Seasons To Remember
by Dagmar Buse and Cheryl Roberts

Chapter 22: Trouble In Paradise

"Was there ever a time when you and Dad had a fight, Mom?"

"Oh yes," Kat sighed. "No marriage is all sunshine and roses, as you probably well know. Jason definitely had a temper, even if he did his best to keep it under control most of the time. Sometimes, though... when things got too much, he would explode—thankfully only briefly. He didn't brood or hold grudges or anything; one quick flare and it was over. To tell the truth, I'm not all that meek, either—there've been moments when I was the one to blow my stack. But we always tried to keep it from you kids."

"Well, you succeeded," Lynne smiled. "I can't remember the two of you fighting at all."

"That's good to know. I like harmony, but I do have my limits." She laughed softly. "Usually, though, we tried not to go to sleep without making up."

"Except for one time, right, dear?" Tommy interjected knowingly. "Jase once told me that he stayed in the doghouse for weeks because he'd managed to upset you."

"I can't believe that," Oliver declared staunchly. "Mom, you never hold a grudge. Not that I can remember, anyway," he amended, as fair-minded as Jason had ever been.

"That once, I did," Kat admitted, just a bit sheepishly. She knew perfectly well to which instance Tommy was referring. The memory still had the power to rouse her ire. Only with time had anger given way to mere exasperation... and faint guilt.

When all was said and done, it wasn't really Jason's fault at all that things went so horribly wrong that day. I was just too upset to see it at the time.

"But why?" Lynne wondered. "I just can't imagine Dad ever doing something that made you so mad you wouldn't forgive him."

"Oh, I forgave him quickly enough; it's just... that day, so many little and not so little things piled up one on top of the other that it took me a very long time to forget. There's a difference," Kat sighed.

Recognizing the badly-veiled curiosity on their offspring's faces, Tommy chuckled. "You better tell it from the beginning, hon," he advised his fiancée. "Or else someone will get absolutely the wrong idea about what was going on at the time."

"Yeah, Mom—'fess up," Jared coaxed with a small grin. "You'll feel better once you get it off your chest."

"Don't you dare use my own lines against me, Jared Taylor Scott," Kat grumbled mock-seriously. Her youngest just grinned more broadly, showing not the smallest sign of remorse.

"Oh, very well," she sighed, giving in with as much grace as she could. "It was when we'd been married a little over a year; my Aunt Rebecca and her family had come over from Sydney to visit my folks..."

Kat sighed impatiently as she finished putting the downstairs of the house to order; where was Jason? There was still so much to do until her mother's sister arrived, and he'd promised to come home early to help her with dinner preparations. She was as nervous about this upcoming visit as she'd ever been, and her penchant for perfectionism had almost resulted in their first serious fight.

But the blonde dancer was desperate to impress her relations, so on top of working full-time at the dance studio she'd spent most of the last week cleaning the house from top to bottom, worrying about the menu, admonishing her long-suffering husband at every opportunity to do this, remember that... in short, not only had Kat driven herself crazy, but Jason as well. Until even his patience ran out and he'd told her rather sharply that she should chill already.

"For heaven's sake, Kat, I'm an adult, I know how to behave in company, even if they're as hoity-toity as your aunt seems to be. You're not my mother, to tell me to mind my p's and q's!"

There'd been more, until he'd stormed off into the basement, where Kat heard him clatter around, then start beating the stuffing out of his punching bag, muttering angrily under his breath all the while. Only with difficulty had she suppressed the desire to follow him and give an equally sharp retort. She held back though, fighting tears, knowing full well that a crying jag might be tempting, but very futile.

If only being in the early stages of pregnancy hadn't affected her stamina so much!. She tired so easily these days; usually Kat thought nothing of what Billy liked to call 'uxorial multi-tasking'—carrying a full workload, looking after the household (it was Jason's chore to care for the garden), entertaining guests... it was just, neither their parents nor their friends were liable to look at their house with eyes as critical as her aunt's were going to be!

Kat drew a deep, calming breath. Jason was right, she knew it; she really shouldn't worry so much. But that was easier said than done, when today was one time when she'd truly counted on his help—which he normally gave cheerfully, despite working long hours at the dojo himself.

He's not staying away on purpose, or to spite me. It's for our baby, she reminded herself. Jason is doing everything he can to make it easier for me, by building a nest egg so I can afford to take some time off when I'm due.

The child they were expecting was their greatest joy.

I'd better calm down; hurrying too much will ultimately only slow me down if something goes wrong. Besides, overexerting myself could result in bleeding, which could lead to serious complications, even a miscarriage... no way. I'd rather serve Aunt Rebecca a takeout pizza than do anything to harm our baby!

And yet Kat was looking forward to seeing her relations again, although Rebecca Sanders wasn't the easiest person in the world to get along with. She had certain attitudes—'standards', she liked to call them—that weren't always easy to cope with, or to live up to. But, her aunt had been the one to enrol her in ballet classes as a little girl, even paying for her tuition the first few years and encouraging her ambitions to become a professional dancer, although Kat had been temporarily sidetracked by her diving successes and her move to the United States.

What will I do if she is insulted over my decision to quit performing? What if she looks down on Jason, or takes one of her sudden dislikes to him?

I don't care if she gets huffy, Kat determined. Then, innate honesty forced her to amend the thought. At least, I shouldn't. And even if she does, I'll try not to let it bother me. There's nothing she can do, anyway, and she'll be leaving again soon.

Aunt Rebecca hadn't been able to make it to her wedding last year due to other, prior commitments, and it would be the first time she was going to meet Jason; quite naturally, Kat was desperate for the two of them to make a good impression. Especially as Aunt Rebecca had hinted at feeling disappointment that Kat had chosen to become a dance teacher rather than taking a more prestigious position back in Sydney—more so as the Opera's offer to work as in-house choreographer had been made because of her connections.

But Kat was happy with the choices she'd made; being married to the man she loved was worth more than anything her aunt could say or do for her. Still, she felt she owed her a debt of gratitude, if nothing else.

Thinking of Jason, though, brought her neatly back to wondering where he was; he had assured her repeatedly that he'd be there in time to help her with her preparations. The house was spotless and the special dinner Kat had planned was already well underway, but if she wanted to take a shower, get dressed and be ready on time, she needed a hand.

Well, there's no sense in procrastinating; Jason will just have to hustle when he comes.

Still, the blonde was feeling a bit peeved. Her husband normally was very good about keeping his word; it really wasn't like him to leave her in the lurch like that. Huffing impatiently, Kat went into the kitchen and started on those parts of dinner that needed time to cook. Maybe she could dash upstairs and get changed while the vegetables and the potatoes were simmering.

Kat really longed for a shower once her preparations had gotten to the point where her attention wasn't constantly needed in the kitchen anymore. For the moment, anyway. She ran upstairs, wishing she could still take two steps at a time (definitely not a good idea in her first trimester!) and yanked off her clothes. Where is Jason, anyway? she seethed while stuffing underwear into the hamper and laying the garments she intended to wear on the bed in readiness. Just as she was about to step into the shower, however, the phone rang. Impatiently—I don't have time for this!—she snatched up the bedroom extension.

"Hello, Scott residence," she said, just a touch exasperated at yet another delay. She was running late as it was!

"Kat? Sorry I didn't make it as I promised, but something great has come up...we have a chance at getting a training contract for the Guardians troops in Silver Hills. Wes and Eric are here right now; if this deal we're talking about comes through, the dojo's set!"

Jason's voice sounded excited, not at all contrite, but if the reason he wasn't home was indeed work-related, Katherine couldn't really blame him. Especially not if the news was this good. And yet, she couldn't help but wish it had come at any other time but today.

"That's... great," she sighed, barely mollified. "Just remember that we're expecting guests, okay?"

"Don't worry, love, I won't forget," Jason soothed her over the phone. "We're just hashing out general feasibility, no details yet. I don't think I'll be much longer."

"Exactly how late is 'not much longer'?" she wanted to know, but right then there was a slight commotion in the background; dimly, Kat could identify Rocky's voice laughing at something another male had said. Presumably either Wes Collins or Eric Myers. The camaraderie shared by the men was obvious, even at a distance and over the phone.

"Dunno, but I'll hurry. Promise! Listen, hon, I gotta go. See you soon!"

And before the frustrated dancer could get another word in, Jason had killed the connection.

"Aaargh!"

Slamming the phone back down on the nightstand, Kat swiped a hand through her hair, then counted slowly to twenty. In French, too. She knew she could trust Jason to show up for dinner—it wasn't like him to shirk any of his obligations—but when was anybody's guess now. The Red Dragon Dojo was his (and Rocky's, and Tommy's) pride and joy, and short of herself and his parents took precedence over anything else in his life.

Well, she would get things ready for her relatives by herself, even if it killed her. But Jason was sure to hear about this later tonight!

Hurrying through her shower, Kat dressed quickly in an attractive turquoise shirtwaist dress, fixed her hair with a couple of clips and applied a minimum of makeup; she really would have liked to take greater care with her appearance, but with Jason not there to help, she just couldn't spare the time. She groaned when she noticed that her dress was getting a little tight around her midsection. Seemed as if her baby was making its presence felt a bit sooner than anticipated.

Grr. Why didn't I try this on earlier? Now it's too late to change clothes! And of course the only other presentable dress I have must be at the cleaners...

Fifteen minutes later, she was back downstairs—barely in time to save the vegetables from burning. Cursing softly, Kat jumped to the rescue, checked the roast, put the soup she'd prepared earlier on to heat, then rushed into the dining room to lay the table.

