang. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"Just don't get dirty before we go," Taj nodded. "We'll meet you downstairs in a little bit, so we can all leave together."

"Okay," Firefly agreed, waving to Carter as she left the room to go back to her own. Almost suddenly, she started to feel tired again. "Johnny?" she called into the room. "Are you ready? I need coffee."

"Yeah," he called, coming out of the bathroom while straightening his tie. "I could use some more myself. I only had…." He stopped talking as he looked up at her. She watched his mouth drop open and giggled as he blinked at her.

"You're stunning," he managed to say after licking his lips.

The butterflies went wild, especially when he started to move closer. "I don't think T will be happy if we mess up my lip gloss," she warned. Then again, she did have more. "You look very handsome all dressed up," she breathed. "Almost as handsome as you are on the gun range."

John grinned at her, advancing until he was gripping her upper arms. He lowered his head as if he was going to kiss her but instead he only inhaled deeply.

"Mmm, you smell good too," he whispered, moving back slightly to look into her eyes. "Once we come back here, I'm going to show you how much I like this new you. You're driving me crazy."

She held on to him by his sleeves, smiling up at him. "You can show me a little bit now, can't you?" she giggled, freeing one hand to hold her forefinger over her thumb. "Maybe this much?"

He chuckled low in his throat and she could see fire dancing in his eyes. "Only just," he said softly bending down to kiss her lips gently.

Quickly it turned passionate, his hands coming up to hold her face, opening her lips to deepen the kiss. He moved forwards a step, bringing their bodies together, showing her that he wanted this as badly as she did.

Just when she was expecting him to take her to the bed, he pulled back, easing their mouths apart with tiny kisses. He was panting slightly as he rested his forehead against hers.

"If we had the time, I'd finish this, but we have to finish getting ready." John said huskily. "Do you know if Kara and Luke are here yet?"

"My brain's not even registering my toes right now, Johnny," she blinked up at him. "Good thing I'm going down for coffee." She petted his face and tugged on his tie. "Ready to come down with me?"

"Yeah, I'm ready," John said, letting her go and grabbing up his jacket. "Do you have more lip gloss? Cause I kissed it all away," he said with a grin.

"I'll ask Taj for more," she laughed, not caring so much anymore. "I still have blush, don't I?"

"Oh yeah, a nice pretty pink," he called to her, moving to touch her cheek with a finger. "We'll go as soon as you're ready."

"Me?" she quizzed. "But I am ready." She frowned. "Aren't I?"

"Unless you want to go to the funeral without any shoes," John said with a shrug and a grin.

Nick groaned at his insatiable craving to be with her, even as she slept in his arms it wasn't enough. He tasted over her warm flesh and wondered at himself. The emptiness in his stomach could not abate the ferocity for which his arms clamored to hold and his legs to be next to the smoothness of hers.

And if the protection had not been so close, he might not have cared if he'd used it or not. He rolled his eyes at himself. Never had he been so careless.

Never had he had such a woman.

Madeleine...the name rolled around in his head, the only soothing calm thought he had.

There was so much for him to do back in Costa Rica, in all of his empire. The rot that he'd discovered through the Dane had to go deeper. The longer he was away, the worse it could get.

Yet, here he stayed.

She murmured, almost as if saying his name. He drank more kisses from along the length of her neck. The gentle smile that followed her soft purr made him crazy like a teenager.

Perhaps the mid-life crisis had finally come upon him? Is that what this is?

He listened to her breathing as she finally spun to face him again.

Kissing her face, he couldn't help but think that this was the best crisis of his life.

"To lose my mind like this," he breathed into her ear, "I will die a happy man."

She nuzzled his cheek, her lashes lifting only halfway. "Nico," she mumbled. "Not sleeping. For why?"

"How am I to sleep when wakefulness is so much more divine?" he smiled. "Eat with me, Bonita. Breakfast with me."

Her hand rested over his heart, by design or accident, he wasn't sure. "Not hungry," she said at the same moment her belly rumbled. "Not very," she amended and stretched. "But I will watch you eat. Will you wear your sweater?"

"Only if you wear it with me," he smiled, looking over to where it lay. "Is a big sweater, yes?"

She chuckled sleepily. "How will we share sweater, hm? Hardy say it is your size. Big on me, perfect on you."