A shimmering white damask tablecloth, her good china, silverware, cut-crystal glasses... oh, a vase with flowers! The lovely arrangement of chrysanthemums in shades of pink and purple looked gorgeous right in the middle of the table. With a pleased smile, Kat started folding napkins. As she reached across the table to place her silver candlesticks on either side of the centerpiece, though, she accidentally brushed against the vase; it toppled over and the water poured all over her best linen.

Kat gritted her teeth, closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She didn't have time for this! However, it was no use—she had to start all over again. Quickly, she whisked off everything, then went in search of a fresh tablecloth. The pale pink linen would just have to do.

If Jason had been here like he'd promised, this wouldn't have happened!

To be fair, she couldn't be certain about that, but it would sure have taken her less time to set everything to rights again. At last, she was done—with just enough time to spare to start putting the finishing touches on her very special dinner. It wasn't as if they'd never had guests before, but never in quite such a formal setting, nor had Kat taken such extra pains about the food.

Cream of mushroom soup, followed by a special shrimp salad with fresh fruit and asparagus tips for hors d'oeuvres; a tender roast in red-wine sauce with baby carrots, sweet peas and new potatoes as the entrée, and for dessert a jellied fruit compote with vanilla ice and whipped cream. It had taken all of her ingenuity to plan and prepare, to get everything ready in time; she only hoped that the sauce wouldn't turn out lumpy and that she'd manage to glaze the carrots just right. After all, she'd never quite prepared them that way before...

Tying an apron around her waist so that her dress wouldn't be ruined, Kat marched into the kitchen to finish cooking.

Jason came home at last just when she was placing the serving plates into the oven to warm them up. The harried housewife checked her watch.

Oh God, only half an hour to spare!

"Jason, where on earth-" she started as he breezed into the kitchen and caught her in a bear hug.

"We got the contract!"

Jason's excitement and enthusiasm at the good news were infectious—or would have been, if Kat hadn't been caught up in more immediate concerns. Like, her dinner guests being due to arrive shortly, and Jason still in workout clothes, unshowered, sporting a five o' clock shadow, the drinks unprepared... Yet, she managed a smile, despite the urge to fidget as if her shoes were on fire.

"That's great."

He didn't notice her rather lukewarm response.

"It's all settled bar the paperwork, Kat," Jason grinned, bussing his wife soundly. "God, this couldn't have come at a better time—what with Tommy thinking of retiring from racing and both you and Kim pregnant. It's up to the lawyers now, but we—Eric, Wes, Tommy, Rocky and I—hashed out the main details today; that's what kept me so long."

His dark eyes were sparkling with pleasure as he hugged her again, nearly squeezing the breath out of her lungs.

"Do you know that that means, love? Now we won't have to worry about having our own family, too—with the steady, guaranteed income from Silver Hills, you can afford to take some time off once our baby is born!"

With Rocky and Sarah expecting their fifth child and Kimberly about to give birth to her first, the Scotts had been naturally concerned about finances when Kat conceived as well; while Red Dragon Martial Arts was doing reasonably well, the operation wasn't financially secure enough to fully support all three families. And Kat had little desire to leave her much-wanted child to strangers to raise. Sure, the grandmothers had promised to pitch in when necessary, but they couldn't be expected to do it full-time if Kat had to work.

"That's wonderful," she commented, too distracted by the impending visit to give Jason's news the appreciation he expected. Kat didn't even notice how Jason's face fell. But he was trying to be a good sport; he swallowed his disappointment as best he could and released her.

"Well, I'd better shower and get ready; we can celebrate properly later, maybe?" he suggested hopefully, running a gentle hand down her arm. That was usually their public signal to have some marital fun later. However, for once his lovely wife was oblivious.

"Just hurry, okay? I can't leave the kitchen..." Kat was already turning back towards her pots and pans.

Sighing, Jason watched her for a few seconds, then shrugged and went upstairs. A quarter-hour later, Kat thought she heard the phone ring once, but her kitchen timer went off right then and she had to pay attention to the slowly-simmering food. When her attention refocused on her surroundings, all was quiet.

Too quiet.

The shower wasn't running anymore, so she supposed Jason was done, but—if he was, why wasn't he already downstairs again, offering his help?

He never dawdles; how long can it take to put on a suit and tie, anyway? she groused, walking to the foot of the staircase and calling Jason's name. When no answer was forthcoming, though, she went looking for her errant husband. He's probably having problems again with getting the knot straight! Men!

"Jason? What's taking you so long..." Kat's voice died down incredulously as she walked into their bedroom. Instead of struggling with his tie in front of the mirror, Jason was still in his underwear, one sock dangling from his hand and his hair a damp, unkempt mess as he was talking animatedly to whoever had called.

"Yeah, and we'll need to set up a schedule of who's driving to Silver Hills on which days, and coordinate things so our regular classes won't be interrupted..."

For once, the sight of her husband's tanned, muscular body clad only in tight white briefs failed to move Kat. Instead, she had to swallow down several sharp remarks.

"Jason!"

Startled, he turned his head. Kat had never used that particular tone with him before—angry, exasperated, thoroughly put out... in fact, she sounded exactly like Helen Scott used to, when he'd seriously messed up as a teenager. She was glaring at him just like his mother did as well. Jason snuck a peek at the alarm clock on the nightstand, then winced guiltily. Guess I kinda have, at that.

"Oops. Sorry, Rocko—Kat needs me. Talk to you later, okay?"

Jason listened briefly to whatever his business partner was saying, then chuckled. "Sure thing. Tomorrow, then. Bye!" He clicked off the phone and sent an apologetic smile towards his wife even as he bent to pull on his socks. "Sorry, Kat. Rocky caught me just as I started getting dressed. I'll be down in a jiffy!"

"I sure hope so," Kat muttered, too angry to trust herself to say more. How could Jason forget about their dinner guests? Didn't he care how important tonight was for her? Her aunt and uncle were due to arrive any minute now! That thought propelled her back down without another word, leaving Jason to murmur contritely "uh-oh" at her back.

As she put the finishing touches to her dinner table and readied the cocktail tray, she heard him open closet doors and generally rummaging around. There was the brief hum of her hair dryer, a startled curse when he obviously stubbed his toe on a corner, then the closing of the bedroom door and his steps on the staircase. They were far too jaunty for her strung nerves.

Serves him right! I just hope he hasn't made too big of a mess in the bedroom, so I can show Aunt Rebecca around later!

A taxi pulled into their driveway just as Jason entered the dining room. He saw Kat struggling with a corkscrew and a bottle of wine, and stepped forward immediately.

"Here, let me do that. You go and say hi to your aunt," he murmured, giving her a sheepish smile. "I'll be done in a second."

"Right." Briefly, Kat let her eyes sweep over Jason. He looked casually handsome in freshly ironed black jeans, a white, open-necked shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a waistcoat patterned in the distinct red, black and white of the Scott tartan—a favorite of his ever since Kat had brought it from London as her first-ever personal Christmas gift once they'd started dating. Normally, Kat loved seeing her husband wear it. Today, though...

"Why didn't you put on a suit and tie?" she demanded to know even as the doorbell rang. "I so wanted you to look your best...!"

Jason huffed in exasperation as he followed her. "Because I'm in my own home and not at some formal affair," he shot back. "I want to be comfortable, not getting strangled by some stupid piece of silk. Good grief, Kat, relax—it's only your relatives coming to visit, not royalty!"

"Aunt Rebecca is much more important to me than royalty," she replied, suppressing angry tears. However, it was too late now to change things. Painting a smile on her face, she opened the front door. "Aunt Rebecca, Uncle Gary! How wonderful to see you!"

Jason observed the imperious-looking woman as she reservedly replied to Kat's greeting. He didn't miss the slightly disdainful glance she sent around their hallway, and pursed his lips. He'd never experienced dislike at first sight, but it seemed as if that was about to change.

Great, one of those, Jason thought to himself, sighing inwardly. He knew that the Hillards were a rather well-off family (his father-in-law was the CEO of the American branch of an international shipping firm, after all), but they had never made him feel as uncomfortable as Rebecca Sanders did with just a toss of her perfectly-coiffed head. Thus, his smile was much less warm and welcoming than was his usual wont as he greeted his guests.

"Good evening, Mrs. Sanders, Mr. Sanders," Jason said. "Welcome to our house."

At least the husband looks reasonably civil!

"And a very nice house it is, too, I'm sure," Kat's aunt replied—with about as much warmth as an ice cube. "So you're Katherine's husband."

"Yes, Aunt Rebecca," Kat interposed brightly. Too brightly. She linked her arm through Jason's. "This is Jason. I'm so glad the two of you can meet at last!"

The older woman's lips curled in what Jason suspected was supposed to be a smile. "Quite," she murmured, barely touching her fingertips to his outstretched palm. "You can show everything to me later, darling."

"I'd love to. But let's have dinner first, shall we? I'm sure you must be hungry—and I've prepared all your favorite dishes," she babbled, sensing the instantaneous tension in the room. "Jason, why don't you get the cocktails? I have a few last-minute details to take care of in the kitchen."

"Sure." With a gesture, Jason ushered their visitors into the parlor. He gritted his teeth as Rebecca declined the glass of Kir (a mixture of cassis, a blackberry liqueur, and dry white wine) Kat had prepared.

"I've never cared much for cassis. If I might have a medium dry sherry instead," the older woman requested sweetly.

"I'll see if we have some," Jason answered neutrally, opening their meagre liquor cabinet. They didn't drink much besides an occasional glass of wine, and had never felt the need to stock up on alcohol just for it to be there. To his relief, he found a bottle of the requested beverage. Deftly, he removed the cork and poured some of the amber liquid into a cocktail glass.

"If I had known that you have no proper sherry glasses, I'd have given Kat a set for a wedding present," Rebecca murmured, raising an eyebrow as she regarded the glass like one would a particularly offensive bug.

Belatedly realizing that he must have picked the wrong stemware, Jason blushed in embarrassment. He wasn't ashamed of his rather ordinary family background, but it just didn't include things like sherry, fish knives and other social niceties Kat's aunt apparently took for granted.

He decided then and there that he did not like Rebecca Sanders. I don't care if she decked Kat out in silk and velvet when she was a little girl—that broad is a snob! And I can't wait to see her go! Drawing a deep breath, reining in his temper with difficulty, he raised his own wine glass. "How nice you could come visit us. I hope you'll enjoy your stay," was all he said, though. God, the evening has barely started, and I'm already lying through my teeth. How fun. Can't wait until it's over.

Good manners prevailed, though, and Jason made small talk with the Sanderses until Kat called him to help carry the soup tureen to the dining table. Much to her relief, it had turned out perfectly, and once they were done with the course, she replaced the soup plates with four crystal bowls filled with a lumpy-looking concoction in a pinkish sauce. Jason had absolutely no idea what it might be, but he trusted Kat's cooking skills that it would be delicious. There was a faint smell of brandy and mayonnaise rising from it, and curiously he speared one of the lumps on his fork. He was just about to pop it into his mouth when Kat addressed her aunt with a smile.

"I made this especially for you, Aunt Rebecca," she told her. "It's shrimp salad with fresh asparagus tips." And she hoped very much that she'd gotten it right; except for the meat, this was the most expensive item on her menu. Asparagus was not in season, the shrimp were freshly-bought, not frozen, and even the fruit didn't come out of a can. Normally, she could feed Jason and herself for two days with what she'd spent on that one dish alone.

"How thoughtful of you, dear. That's my favorite hors d'oeuvre." Rebecca ate the first mouthful with obvious relish, smiling her approval.

"I know, that's why-" Kat was interrupted by the clatter Jason's fork made as he dropped it to his plate. "Jason? What's wrong?"

He took a sip of his water, then sent her a rueful look.

"I'm sorry, Kat, but... I can't eat this."

She gaped. "What? Why not?"

"I'm allergic to shellfish," Jason explained. "Even a trace of it in any dish gives me hives. A portion like this..." he indicated the crystal bowl before him, "could well send me into anaphylactic shock. My parents found that out the hard way when I was a kid and had a pizza with mussels once. I nearly choked to death, my throat swelled up so fast."

Kat was close to tears. "Why didn't you tell me?" she gasped, torn between horror that she might have unwittingly nearly poisoned Jason—and concern that her aunt might perceive this as an insult to her tastes.

"It just hasn't come up yet," Jason shrugged. "I would have told you if you'd mentioned it."

"I wanted dinner to be a surprise," Kat murmured, still stricken. "Both for Aunt Rebecca and you."

"Well, it would have been a memorable surprise if I'd actually eaten any of this salad, then gone all red in the face, choked and keeled over," Jason tried to joke, but it fell woefully flat. Instead of consoled, Kat just looked outraged. Coughing slightly, he smiled. "Please, don't mind me. I'll just wait until you're finished; I'm sure Kat will have enough of the main course that I won't starve if I pass on the shrimps."

The silence around the dinner table was stifling as the other three ate, more hastily than everybody had intended. Having one member of the dinner party sit unmoving, waiting for one to finish, tended to ruin the best appetite. It certainly spoiled Kat's. Trying to ignore the uneasy (and in Rebecca's case, barely-veiled resentful) glances cast his way as best he could, Jason schooled his face into impassivity as he helped clear the dishes. Just as he was following his wife into the kitchen, he overheard Rebecca murmur to her husband.

"You know, that took all my enjoyment out of it. Nobody dies of shellfish—do they?"

Gary Sanders hadn't said much so far aside from a few pleasantries when entering the Scott house and some small talk over cocktails, and his answer was too low to be heard, but whatever it was, it made his wife subside—even if her expression was still sceptical and even faintly sneering.

Jason rolled his eyes, then took the bowls with vegetables and potatoes which Kat handed him. "This looks great, hon," he murmured.

"I just hope you'll eat it," Kat hissed back—far more sharply than she'd intended. But her already nervous disposition had taken a further dive over the shrimp salad, and irrationally she placed the blame squarely at Jason's feet. She deliberately ignored the perplexed look he gave her and carried the roast to the dining table without further comment.

Much to her relief, everything had turned out perfectly, and the rest of the meal passed in polite, if somewhat strained, conversation. Jason just couldn't seem to find a topic to talk about with Aunt Rebecca, and the older woman made no effort to draw him out, concentrating instead on Kat and her choice of careers. Superficially, she agreed with the choices she'd made, but there still was an undercurrent of reproach when she started to enthuse about the new ballet program at the Sydney Opera House. Rebecca was a patron, often involved in promoting special events and fund raisers; there were strong hints in her reports that she thought Kat could have done much better for herself if she'd only come back to Australia at her suggestion.

Katherine certainly didn't regret following her heart in accepting Jason's marriage proposal, and she was happy with her life, but all this talk about glamorous performances, stage productions and the whole social whirl and prestige associated with a well-renowned theatre resurrected old dreams and hopes. She couldn't help the faint note of regret creeping into her voice as she shared memories with her aunt.

Jason noticed, but hid his feelings—which were growing ever more unfriendly towards Kat's overbearing relative—to himself, not wanting to provoke a fight. But he had a hard time controlling his temper once the dessert dishes were cleared away.

After dinner, they took their visitors on a tour of their house. It was quite spacious and very nice, but a bit of a fixer-upper—otherwise, the young couple could never have afforded to buy it. Luckily the necessary repairs weren't too complicated, and having often worked summers at his father's construction company, Jason knew his way around a toolbox and power tools, but there were still a number of things he just hadn't gotten around to. Others, like the tiles on the patio, were about halfway done; Jason and his father spent every free minute fixing their home to their liking. He was justifiably proud of what he'd accomplished.

However, Aunt Rebecca chose only to see the unfinished projects, dismissing Kat's tasteful decorating efforts with a lukewarm 'very nice, dear' and casting critical eyes on the materials Jason used, on every slightly crooked line or chipped beam. All she would deign to say was an occasional 'Charming, I'm sure'—or words to that effect. Obviously she was not impressed with their accomplishments. Her attitude certainly didn't endear her to Jason, who grew increasingly cool and short in his replies, leaving it to Kat to keep the conversational ball rolling. Which she valiantly did, seething inwardly at his apparent unconcern of how much her aunt's visit meant to her.

Why doesn't Jason make more of an effort to be nice to Aunt Rebecca? He can charm the birds off the trees if he sets his mind to it; why doesn't he do so now? He was so different when Jeremy and his family visited! It's not fair!

They finished their inspection in the living room, where Kat served freshly-brewed coffee and delicate petits fours, frowning when Jason enthusiastically put four of the cream- and chocolate-filled confections onto his plate at once.

"Mmm, my favorites!" He bit the first one in half with gusto.

"Mine, too," Mrs. Sanders muttered under her breath, nibbling far more daintily on hers. She'd only selected two.

Jason blushed slightly as he realized he'd committed another minor gaffe, but shrugged it off. He'd had to forego the shrimp salad already because of his allergy; surely he was entitled to some compensation.

Rebecca then launched into a tale of some of the Hillards' former neighbors—a topic that was not particularly interesting to Jason, since he knew neither the people involved nor the places mentioned. But Kat seemed to be very attentive, so he turned towards the fourth member of their small party, who hadn't said very much all evening. Jason tried to draw Kat's Uncle Gary into conversation—which was hard work, until it came out that he was head of an advertising firm. Jason casually mentioned that the dojo didn't do much beyond passing out home-printed flyers to the local schools and being listed in the Yellow Pages, and soon found himself embroiled in a spirited discussion of how he and his partners might do better in attracting customers even with the very limited budget they had. Soon, the two men left Kat and Rebecca in the parlor and retreated to the small office Jason had set up on the all-weather porch, talking business all the while.

Rebecca looked at their retreating backs with a small, disapproving frown. "You know, Katherine... I've come to expect this kind of behaviour from Gary over the years, but I honestly thought your husband had better manners than that," she commented. "He seems a nice young man."

Her tone made it obvious that she wasn't being altogether truthful, however—it was what Doris Hillard used to call 'damning with faint praise', and Kat flushed.

"He is," she defended Jason. "Only, Jason has never been involved in ballet..."

"Then what interests do the two of you share, dear? Your uncle and I may not do everything together, but we have quite a number of things where we have common ground. To be honest, I always thought you'd marry someone like Daniel Abernathy—remember? That nice young man from Canberra who took you to the Country Club dance right before your father relocated..."

"Dan Abernathy was a stuck-up bore," Kat shuddered. "He may have money and like ballet, but he also has about as much personality as a plastic bucket!"

"Well... he's not very lively, granted, but... a martial artist? I was never so surprised as when I heard what career your husband is following. It seems so... well, unsophisticated, you know? Not at all like what I envisioned for you, darling."

Kat instantly defended Jason, mentioning his appointment to the Youth Teen Summit and his academic successes, but while Rebecca made appropriately congratulatory comments she couldn't shake the feeling that her aunt was just humouring her.

Presently, the men rejoined their wives, still talking shop. Kat tried several times to make the conversation more general, but Jason's mind was still very much on the dojo, and ways to improve their operation.