"Ah," he sighed. "Then I will wear it first," he conceded. "And you will wear this...." He turned and reached down to his discarded shirt from the night before, offering it to her. He didn't know why he had this insane notion of wanting to see her in his shirt, but he did.

Slipping back into his boxers, he slipped out of the bed and walked over to the sweater, putting it on before walking to the cart. He rolled the whole thing over to the edge of the bed. "Hardy does have some culinary skill," he assured, "we should not be disappointed."

She finished buttoning the shirt up and scooted to the end of the bed to meet him. Seated again, she rolled the sleeves up until her hands and forearms could be seen. "Hardy seems to have many hidden talents about him," she said, watching him. "So I'm sure his culinary talents will be exceptional."

He grumbled a bit at that. "And what else are you noticing about my son?"

She smiled at him and it was charmingly crooked. "He is handsome boy," she said thoughtfully. "And has good taste in movies. He will make good husband for her."

He straightened, frowning at her. "Her?" he quizzed. "Husband? Hardy?" What was she thinking? "Hardy cannot be married. He is against it as am I." He looked to her. "What are these movies?"

The smile widened. "You will see," was all she said then looked thoughtful again. "He watched Beauty and Beast with me last night."

"The musical?" he asked, remembering it being mentioned to him once. "It is on the DVD now?" He uncovered their dishes, taking in the sight of the breakfasts. "Hardy is not this good...."

At least, he hadn't been before.

"Oh," Madeleine breathed. "It looks so pretty, I almost do not wish to eat it." She sniffed appreciatively. "I will hug him," she announced. "If it is he who did it and if not, I will hug the god who did."

Nick chuckled. "I know this dish," he informed, thinking through his favorite meals. "Gaston," he announced. "New, young chef in Marseilles." And then he remembered what he'd ordered Hardy to do. "I am to guess your sister has chosen her chef."

With his fork, he cut apart a bit of the crepe and offered it to her. "Gaston is much talented."

She took the bite cheerfully and made such noises of pleasure, they were almost indecent. "Perhaps you have competition for my affection," she teased lightly. "I would give many things to have such a meal every morning."

Nick grumbled again, pulling away his fork. "I do not like this conversation," he complained.

Madeleine laughed at him and darted forward to steal a sweet kiss. "You're jealous," she said. "It is cute."

"It is lethal," he smiled, adoring her in his shirt. "And, yes, I am very jealous. I will not deny it." He smiled. "What else did you and my son do while you were enjoying the ice cream of yesterday?"

She tilted her head. "We ate all the ice cream," she mused. "And watched all my movies and talked of life. He is like...son," she frowned at that. "I am younger but he makes me want to pat his cheek. And make him cookies to go with his ice cream." She broke out into a smile again. "The only thing he has bad taste in is movies. And women. But he likes Twelve Angry Men over Casablanca, it is tragic."

Nick laughed, shaking his head. "And of this I believe you, that you would think this." He leaned over to kiss her cheek. "But the movie is one he saw with his father," he informed. "Casablanca cannot compare to such good memory."

He found himself eating with fervor, wondering about the movies she spoke of and feeling a bit of jealousy that Hardy had this moment with her that he did not. "Tell me more of these movies. They are here?"

She nodded and ate with similar gusto. "They are mine now," she confessed. "I did not want to rent and have Hardy go to the trouble of returning them. They are my first bought movies," she said and her happiness at the fact made her face glow.

Finished with his meal, he set his plate back on the cart. Seeing that she had also finished, he took hers and did the same. "And any other firsts?"

She lifted her shoulders, his shirt big and somehow flattering on her and looked at him curiously. "What other firsts could I have?""

He pulled her into his arms and lifted her off the bed. "How about this one for me?" he cheered, carrying her out to the living room. "I have never sat and watched movies with beautiful woman."

She chuckled as he sat them down on the couch and went about setting up the movie. When he came back to her, the previews were beginning. "Beauty and Beast?" she questioned, snuggling into his side warmly. "You like it too?"

"I have not seen it," he smiled, pulling her closer. "Is romantic?"

She smiled. "Very. It’s the tale of beastly prince turned into actual beast by sorceress. He can only be changed back by true love." She nestled into him. "Is sad movie but beautiful."

He nodded. "Then I will pay close attention," he promised.

“You are gorgeous,” he kissed her neck as he passed her, heading into the bathroom once more.