"I have handled Biolab's Pacific advertising a few years ago," Gary Sanders told Jason casually. "Quite successfully, if I do say so myself. If you like, I could drop a word in Allister Collins' ear; as I understand it, the Silver Guardians are his brainchild, and as his son is running the outfit, I'm certain he'll be amenable to promote the unit. With the kind of training you're going to provide, it'll be very attractive for new recruits."

Jason smiled, pleased. "Thank you, but... I'd rather not take you up on your offer. Not until we've actually proven we can deliver, that is. Teaching combat skills to a paramilitary group is quite different from pure martial arts, after all."

"Hmm, makes sense even if I know next to nothing about fighting," Gary smiled back, not offended by the younger man's refusal. On the contrary, he respected the honesty. And the earnest desire to make his own way Jason was demonstrating. "But if you ever change your mind, give me a call. After all, you're married to Kat—you're family now."

"I'll certainly keep it in mind, sir," Jason replied. "In any case, I'd have to talk it over with my partners first."

"Of course."

Impatient with the men, Rebecca drained her coffee cup and prepared to get up. The visit wasn't going at all like she'd envisioned it—neither was Katherine properly agreeable to her blandishments, nor did this American try to curry her favor as she'd fully expected him to do. Didn't they realise what she could do for them with her money and connections? If Kat would just come back to Sydney, surely there'd be a way to set her husband up in a more socially acceptable line of work... maybe managing a chain of fitness clubs, or representing a sports goods manufacturer, if he absolutely had to be involved with athletics somehow. In any case, something that got him out of actually sweating and wearing exercise clothes all day. She was sure something could be arranged through her connections. Then Kat could start working at the Opera... and incidentally thus give her aunt the 'in' to the artists performing there she so wanted and hadn't found another way to achieve yet. But any hint she'd dropped in that direction had been ignored or dismissed by her niece—and even Rebecca Sanders, formidable as she was, didn't dare approach Jason directly with such a suggestion. He'd made it quite clear early on that he was perfectly content with his small operation. Not even the prospect of earning much more than he ever would in his current line of work seemed able to sway him.

Rebecca didn't understand Jason at all. Nor could she fathom why Kat would choose him over all the benefits she could offer her. She reached for her purse.

"Well, it was very nice visiting you, dear, but I'm afraid we'll have to go now."

"Oh, must you? So soon?" Kat exclaimed, partially truly regretful that her favorite relative wanted to end the visit, and partially relieved that the ordeal it had turned out to be was about to be over.

"Yes, I'm sorry," Rebecca declared firmly. "Gary?" She summoned her husband with a gesture. Sighing, Gary Sanders heaved himself to his feet from his comfortable chair as Kat quickly disappeared to call a cab for their guests.

"Right." He turned towards Jason with a genuine smile. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Jason. You and your friends seem to be exactly the kind of young entrepreneurs which could benefit from my company's sponsoring program."

"Thank you, sir; I appreciate your good opinion. And I'll think about it," Jason answered, pleased, and shook the older man's hand. "If my partners agree... I'll be sure to contact you one way or another."

"Very well. You have both my business and private numbers."

Impatiently, Rebecca interrupted. "Aren't you done yet? The taxi's about to arrive; we mustn't let the driver wait."

Gary amiably said, "Of course, dear," and—his back towards his wife—quickly rolled his eyes at Jason, who suppressed a snicker. Rebecca might be a stuck-up bore, but he couldn't help but like Kat's uncle.

Politely, he held her coat for Mrs. Sanders, then escorted the older couple to the door, a strangely silent Kat at his side. There was a brief farewell, then the usual flurry of leave-taking, admonitions to come visit the Sanderses in Australia sometime (finances permitting) and slamming of car doors, then the cab backed out of the driveway and what Jason was beginning to think of as the visit from hell was finally over.

Kat turned away without a word and marched into the kitchen as soon as she finished waving after the cab. She didn't trust herself to speak, knowing that she'd be saying things to her husband that needed to be dealt with in her own mind first—or they would have a serious argument. Deep down, a small voice told her that Jason wasn't to blame that the visit hadn't been the unqualified success she'd hoped for, but at the moment she was way too upset to heed that warning.

For his part, Jason amiably collected the remaining dishes onto a tray and put the dining room in order again before carrying them into the kitchen. He found Kat busy at the sink, the dishwasher already stacked and just waiting for the last few items while she rinsed the pots and cooking utensils.

Carefully depositing the glassware in the top basket, Jason started whistling tunelessly to himself, his mind already dismissing their visitors and returning to his business. As he filled detergent into the small container, he contemplated their good fortune. I never thought that our Red Ranger mission would result into something like this. But I guess Rangers help each other, no matter what. And even though we don't know Eric and Wes all that well, I think it's gonna be great working for them...

He couldn't wait to tell Kat all about the deal they were about to strike with the Silver Guardians; there really hadn't been enough time to tell her more than the basics due to their visitors.

"You have no idea how glad I am that the afternoon's over," he remarked without thinking. "I mean, not that I begrudge you your aunt's visit, but it really came at a bad time today."

Kat looked at him sharply. "Oh?" How could Jason say that? The visit had been agreed upon for weeks; if anything had come at a bad time, it was his stupid business deal, making him first late, then causing him to be distracted all afternoon!

Oblivious to her mood, Jason grinned deprecatingly. "Yeah. There's so much we have to arrange between us until we've got the logistics figured out... especially with Tommy still out of the picture until he joins the staff full time. Rocky and I will be hopping, that's for sure."

Kat didn't comment. Not that he left her much time to.

"Say, you have afternoon classes on Tuesdays, right? If Rocky's okay with this, that could be my day to drive to Silver Hills. I'm sure I'll be able to grab some lunch there... of course, it'll mean I'll be gone all day, but you won't mind that, do you? After all you won't have to come home during your break, either."

As a matter of fact, Kat did mind. Having lunch with Jason each day, even if it was only a sandwich or some soup, was a pleasant interlude in their busy workday life, and she resented having to give up something she cherished, no matter how financially advantageous it might be.

"Whatever," she muttered, not looking at him.

Jason sighed. "Honey, it can't be helped. You know that Silver Hills is too far away to make the drive feasible more than once each day. And we can't afford to miss out on the contract; it means just too much for all our future—Tommy and Kim's, Rocky and his family and ours."

Is your precious dojo all you can think about? What about me? I need you, too! Kat wanted to ask, but a last shred of rational thought held her back.

"I guess."

At last he caught on to her mood. He dropped the dishtowel he was using to dry one of the pots and stepped up behind her. Winding his arms around Kat's waist, Jason hugged her to him.

"What's the matter, love? Aren't you glad that we won't have to worry about finances so much anymore?"

"Yes..."

"I think I'm hearing a 'but' here," he tried to tease. "What's got your pretty tail all in a kink, Kitty-cat?"

The thinly-disguised cat joke was the last straw. I hate when he's doing that! Bad enough that Mum still calls me Kitty on occasion! Flushing angrily, the dancer whirled around, glaring daggers at Jason.

"Stop that! You know exactly what I'm talking about!"

Surprised, and getting slightly annoyed at what he thought was an unwarranted—and unprovoked!—snit, he let her go.

"No, as a matter of fact I don't," he snapped back, perhaps more sharply than he'd intended. "If I did, I wouldn't have to ask."

"You knew very well how important this afternoon was to me! And you managed to ruin it... first you're late, then you dress like it matters nothing who was coming, then you get the wrong glasses..."

It was as if a floodgate had suddenly opened; all the small (and not so small) aggravations that had accumulated throughout the day poured out in one unstoppable torrent, every little detail that had come together to mar a day Kat had so desperately wanted to be special and perfect in every way. From the sock having missed the hamper to the steamed-up bathroom mirror, the ill-fated shrimp cocktail to Jason's increasingly obvious coolness towards her aunt and his preoccupation with work, the list grew longer and longer the more she spoke. A part of her was appalled at what she was doing and told her to stop before she said something she'd regret later, but Katherine found herself unable to do so. The one thing she did manage to hold back were tears, but she ranted on for several minutes until she simultaneously ran out of air and steam.

"...Aunt Rebecca must think I married a total boor! I told you and told you how important she is to me, how much she's done for me... she was the one who persuaded Mum to let me take ballet lessons to begin with, she paid for them, too... if not for her, I wouldn't have a career that I love at all! And you were all but rude to her all afternoon!"

Jason had listened to his wife with increasing astonishment; he'd honestly thought that, all things considered, the visit had gone over reasonably well. Sure, it hadn't been a fun time for him and he wished it could have been more pleasant for Kat's sake, but personality clashes could happen... and he'd been pretty sure the dislike he'd felt for Rebecca was mutual. He was not at fault, or not much; he'd behaved as usual, done his best, so why was that all of a sudden no longer good enough?

"Excuse me? I was being rude? How about your aunt—she was the one who started with all the sniffs and putdowns. Nothing we showed her in the house was good enough for her; she positively gloated over everything that wasn't finished yet or doesn't have a designer label on it. Didn't you see how she looked down her nose at everything we've done with this place? Because I sure did!"

Kat experienced a momentary flash of discomfort; she had noticed Rebecca's disdainful expressions. But stubbornness, family loyalty and a perverse wish to blame someone for the disappointment the visit had turned out to be made her suppress the feeling.

"Aunt Rebecca has always wanted the best for me," Kat murmured mutinously, forgetting how her words must sound to Jason.

"And I'm not the best, is that it?" Jason replied, angry now... and hurt. "Well, thank you very much! You knew when you married me that I'm not rich—that I'll probably never be rich, either. If you wanted fancy stuff and prep school company, maybe you should have gone back to Australia after all!"

This wasn't what she'd meant! How could Jason so misunderstand her?

"No! I know you have good manners and everything—if you choose to display them, that is. I wonder why you didn't do so today... did you really want to embarrass me like that in front of my aunt? It wouldn't hurt you to show some appreciation for the finer things in life!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Kat wanted to take them back. She knew that she was being not only unfair, but also unjust—she'd just implied that the man she loved was uncouth somehow, that he didn't know how to behave in company, that he'd deliberately set out to be uncivil. Which was completely untrue. But it was too late now—the words had been said, and the damage was done.

How much was obvious in the way Jason's face lost color and how his eyes, those warm, midnight pools she loved to drown in grew distant and cold.

"I see. Well, it's not too late; if you hurry maybe you can still catch your aunt at her hotel. I'm sure she'll be glad to spring you a ticket to Sydney. Then you can take that position at the Opera there and forget all about me!"

The kitchen door closed with a bang as Jason stormed outside, into the garden. Kat watched him leave with a stricken look on her lovely features, and she had to grip the sink's edge with both hands to keep herself upright. The tears she had swallowed all day started to fall at last, wetting her cheeks in salty rivulets, but she did nothing to stop them. A part of her knew she needed the emotional release, futile though it might be—and also that it would be better not to show her turmoil to Jason right now. In his current state of mind, he was likely to think it nothing more than a ploy for sympathy.

How could things go so horribly wrong so fast? Kat wondered as he slowly regained some measure of composure. I didn't mean to hurt Jason; all I wanted was that Aunt Rebecca liked him. But she doesn't; I could see that. And Jason seems to hate her. If he didn't, he would have exerted himself more to be nice, I'm sure.

Wearily, she finished her chores. It was still early, but overcome with sudden exhaustion Kat trudged upstairs and prepared for bed. She was trying to distract herself and picked up a book, but the words on the page made little sense. Then, the door opened and Jason came inside. He cast her a guarded look as he, too, undressed and slipped under the sheet next to her—never saying a word, of either reproach or apology.

Kat sighed. She hated the strained silence between them; but she was also not ready yet to dismiss her grievances and make up. The way she saw it, it was up to Jason to make the first move.

Which he did eventually, but not quite the way she had anticipated or hoped for.

"Look, Kat, I don't want to fight with you anymore. Certainly not over your aunt; who knows if she'll ever visit us again. It's just not worth it. Can't we just chalk up this afternoon as having gone less ideally than we hoped and leave it at that?"

His voice was calm and reasonable, but something indefinable was missing... and Kat was still too upset to realize what it was. Instead, she just seized on the superficial meaning of what Jason had said.

"Sure," she murmured, carefully not meeting his eyes.

"Thanks."

And with that, Jason reached over to his night table and switched off the lamp. He didn't roll over and show her his back... but the stiff posture as he lay on his back, hands tucked behind his neck, was a far cry from the loving embrace she'd gotten used to since their marriage.

Lips quivering but refusing to complain, Kat put a mark into her book and also turned off her bedside lamp. Curling up under her blanket, she fought the need to reach out, to cuddle up in Jason's strong embrace as was her nightly habit.

"Goodnight," she whispered into the darkness, wishing deep within her heart for at least a perfunctory kiss on the cheek to show that things weren't really as bad as they seemed, but it did not come. She stifled a sob, hating the silence between them.

"Night," Jason replied without his usual warmth, hoping for a soft hand to reach out and touch him to let him know Kat wasn't really that mad at him, but he waited in vain. He suppressed a despondent sigh, cursing the barrier that had risen seemingly out of nowhere.

The comfortable room grew quiet as both finally fell asleep.

"We gave each other the silent treatment for weeks afterwards," Kat sighed. "Oh, the next morning everything seemed to be fine on the surface, but... something was definitely missing. The words were all there, we pretended that we'd forgotten, but..."

"I don't understand," Lynne said with a frown. "I'm sorry, Mom, but I really don't see what made you blow up like that."

"Yeah. The Silver Hills contract was the best thing that ever happened to the dojo, from a business standpoint. I don't see how you could blame Dad for being preoccupied about it," Oliver commented, equally puzzled.

"And it wasn't Dad's fault that he couldn't eat your shrimp cocktail because he was allergic to shellfish," Jared added, having picked up on the fact that the special dish Jason declined had played a major role in his mother's mind to ruin her day. "I've seen one of my trainees go into anaphylactic shock once from some ingredient in a muscle relaxant cream; it wasn't pretty. Good thing we had a medic at the rink. So what if it was your aunt's favorite dish? It's not such a big deal, is it?"

"No, it wasn't," Kat admitted, blushing at the censure she saw in her children's eyes. "But that's from hindsight. At the time, though... looking back, I don't understand myself why it upset me so. I only know it did. But overall, I think what really got me going was the fact that Jason and Aunt Rebecca didn't hit it off. It was even worse than Caroline's dislike of you," she remarked to Tommy. "At least she came around eventually, when she saw how happy you and Kim were together."

Tommy shrugged deprecatingly and patted her hand. "Some people just don't click, ever," he said philosophically. "The only strange thing for me is that it happened to Jase. I've never known him to not get along with all kinds of folk... eventually, anyway. I bet that, given half a chance, he'd even have tried to find common ground with Rita and Zedd," he grinned, mentally picturing the scenario. It was... mind-boggling, in a funny sort of way. But I'd have paid good money to see you try, Bro!

"Yes. And Aunt Rebecca always used to be so gracious to everybody," Kat murmured. "She even managed to be nice to the new gardener who uprooted her prized roses by mistake. Which made it all the more strange that they couldn't see eye to eye."

Jasmine was interested in something else. "How did you two manage to make up, though?" she asked curiously. "I mean, neither one of you was—is—the type to hold a grudge for long..."

"And I'd think that with you being pregnant and all you'd forget about it by and by," Rachel added. "I can't imagine fighting with Jared now that every day brings a new development..." Her hand went instinctively to her still-flat stomach. "Didn't you have far more important concerns than a stuffy old relative?"

"Of course we did," her mother-in-law replied. "And after we'd both simmered down, we wanted to reconcile much sooner—as we found out afterwards, when it was all over. Only, we both were too stubborn, waiting for the other to make the first move."

"Doing what? Ask for forgiveness? I don't see that Uncle Jason had much to apologize for," Jay interjected. "Sure, he's made a couple boo-boos, but it was really minor stuff in my opinion. Sorry, Aunt Kat, but I really think it was mostly your fault things got so out of hand."

The girls looked as if they wanted to protest, to support Kat—after all, they all had experienced serious exasperation due to their spouses' behavior at one point or another (and caused a few incidents themselves)—but in all fairness they couldn't. To their relief, Kat didn't refute his conclusion.

"I know. But by the time I was able to admit that to myself, I had no idea of how to broach the subject—much less heal the rift between us. And it grew wider the longer we kept silent."

"Then how did you and Uncle Jase reconcile?" Ramon wanted to know. "Trini and I never had a prolonged fight like that, thank God, but even with a short flare-up it's hard enough to find the right words to make things right again."

"Actually, it took a long talk with my mother," Kat revealed...

"What's the matter, honey?" Doris Hillard asked her daughter outright after she'd shown up unexpectedly in her parents' house one afternoon. "You look like a month of rainy days." A fragrant scent rose from the teapot as she poured boiling water from a kettle into the delicate china, the liquid turning almost instantly to the deep golden-brown color of Kat's favorite Assam blend. She carried the pot and two mugs to the living room, where her daughter was curled up despondently in one corner of the couch, her feet tucked under her.

Kat inhaled the tea's aroma, but it failed to soothe her as it usually did. She dearly needed a confidante, but was hesitant to pour out her woes. After all, she'd promised herself not to run to Mummy at the first sign of trouble; that was just too cliché... and it was her mother's older sister who was a large part of her current problem. But she was reluctant to talk to Kimberly for fear something would get back to Jason via Tommy. Normally, she relished the fact that they had few secrets from their friends, but in this instance... no.

If only Tanya were here!

But her best friend was still living on the East Coast, and it really wasn't the kind of thing you could talk about on the phone, entrust to a letter or discuss via email.

"Nothing," she mumbled, but couldn't quite manage to look into her mother's eyes.

"Uh huh. And it is just coincidence that during last week's dinner you and Jason talked at rather than with each other, right?" The young Scotts met once a month at either Kat's or Jason's parents' house for a family get-together; it had been incredibly hard to hide the coolness between them from their sometimes too-observant parents.

Doris waited a few moments for an answer that wasn't forthcoming, but the slow rise of guilty color in Kat's cheek told its own story to the older woman. Hiding a small smile (after all, she'd been married for over thirty years herself and knew the signs), Mrs. Hillard calmly poured two mugs of tea and urged Kat to help herself to cream and sugar. After they'd both taken a few sips, she decided to cut to the chase.

"Sweetie, don't try to hide from me; I know you too well. Something is wrong, isn't it?" she urged gently. "Let me guess—you and Jason had, or are having, your first serious fight, no?"

Kat felt tears well in her eyes at her mother's astute question. "Oh Mum," she half-wailed. "Everything's so horrible!"

"What is?"

The blonde dancer just shook her head, sniffling. During the past few weeks, she'd repeatedly tried to put her feelings into words, but even in the privacy of her own mind it all sounded so petty and insignificant now

"Did you and Jason have a fight?"

"Uh huh."

"So what was it about?"

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know... and I also don't know how to make things right again. My life is ruined!" Kat proclaimed with a fine air of melodrama, only to scowl unhappily when her mother couldn't help a tiny chuckle.