“I don’t know what kind of jewelry one wears to a funeral. I want to blend in,” she complained and he came back out, his hair freshly combed into submission.

His eyes twinkled at her and he took her into his arms to dance her around the room, nibbling at her neck. “Is impossible for beauty to blend in,” he murmured. “You will brighten dark day.”

Giggling, she rested her head on his shoulder a moment. “You’re absolutely no help at all. But keep the pretty talk coming. I like it.”

He grinned and released her to finish dressing. “Is tie wrong you think?” He held up a gorgeous silk and she shook her head.

“It’s perfect. Like you.”

Lifting an eyebrow, he began working the tie into a smooth knot around his neck. “Now who is no help?” he teased.

Giggling, Izzy reached for her ringing phone and gave him a saucy look. “Hello?” she said into the phone.

“Did you do this?” Cordy’s excited voice poured over out of the receiver.

Confused, Izzy asked, “Do what? What’s wrong, Cordy? Did something happen at the office?”

Cordy laughed and Izzy could hear paper rustling in the background. “Oh, hon, you’ve got to get your hot little hands on this morning’s paper.”

“Hang on,” she told her friend and looked over to Enzo who was looking too innocent as he fiddled with his tie. What did he do? she wondered, that had Cordy so excited? “We get the paper yet, love?”

“Is in kitchen,” he nodded, his hands suddenly busy adjusting his shirt, his hair, rubbing his face.

Crap, she thought and ran downstairs to the kitchen. The paper lay rolled up on the counter beside their empty breakfast dishes. For once, Izzy hadn’t thought to bother reading a newspaper. She hadn’t wanted to see yet another boastful and tacky ad from Velmont Dean’s campaign nor had she wanted to cry over the article covering Max’s parents’ deaths. There would be plenty of tears later.

“Okay Cordy,” she said into the phone. “what am I looking for?”

“Second page. You can’t miss it.”

Flipping the paper open, her jaw dropped. That was the Landrum slogan smeared across the page with a big picture of Tate, impressing the urgency in electing a trustworthy mayor for their fair town.

“What the hell? I didn’t order this! We don’t have this in our—omigosh, ENZO,” she yelled and snatched the paper to run for the stairs. “Sorry,” she told Cordy, “didn’t mean to scream in your ear like that. That man—“ she stopped when she looked up to find him standing at the landing at the top of the stairs. He looked sheepish and mildly repentant.

“You are angry,” he stated, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Cordy, I’m going to have to call you back.”

Her friend giggled and Izzy flipped her phone shut.

Oh how sad the truth was. Thanks to Sanders declaring himself, she was once again a bundle of raw nerves. She'd run away before, hiding in Germany, China and the like to try and escape the thin ice she constantly skated on.

Her children. They would hate her for the truth. But hadn't she told herself this before? The line was tiring and she was so tired of these deep painful thoughts.

And despite it all, buried inside, was the tiny wish to see all her babies together. It was a cruel irony that by Alina's wedding she would be like Quinn's mother anyway and Liz would be his sister.

Would it truly kill them to know they really were? Margaret sighed then shoved it back to smile as she approached the table. Liz and Cecilia sat chatting together, sipping delicious-looking iced tea. Alina and Madeleine were absent. She lifted an eyebrow at the passing waiter and soon an iced tea arrived as she sat.

Sipping it she smiled at Liz and the woman who was close enough to be her daughter. "Ladies, I see I’m not the only one who's fashionably late."

She felt a delicate yawn arrive and she let it out as gently as she could. D@mn Sanders. She'd driven for hours, pointlessly, obsessing over his words. And then she'd obsessed over them before bed. She was lucky she'd gotten the three and half hours after five this morning. "When did you two get here? Come to think of it, when did you leave?"

Liz smiled, so elegantly put together that Margaret had to admire her daughter. For all her tomboy ways as a child, Liz had become the epitome of chic. When she wasn't letting her mouth get away from her anyway. "Well, Cecilia called and reserved a table around nine something. We figured we were leaving at ten but you were impossible to wake so we left and figured you'd get here before my flight or feel horribly guilty." She took a sip of a tea. "And be grouchy because you missed all the new gossip."