"Come on, darling. No trouble in paradise can be so bad that it can't be fixed with an apology or a word of forgiveness."

"If it only were that simple," Kat sighed. "I don't even know anymore whether I or Jason should be the one to apologize."

Doris nodded sagely. "Oh. One of those fights, is it?"

"Yes..."

"Well... if you need an ear, I'm right here. I can't promise you a solution to whatever problem the two of you are having, but I do promise to listen."

Oh God, do I ever need someone to listen! But where to start? Where did it all start, anyway?

The answer to that was obvious. With a sigh that seemed to rise from the bottom of the San Andreas fault, Kat began to speak.

"I think it all began to go downhill when Aunt Rebecca sent notice that she was going to drop by..."

Doris had suspected as much. After all, she'd grown up with her sister, and knew her little personality quirks quite well. There had been a time, right before the family had relocated to Angel Grove, that she'd come to... well, not exactly fear the influence Rebecca had had on her daughter, but... she'd been concerned. Right now, though, she determined to hear her daughter out, not commenting at all until she'd wound down.

"... and we've hardly said a truly personal word to each other since," Kat concluded tearfully. "I realize now that I handled things not quite right, but..."

"But you still feel as if Jason was at least partly at fault that your dinner party wasn't the success you wanted it to be, hmm?"

"Yes—if he'd just accommodated Aunt Rebecca's opinions more, been less preoccupied with work... had finished more projects around the house..." Even as she said that last bit, Kat knew she was being unfair. Jason spent every free moment on finishing the various renovations he'd started, she knew he did his best for her, and it wasn't his fault at all that, with Tommy still on the road so much, his time was limited. Truth be told, she liked helping him—or just watching him; just as he kept her company when she was busy with a decorating project, like sewing curtains.

"In short, if Jason had been perfect?"

"Yes! No... he's not, and I don't really want him to be, but... oh, I don't know anymore!" Kat hid her face in her hands. She knew she herself wasn't perfect, not by a long shot. In fact, Kat didn't feel like a grown woman at all. Gone was all the confidence she'd gained as a Ranger, as a respected professional and as a wife and mother-to-be. Instead, she felt like a little girl again who wanted nothing more than Mummy to make everything alright again. "Help me, Mum!"

Mrs Hillard sighed. "I don't know if I can, honey. It sounds to me as if your penchant for perfectionism—which Rebecca has done her fair share to foster in you—has got slightly out of hand. Again." There was no censure in her gentle voice, but Kat still blushed.

"I guess," she admitted in a very small voice. "But is it so wrong to want everything to be as perfect as possible?"

"Not at all. But the key word here is 'possible', not 'perfect'. Tell me... if Jason's job were portable, so to speak, could you imagine taking Rebecca up on her invitation and move to Sydney with him?"

Kat pondered the question. "N-no, I don't think so," she said at last. "I mean, he'd do it for me if it were a once-in-a-lifetime career opportunity for me or the only way both of us could work, but... I just can't picture him in the Country Club scene." She felt vaguely disloyal to her aunt as she said that; after all, Rebecca moved effortlessly in those circles, and at one time it had been her own ambition, too. But that was then...before Jason.

"Why not?"

Kat shrugged. "It's just not his style. Oh, not because I think Jason wouldn't know how to behave or isn't smart enough or anything, because he is, and what he doesn't know he'd pick up in no time, but... there's so much phoniness among the people there, so much glamour and so little substance... I know he'd be miserable. Jason can't live like that."

Her mother hid another smile. "Can you?"

There was a brief silence, then Kat met her eyes fully. "No. Not anymore. I used to love going with Aunt Rebecca when I was a kid; it certainly seemed a desirable enough lifestyle. So elegant, so... sophisticated, I guess—just like in a movie. But I'd rather have what I have now—my friends, my family, everything that I love instead of endless parties and social gatherings with no meaning. Even my job, despite the bothersome parents some of my students have."

"I thought so," Doris replied sagely, pleased that her daughter had learned to value the right things. Then, in an apparent non sequitur, she added, "You know... I love my sister, but sometimes I don't like her very much."

"Huh?" Katherine blurted, thoroughly confused. "What do you mean?"

Her mother poured fresh tea while gathering her thoughts. Settling down with her steaming mug, she regarded Kat with a slightly distant look.

"Even when we were children, Rebecca was always the one who did no wrong. She never, ever brought home the wrong friends, got into mischief, dressed inappropriately or rocked the boat in any way whatsoever. And she expected all of us to do the same—whether it was me, our parents, your uncle... anybody, really. Let me tell you, it was very, very hard sometimes not to do something outrageous simply to rebel against her and her opinions and general attitude."

"Did you?" Kat asked, momentarily distracted from her problems and intrigued despite herself.

"A few times," Doris admitted with a small, reminiscent grin. "But that's a story for another day," she warded off the curious questions she could see were beginning to form. "This is about you and Jason, not me and my dear sister," she reminded.

"You knew when you married Jason that you wouldn't have the kind of socially prominent life Rebecca always propagated. So I'd like to ask you a simple question: Why did you marry Jason?"

Kat's answer was prompt and needed no thought.

"Because I love him."

What other reason would I need?

Pleased, Doris nodded. She hadn't been wrong about her daughter's motives, then.

"What about all the things Rebecca was sneering at—and don't try to tell me otherwise; I've known her since childhood, after all—his lack of family money, his rather ordinary job, his lack of social ambition? Your nice but not spectacular house?"

The blonde looked at her mother with bewildered eyes. "What about them? I don't care about any of that; never really have... and I love our house!"

"Then why do you care so much about what your aunt thinks?"

Kat opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again with a faint snap. She hadn't looked at things from that angle at all, but it was a very good question. If she truly didn't, why had she been so upset?

"Well... I guess it's not really that, but that Aunt Rebecca was so... so disdainful about our house, our having to live on a budget, about the things we don't have yet or couldn't possibly ever afford..." she fumbled at last.

"In other words, material things?"

"Um... yeah. I think so." Put like that, it sounded even more petty and inconsequential than before, and Kat could feel her cheeks heat up again—this time with shame. I'm not like that! I'm not! And if I am, I don't want to be!

Doris regarded her daughter seriously. "There you have it, then. It hurts to say this about my own sister, but Rebecca is the kind of person who would never have married a man just for love. Oh, she and Gary are happy enough, I know; they suit each other very well. But I'm quite certain that she'd have refused his proposal if he'd not been wealthy, successful and connected. She'd have regretted turning him down, yes, but she wouldn't have hesitated to follow her head and ambition instead of her heart. And I'm quite glad to know that you and I are different from her in that regard."

"So am I," Kat admitted without reserve, reaching out for her mother's hand and giving it a grateful squeeze. Finding a kindred spirit in Doris did a lot to restore her perspective. "I mean, I can't deny it'd be nice not to have a mortgage, or budget our money, or to have the house all finished and stuff. But on the other hand, it's also nice to figure out ways to accomplish things without just going to a store, point at something and pull out a credit card."

The older woman leaned back in her chair with a pleased smile, satisfied that Kat had the right values after all.

"Even if the things you 'figured out' aren't perfect?"

"Yes," Kat replied with conviction, suddenly thinking about the fun she and Jason often had on weekends browsing stores, catalogues, yard sales... even if they brought home nothing but ideas and inspiration.

"There you have your answer, then." Doris told her.

"I do? And what was my question, anyway?" Kat wanted to know, rather bewildered.

"Your question was whether your aunt's opinion about the life you've chosen truly matters more to you than what you share with your husband. And your answer..."

"... is that it doesn't. Not one whit," the blonde realized, her gloomy mood vanishing like a thundercloud before a strong, refreshing wind. Feeling suddenly energized, Kat sat her mug on the polished table top with a clatter.

"I've got to go," she announced, virtually jumping up from the couch and hunting for her shoes.

"You do? Go where?"

"Home. Back to Jason." In more than one sense!

Not really surprised, Doris watched her slip into the stylish, but very non-designer footwear.

"Thanks, Mum," Kat called over her shoulder, already halfway to the door.

"Anytime, dear,"—but the door clicked shut on any reply the younger woman might have made. With a small laugh and headshake, Doris got up as well and collected their tea things. "Good luck, children," she murmured to herself, and as she went into the kitchen had to grin at a thought.

Have fun making up, you two!

Kat let herself into their house quietly, still thinking of ways how best to approach Jason. She'd tossed around ideas in her mind all the way back from her parents', but hadn't come to a satisfactory conclusion yet. As she took off her shoes and placed her keys into the pottery bowl on the hallway table, she noticed the two brass sconces flanking the mirror hanging above it. They were plain, oval shapes, each holding a white candle... and had been bought for only $35 at a quaint little store a block down from the Stone Canyon branch of the Red Dragon dojo. Kat had been quite delighted when she'd found them by chance while waiting for her husband to finish a class one day, and spent a few hours painstakingly polishing them to a warm, mellow golden sheen that went perfectly with her décor. Jason liked them, too, but all Aunt Rebecca had had to say was that they weren't old enough to be called antiques.

Well, bugger her! She thought rather inelegantly. If she doesn't like them, she doesn't have to live with them!

As she wandered through the house in search of Jason, her gaze fell on things here and there. There was the milky-white Murano glass lamp with the fluted edge hanging over a side table; ordered from a catalogue, but exactly the kind of thing Kat had wanted. The vase inherited from one of Jason's great-aunts—not valuable at all, but a lovely shape, and the dark wine color provided just the right touch between the two front windows. The photo collage their friends had given them on their engagement, showing scenes from their school days. The bit of lace decorating the sideboard, a spontaneous purchase (and gift from Jason) on one of their forays to a yard sale in another part of Angel Grove. The Chagall print above the couch in its simple but elegant frame that matched her curtains to perfection, a wedding present from Adam and Tanya. Other 'treasures' were hidden in their cupboards or on display here and there, none of them of great material worth, but chosen, given or collected with love and care, and an eye for both beauty and function.