Margaret rolled her eyes, feeling that horrible guilt. She'd been so drained, it was amazing she'd awakened before twelve in the first place. "You're a terrible daughter, did I ever tell you that? You must have gotten it from Morgan." She sipped her own tea and grinned behind the glass when Cecilia giggled at them. "Where's Alina?" Margaret demanded next. "And Madeleine?"

"I am here, Mama, I am here," Alina's voice crooned from behind her. Margaret turned to find her daughter dressed in typical Alina fashion: an expensive black pantsuit that highlighted her feminine curves subtly. Margaret raised her eyebrows at Cecilia who was the only dressed as casually as she. "I feel so undressed, Cecilia, do you?

She nodded, plucking at her simple white peasant dress. "Your daughters outdo us terribly." Then she turned her shy smile on Alina. "Hi, we haven't met yet. I'm Cecilia Hart."

Alina shook her hand with a genuine pleased smile on her face. "Alina Ashby. Well, soon anyway," she giggled and slid into the booth next to Margaret. "And Mama, Madeleine will not be here. I am afraid she was with her beau-"

Margaret lifted her eyebrows, surprised. "She was with her beau? The mysterious Nick, correct?" She'd only heard bits and pieces about him. So far she had learned that Nick offered the hotel for the wedding and rehearsal. Which was an amazingly magnanimous offer and made her wonder about the man.

A man who owned a hotel for that matter? Very curious indeed. Something dark-colored arrived for Alina and Liz lifted her eyebrows. "What's that?"

Alina grinned. "Diet Pepsi. I have fallen in love with it. Marc calls me monster but it has just enough caffeine for me."

Margaret chuckled. "I have a weakness for it too which is why I'm drinking tea instead. Otherwise, I will become re-addicted."

Cecilia on the other hand ordered one too before smiling at Alina. "So how did you meet your fiancé?"

Alina sighed. "Is very short story actually. I came to Reeder when I was looking for my sister and when I arrived at airport, I was accosted by ruffian." She growled. "Marc saved me. And I've been stuck with him ever since."

Cecilia and Liz sighed. "I hadn't heard that story but its very romantic," Liz sighed.

Margaret wondered if Alina would ever tell them about Madeleine's kidnapping leading her on the hunt in the first place. Ah but it was really not something one liked to share. Food arrived, startling Margaret. "Who ordered?"

Liz smiled half-apologetically. "I did, sorry. I was starving and I figured you wouldn't mind the surprise."

Margaret was tempted to scold her but the teriyaki salad that slid beneath her nose made her belay that lecture. Her daughter knew her so well. When she looked up, Liz looked a little worried. Margaret kept her like that until she took a bite. "Mm, I don't know how you knew but this was exactly what I craved, even at this hour of morning."

Cecilia laughed. "And I wanted the egg omelet," she said, forking some to her mouth.

Alina giggled when the hearty plate of hash browns arrived. "And oddly enough, I have wanted potatoes all morning. Liz, petit, you are wonder."

Liz shrugged but her cheeks are flushed with pleasure. "I can observe. Some are traditional like Celia. And some are just picky, like you two," she giggled.

Margaret rolled her eyes and settled to enjoy the food, savoring the girls' chatter as she ate. Motherhood was a very pleasing work.

It wasn't until Alina was halfway through her hash browns that she sprang her trap and made Margaret wince. "So Mama. Tell us why you and Papa act so odd at the mention of each other's names?"

Margaret had to stop chewing or choke on a piece of chicken. "Wh-What? What do you mean?"

Her daughters only giggled and even Cecilia looked amused. Margaret groaned silently.

Turning back to see Luke moving towards her and One standing outside the car door. She tried to smile at them, but was unable to hold it as they both gave her looks full of sympathy. Hating that, more than anything, she looked away seeing Pet lead Max up the walk.

"Everyone's here it looks like. We should go inside and make sure nothing comes up that needs addressing before the service begins." One said to her and she nodded, accepting Luke's arm and allowing One to lead.

They entered through the door just behind Pet and Max, the preacher greeting them all with handshakes. "Please accept my condolences, Child, and the condolences of the congregation as well." Kara smiled at him, taking the hand he offered and murmuring acceptance of his gesture.

Together, they moved through the inner doors, Kara watching Max move slowly behind Pet as Luke led her into the sanctuary. It wasn't until Luke stopped, One bumping into them that she drew her eyes away from Max and Pet. She blinked up at him, wondering what was going on only to see him blinking at something ahead of them.