I wouldn't exchange any of this for all the antiques and originals Aunt Rebecca owns. Because this is all mine—well, ours—and it fits us. We're comfortable with what we have. And more importantly, we're happy. And nothing Aunt Rebecca can say will make me think otherwise again. So there!

Impulsively, Kat stuck out her tongue at the far-away Rebecca Sanders.

How could I ever let her influence me so? Probably because I used to admire her so much as a child, Kat realized. But her life isn't mine; and favorite aunt or not, she can just take her criticism and jump off Ayers Rock, for all I care!

Finally, she spied Jason out in the garden. He'd been hidden from her sight until now because he was working on his knees, painstakingly fitting another row of Mexican tiles onto the concrete patio. The matt glaze was basically a terracotta reddish-brown, shaded to a dark yellow towards one edge. They'd decided on a simple pattern—placing one vertical with two horizontal tiles, then alternating it in the next row—that was both attractive and would be easy to care for. And as the patio was already even and a basically rectangular shape, Jason's father had shown them how to do the job themselves and thus save the fee for a professional.

He was almost three-quarters done, and with summer right ahead they would be finished just in time for the end-of-season sales on lawn furniture. Kat had already browsed through a few garden centers to get an idea of what she wanted, and hoped that the things she liked would be reduced once they got around to the actual buying.

It'll be so lovely to sit out here, relaxing after work and watch the sunset with Jason, or maybe have a drink with Kim and Tommy... and that secluded corner over there will be perfect to put up a playpen once our baby is born!

But she was definitely getting ahead of herself here; first of all she needed to make up with Jason so that she'd have her husband to watch the sunset with.

Kat waited at the French door leading from the living room into the garden until Jason finished with his current stack of tiles; only when he was about to reach for the trowel to spread out more sticky base did she call his name.

"Jason?"

He looked up at his wife. "Yeah?"

"Do you have a minute?" Kat asked, her voice soft and pleading and her heart in her eyes.

Jason shrugged, dropping the trowel back into the container of base. "Sure. What's up?" He rose fluidly to his feet, wiping his hands on an old rag he'd stuck into the belt of his ratty jeans. Kat couldn't help but admire his unconscious athlete's grace... and felt her mouth go dry with longing as his muscles, splendidly displayed by his tank top, rippled smoothly under his tanned skin.

I so want to touch him! And kiss him, and nibble, and...

She stopped herself before she lost it completely. With any luck, she might just get to do that—and much more!—a bit later. First, though...

"I... I'd like to talk with you. But it can wait if you don't have time right now," she added hastily, not wanting to seem pushy or disturb him in some task.

Jason regarded his wife guardedly as he laid down a few planks to walk over; lately, they'd hardly communicated beyond everyday necessities. He desperately wanted his Kat back, the loving, warm, affectionate woman he loved so much, but ever since her aunt's visit she had hidden behind a veritable Ice Queen. If only the deal with the Silver Guardians hadn't gone down that very day... Jason was now ready to admit that he'd let his good manners slide under the elation of having found a way to secure the dojo's financial future.

If that old bitch had just been a tad more friendly... if Kat had not criticized nearly every move I made that day... if I only had managed to put work out of my mind for a few hours...

But Rebecca hadn't, Kat had, Jason hadn't... and things had been going to Hell in a handbasket ever since. And he didn't know how to stop the trip.

I want her back! I want things the way they were, not like they are now!

"Nah, it's cool. My knees could use the break, anyway," he said with a casualness he didn't really feel. With a last small hop, he reached the wide step right at the house's wall, and found himself suddenly face-to-face with Katherine. They hadn't truly been that close to each other since that miserable afternoon a few weeks ago, and it took his breath away with longing. Her pale-gold hair framed a face Jason saw in his dreams every night, sweetly loving in some, flushed with passion in others... and coldly angry in a few that bordered on nightmares. Now Kat's expression was... shy? Embarrassed? Determined? Apologetic? Hopeful? All of the above?

Jason felt his pulse speed up suddenly—and it was not from the physical work he'd been doing. Because if he was reading his wife right, she was feeling all of the things he was experiencing himself; a whole welter of emotions that was at once confusing and encouraging.

Midnight-dark eyes met crystal blue ones, and hope rose suddenly, making him catch his breath. Jason opened his mouth to say something, but found himself stopped by a soft, more than slightly unsteady hand touching his cheek.

"Jason, I-" Kat started, only to be interrupted by the deep voice she loved so much, in a tone that rarely failed to send pleasurable shivers down her spine. Now was no exception.

"Kat, honey..."

Suddenly, words weren't necessary at all. As Jason's hand covered hers and pressed it against a slightly stubbly cheek, a smile blossomed around Kat's rosy mouth that proved irresistible to Jason. He impulsively closed the few inches separating them and touched his lips to hers.

At first, their kiss had a tentative quality to it, but as neither drew away (as they'd both done all too often in the past few weeks), it deepened gradually, going from pleased surprise to passion within a very few heartbeats.

It lasted a small eternity... and yet not long enough; only the need to breathe made them stop.

Her head spinning with joy, Kat nevertheless tried to speak, easily finding the words that had seemed so hard only this morning.

"I'm sor-" she started, avidly returning the kisses Jason was dusting all over her face, only to have them swallowed by his mouth.

"Don't apologize," Jason told her lovingly once he was done. "If you do, I'll have to grovel, and you know I don't do that well." He fervently hoped that his attempt at humor wasn't going to be rebuffed. He needn't have worried.

Kat gave him a tiny, relieved grin... and another kiss. "Okay. Still, I shouldn't have been so unreasonable and bitchy."

"No, you shouldn't have. But I could have made more of an effort, been less preoccupied with work," he replied, nuzzling at her cheek. Both knew what the other was referring to; there was no need for a more detailed explanation.

"Yes, you could..."

They stared at each other, both sporting expressions that were a strange mixture of remembered outrage and overwhelming relief... which slowly mutated into delight at the realization that they were on the same wavelength again, no longer talking at cross purposes... that without another word their fight was finally over.

"That's it? It's over?" Jason asked nonetheless, needing to make sure.

"It is for me," Kat confirmed, feeling herself go giddy at being back in Jason's arms—where she belonged.

"Me too," he murmured, reclaiming the so-inviting lips just touching his chin. Later, they would talk things over in greater detail, he knew, and would welcome the opportunity to clear the air of all lingering resentments, but that was something best left to another time. Right now, they both had another, better thing on their minds.

Much better!

"Mmm. Don't stop," Kat moaned softly as his none-too-clean hands began to roam. Not that she cared; they could get cleaned up together... later.

Much later!

"Don't worry, I won't," he reassured her, taking a step inside the house and gently urging Kat along. His goal was the staircase leading up... towards their bedroom. She followed him willingly.

"Don't you have work to do?" she suddenly remembered as a turn brought her eyes back to the patio. "What about the tiles?"

"The tiles can wait. I can't."

"Oh. Good!"

"My mother helped me see that Aunt Rebecca wasn't the paragon I'd built her up to be as a young teenager," Kat concluded with a rueful smile. "I had let myself be blinded by her unquestionable generosity towards me, by her wealth—which was very impressive, I have to admit... and even though I'd grown past that, it all came back in a rush when she visited us. And knowing that she didn't understand the choices I'd made, that she even sort of pitied me for not having married someone she approved... plus Jason's apparent indifference towards her... it just piled up, and that's why I overreacted so."

"I'm sure that your hormones being out of whack because of your pregnancy didn't help, either," Lynne suggested, having experienced a few unreasonable moments herself not too long ago. She sent a glance towards Rachel.

"I know it sounds clichéd, but you gotta watch out for that," she cautioned her newly-pregnant sister-in-law, then turned on her brother. "And you cut Rach some slack when it happens, you hear?"

Jared grinned, but nodded agreeably. "Sure. As long as I have fair warning."

"There is no warning most of the time," Ramon sighed, with a faintly mocking, long-suffering glance at Trini. "You just gotta learn to roll with the punches, kid." His wife, having been pregnant four times, promptly glared daggers at him, but a faint blush gave her away, to amused (and sympathetic) snickers from Jay and Oliver. Jasmine just rolled her eyes; her generally even temperament, inherited from Adam, had spared Oliver more than a few spats over the course of their marriage.

Kat's youngest looked at his wife, slightly askance. "You don't take after your mother in that regard, have you?" Connie DeSantos Cranston was the sweetest, calm and serene person imaginable, but woe to anyone who got in her path at the wrong moment! Billy had once jokingly confided to his friends that he was seriously contemplating setting up regular delivery of kitchen crockery with a nearby department store, they tended to break so much.

Rachel smiled sweetly. "Wait and find out, dear," she cooed.

"Uh-oh. I think I'm in trouble," Jared sighed resignedly, but winking at his lovely wife. Much to his relief, the redhead winked back. Oliver, who hadn't noticed, gave his brother a smirk.

"Don't think, bro—I know!"

The family broke into laughter, and turned their thoughts back to what Kat had just told them. She, too, was smiling broadly.

"Anyway, that was the most serious disagreement I ever had with Jason—and for really insignificant reasons, too. We had arguments over much more serious issues in later years, but the episode taught us a valuable lesson in patience, tolerance and regard for the other's feelings. We never let get things so out of hand again—and I'll be forever grateful to my mother that she helped me find my way out of an unbearable situation by explaining a few things about Aunt Rebecca. So I guess you can say that it wasn't wasted after all."