Following his line of sight, she saw Enzo setting up a huge canvas by the caskets. Curious, she watched him for a moment. When she saw a flash of Kylie's face her stomach dropped to her knees. She began walking towards the front slipping free of Luke's hold. Her eyes devoured everything Enzo did from locking the legs of the easel in place to adjusting the elegantly framed canvas. She stopped moving when he stepped sideways and turned to face her.

She blinked at the portrait before her, so lifelike and so perfect. She felt the rush of tears as she saw the baby in Kylie's arms, and Darrel so lovingly standing behind Max, his hand on his shoulder. It was so beautifully done that she wondered how Enzo had done it at all.

Kara turned to search out Luke only to find him right behind her. One stood beside him and Max came up to them.

"Do you like it, Aunt Kara?" he asked her, sounding worried. Kara crouched down to him, touching his cheek and smiled.

"I love it, it’s perfect." She looked up to Enzo who had taken one of the twins from Pet. "How did you do this? It's so real looking, so...it's amazing. Thank you."

Enzo started to blush, the baby grabbing at his cheek. "Is my best work ever," he grinned, shrugging. "Labor of love for little brother."

Kara kissed Max's cheek and stood reaching out a hand to Enzo's arm. "It's a masterpiece, worthy of the Louvre. We will always treasure it. Thank you for doing this for Max. For everything you did for Max."

Enzo smiled bright, bouncing the baby in his arms. "Is my honor," he bowed. He stepped over to kiss her cheek. In her ear, he whispered, "this is not last of it, but shhh...I have not told to Max yet." He smiled again as he stepped away, again bouncing the baby. "I am glad you are a happy."

Kara smiled, glancing down to Max and nodded at Enzo, touching a finger to the baby's cheek. "As happy as I can be, but with this I am very happy." She gave him a curious look but he only winked slightly at her and kissed the baby's face.

"Well, I think it's great,” Luke said with a grin, putting a hand to her waist. “I don't know where we'll hang it, but I'm sure we can find a spot."

Kara nodded at him, reaching out to run her fingers through Max's hair. "Where do you think it should go, Max? Do you want it in your room or somewhere else?"

"Hmm, well, I haven't seen my room so I don't know. Can we decide after I've seen everything?" he asked her in a small voice. Kara smiled at him, nodding.

"Do you like your painting?" One asked him, coming to stand beside him while his eyes glanced around.

"Oh yes," Max said, nodding. "It is incredibly beautiful, don't you think?"

"Yes, very much so," One answered him, watching as the door opened. Kara turned in time to see Fiona, John, Carter and Taj come inside. One tilted his head looking away for a moment before smiling at them all. "Sorry, I need to take care of something." He moved away from them, going outside after he spoke briefly to the foursome that had just entered.

"At least this way," Kara said to Max, turning them back to the painting "you can see your sister every day." She patted his shoulder.

"She's perfect, Mama and Daddy all together." Max said, looking up at her. "I named her," he said looking a bit worried. “Enzo and I did when we were feeding the calves.”

Kara crouched down to him, placing her hand on his cheek. "That's lovely," she told him, hoping he wouldn't start crying. If he did, she knew she would too.

"I named her Darlene Kara Campbell. Is that okay?" he asked her, looking unsure. Kara was touched beyond anything words could express so she nodded. She pulled him into a hug, kissing his temple. He wrapped his little arms around her neck and she opened her eyes to see that Pet and Enzo had taken their seats in a pew where Rook was bouncing another baby in his arms.

She felt Luke touch her shoulder and she pulled away from Max to look up at him. He looked reluctant to be interrupting them and she knew already what he had to say.

"Everyone's here," he said, waving towards the full pews behind them. "The preacher is ready, it's already five after." Kara nodded, looking back to Max who gripped her hand tightly.

"Come and sit with me, Max," she said, standing to lead the way. She sat, pulling him down beside her and wrapping her arm around him. He leaned into her side and she smiled up at Luke, finally accepting that Max wanted her to be in his life.

Luke sat on her other side, Fiona and Dan behind them as the preacher began his sermon. It was filled with beautiful words that didn’t make her grief easier to bear. Still, she listened to it, trying to get any peace she could.

Her eyes strayed to the caskets in front of the preacher then the painting, feeling tears spring to her eyes again. In her mind she said her good byes hearing sniffles from beside her. She patted Max's shoulder, knowing he must be doing the same thing. The sniffles became louder. Kara wrapped him closer to her side, as she wiped gently at her own tears.

"And from whence we came, Lord, return us to the earth. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust..." The preacher’s voice carried to the back of the church with the help of the microphone he wore. Still the boy drowned him out.

Max slumped against her, alarm making her look down. As fast as she was trying to pull him up, her arm was soaked with his tears as he began to sob in earnest.

"Max," Kara whispered to him, trying to get him to sit up and face her. It was like trying to lift a ninety-pound sack of rice without bending over: impossible. Yet the boy’s cries were drawing attention from the pews across the alcove from her.

Worried and trying not to show it, Kara turned to Luke and nudged him.

"Help me," she commanded him in a whisper. Luke leaned forward a little, seeing Max slumped so far down he was almost on the floor. He had wormed his little body into a fetal position. Kara stifled a sob of her own, knowing that she had to be strong for Max. Luke reached around her to lift the boy onto her lap.

Limp like he was, Max began to slide off of her and Kara struggled to hold him upright. Her arms were barely around him when Max let out a soft cry of, "Rook."

Kara shared a look with Luke, who patted her shoulder and looked across the church to the man who was lovingly holding his wife against his side.

"Max, sweetie," she crooned softly, trying to soothe him and not doing a good job of it. At least Luke had shifted Max to allow her to get a firmer grip on him before Luke tried to flag Rook down without drawing attention away from the preacher.

Her dress soaked and sticking to her chest from Max's tears, Kara began to feel desperate for him. She wanted him comforted now and didn't give a d@mn about propriety or the preacher’s feelings.

Ready to yell at them, Kara lifted her head to the other side and her blue eyes collided with gray ones. She blinked, knowing that Cutty would get Pet for her, but instead he stood and walked out.

Pet now registered what Kara had meant about "not like you might expect." Cutty obviously approved, the smile on his face when he started to sing in that rich, strong voice of his that made her feel like a little girl again.

His head bobbed in time with the music as Dan started to play alongside Kara. "Some glad morning, when this life is o-o'er, I'll fly away...."

She joined him, keeping time, as an echo to his rich timbre, "I'll fly away."

Suddenly, she wasn't lost in her sadness, but celebrating a love amid hope. She closed her eyes as she held her father's hand and succumbed to the music.

Max's sobs eased to soft whimpers as they continued, everything around them growing quiet. "When I die, hallelujah by and by, I'll fly away...."

Kara kept the tempo quick and upbeat, Dan prompting a more soulful sound as he thrummed his fingers against the board of his guitar. Pet's voice kept a harmony with Cutty's, finding the recollection of the verses easier than she originally imagined.

"To a land where joy will never end...I'll fly away."

Pet looked down at Max in Rook's arms, wishing for him to know it wouldn't hurt forever.

To her heartbreak, he had his hands over his eyes, taking those shuddering breaths caused only by rendering sobs, his little voice meeting her ears, first with his call of "Mama" and "Daddy, my Daddy."

God, I miss them, he prayed when Pet's voice joined him at the chorus, "In the sweet by and by, we shall meet on that beautiful shore...."

The music rolled over him and his emotions started to get the better of him. Pet squeezed his hand when he went quiet and he opened his eyes to smile at her. She nodded and took the next verse on her own. "We shall sing on that beautiful shore, the melodious songs of the blessed," her voice carrying out. "And our spirits will sorrow no more, not a sigh for the blessing of rest."

They joined voices again for the chorus, his pride swelling as she leaned close to kiss his cheek. Cutty swallowed the lump in his throat and started the next verse after the same pause. "To our bountiful father above...."

Unlike when he'd had to say his goodbyes to his cousins, though Brady's was from afar because of the news of his own death, Cutty was filled with the pride that he could offer some solace to someone. And it comforted him to know he could do this little bit for Kara and Max, rather than watching them hurt.

As the song came to its natural close, Kara started picking out another tune altogether. The other two musicians fell in time as did Dan, who had to pause to concentrate. From the chapel, the reverend had made his way to the piano and Kara started to sing. Cutty grinned.

Of course. Uncle Aubrey's favorite song...Will The Circle Be Unbroken.