"Did your aunt ever accept Dad for what and who he was?" Lynne asked curiously. Neither of the Scott children had ever met their great-aunt; the one time they had all managed to visit Kat's home country as a family she had been on a Caribbean cruise with her husband. As for their other relatives—Tommy's brother David, Kim's brother Ken, the DeSantos/Diaz clans—none of them would even dream of being so censorious of their lives.

"Well... I don't really think so, but she did come to terms with the choices I'd made for myself eventually," Kat explained. "If she hadn't, she never would have left us the rosebud dinner set in her Will—the bequest was to 'her niece Katherine and husband', after all."

"Ah, I see," Lynne smiled. The inheritance in question was two full dinner- and coffee sets of Limoges china, painted with exquisite pink rosebuds, matching silverware and crystal stemware—for twenty-four persons, after the European fashion. When the time came, it would be passed on equally to Kat's three children. While Lynne was looking forward to having something so nice, she hoped it would be a very long time yet until she received her share—for that would mean that her mother would have left her, too. And she definitely didn't want to contemplate that!

Tommy suddenly laughed. His brown eyes were sparkling with mirth as he looked at his bride.

"You still haven't told the kids the real reason why Jase was in the doghouse for ages, hon," he chuckled. "Because I'll have you know, that came soon after he made up with your mom," he stage-whispered to the Scott kids.

"Really? What happened?" Oliver queried, dark eyes alight with curiosity.

"Nothing much, really—it was just something Jase said when the two of them explained to the rest of us why they'd fought in the first place. Because naturally we had all noticed something was wrong; we just hadn't wanted to butt in."

"What did Dad say?" Jared wanted to know.

"Thomas Oliver, don't you dare repeat that! You'll be in the doghouse much longer than Jason was if you do," Kat warned, fighting a reluctant smile, but she couldn't help getting a sinking feeling that he wouldn't heed her. To her chagrin, Tommy was still something of the daredevil he'd been as a teenager... and still unable to resist any kind of dare.

"Well, the one thing that truly set your mother off was when Jason tried to give an explanation for her uncharacteristic behaviour."

Lynne impatiently nudged her father-in-law. Kat's faint scowl and twitching lips had her thoroughly intrigued, too.

"Don't stall, Uncle Tommy—what did he say?"

Tommy couldn't hold back his laughter any longer. He grinned and winked rakishly at Kat, poked his tongue into his cheek... and prudently moved out of her immediate reach.

"It was the biggest mistake Jason ever made within my hearing. And not only that, he managed to piss off Kim, Tanya, Aisha, Sarah and your Mom all in one go," he revealed. "He must've had a death wish or something. Because when Rocky asked him outright what, in his opinion, had made Kat so irrationally mad, he tried to play it down and said..."

Tommy paused dramatically, just long enough for everybody to hear Kat's resigned groan.

"Jason said, and I quote, 'For once, Kat was having a blonde moment'."

Chapter 23: Days Of Darkness, Ray Of Light

It was finally time to sample the eggnog; as Lynne and Jay filled glasses for everybody, Kat was idly leafing through the scrapbook on her lap just before she put it on the stack with the others. There were so many memories stored within its pages... she knew that if they lingered over each picture, they'd still be sitting here on New Year's Day! Kat smiled as she glanced at a few here and there. However, she had to swallow hard despite herself when she came across a photograph showing her with Oliver, Lynne and a pre-teen Jared in front of their fireplace at home, an evergreen garland draped around the mantelpiece and a fat red candle burning brightly in the background.

"Oh my," she whispered, letting the scrapbook fall weakly to her lap as the memory overwhelmed her.

"What is it, Mom?" Lynne asked concernedly, took one look at the picture in the top left corner of the page and sniffled once, too. Seeing her family's slightly alarmed glances, she forced a smile. "This was the Christmas picture we sent out the year Dad died," she murmured.

"I remember," Jay said quietly, hugging his wife. "It's strange, but whenever I think back to that particular Christmas, I'm both sad and happy."

"How so?" Ramon wondered. "Sad I can understand; after all, Uncle Jason wasn't gone all that long, and I know that the first major holiday without a loved one is always hard." He was thinking about his grandmother DeSantos, who had died a few years before after a mercifully short bout with cancer. "Why would you be happy, though?"

"Didn't we spend that Christmas Eve with you and Aunt Kim?" Jared asked Tommy.

"Yes we did—and I gave Kim her first scrapbook," Kat replied, having regained her composure. "And I suspect Jay is happy because he and Lynne fell in love that night, didn't you, hon?"

"Well, she was so unhappy; I had to do something to cheer her up, didn't I?"

"So you just went ahead and made a pass at my little sister," Oliver groused. "If I had known that at the time..." The threat implicit in his words was belied by the affection in his eyes he had for his best friend.

"It was about the best present I ever had," Lynne smiled, leaning back against Jay's chest. "It certainly taught me one thing—that even out of complete misery can come something good."

~*~

"I'll get it," eighteen-year-old Jay called, and moved quickly to the front door when the bell rang. I just hope this isn't somebody out to collect for some charity again, he thought. Something that had happened four times already this Christmas Eve.

But no, their expected guests had finally arrived—all but one, that is.

"Hey guys," Tommy and Kimberly's son said softly as he let the Scott siblings into the house, their arms filled with presents. "Glad you could make it."

He relieved his best friend Oliver of the packages he held, dumped them hastily on the nearest side table, then helped 16-year-old Lynne out of her jacket. She gave him a wan smile for his efforts and immediately turned towards her younger brother, 10-year-old Jared. The boy seemed on the verge of tears. Come to think of it, none of them looks exactly happy, Jay mused, but given the likely reason, he kept his silence. "Come on in."

In the warm, cosy Oliver family room, the lights were twinkling merrily on the Christmas tree, its base heaped with gaily-wrapped packages of all shapes and sizes. Tommy was at the stereo putting on some carols, Kim called a hello from the kitchen and Trini smiled at them from the candles she was lighting on the festively-decorated dinner table.

"Hi, Lynne," she greeted her older friend.

"Hi, Trini," came the rather listless reply. "Uncle Tommy."

"Good evening, kids," Tommy said genially, scanning the room for another presence. "Where's your mom?"

A heavy silence filled the cheery room all of a sudden.

"She went to the cemetery," Oliver finally murmured. "Again."

Tommy closed his eyes in sudden pain. Of course. Where else would Kat be, tonight of all nights? "Oh Lord. Does she have a car?"

"No, she sent me on," Oliver said more strongly. "She said she'd walk..." His tone clearly indicated he hated the idea of leaving Kat behind by herself, but Tommy knew that he couldn't go against his mother's wishes in this. He was the man of the house now; his younger siblings were his responsibility, and like his father, he wasn't going to shirk it. Nodding once sharply, he put down the stack of CDs he was holding.

"Well, we can't have that," he declared firmly. "You guys help Kim; I'll go pick her up." He was already in the hallway, reaching for his jacket and car keys. Kimberly appeared from the kitchen, a pot holder in her hand.

"You're going to fetch Kat?" she asked softly, having overheard the exchange.

"Yeah," he replied just as quietly. "If I don't, she's likely to stay at the grave for hours or go back home on her own. I don't want the kids to worry, and besides..."

"... you don't want her to be alone. I understand, Tommy." Kim kissed her tall husband quickly. "Just drive carefully, okay?"

"Sure. Be back in a flash."

~*~

As he maneuvered his car through the gathering darkness to the cemetery, Tommy let his mind wander back to late September—shortly after both Jason's 46th birthday and the Scotts' twentieth wedding anniversary. It had been such a happy month for all... only to end in devastating tragedy. As if it was yesterday, he remembered the events of that fateful day.

The dojo's office phone had rung innocently enough, and since he was rummaging for a registration form—there was a potential new student waiting outside—in his desk anyway, Tommy answered himself.

"Red Dragon Dojo, Tom Oliver speaking. How can I help you?" he said pleasantly, continuing to riffle through a stack of papers with his free hand. For a few seconds, there was no sound, then a heartrending sob came through the receiver.

"Tommy... oh God, Tommy..."

Startled, Tommy let the papers fall. The voice was obscured by tears, but he'd recognize that soft accent anywhere. "Kat? What's the matter?" His immediate thought was that something had happened with one of the kids, or maybe the Hillards or Scotts. Kat's father had had a mild stroke in January, and Helen Scott had been ailing for a while now. "Jase is already on his way home from Silver Hills, he called me right before he left. He should be home any minute," he tried to calm her. But to his shock, Kat cried even harder.

"No... no, he won't," she choked. "Tommy...Captain Stone just came by; there... there's been an... an accident."

Icy fear gripped Tommy's heart. "Lord, please, no," he breathed. No wonder Kat was beside herself! "What hospital is he in? I'll meet you there right away," he promised. His class could go home early for once, and Mike, the student trainer, could close up... he'd call Kim to stay with the kids, if Kat hadn't already done so... Tommy's whirling thoughts came to an abrupt halt when Kat's voice suddenly went very quiet, interrupted only by occasional sniffles.

"Jason... Jason's not at the hospital, Tommy," she whispered brokenly, barely audible. "T-there was no need... not anym-more..."

It took a few moments for the meaning of her words to sink in—then Tommy felt himself go weak at the knees and the blood rush from his face as he blanched as white as his gi. Blindly, he reached out to steady himself against a filing cabinet.

"No..."

It was impossible—it just couldn't be! Only a few hours ago, Jason had teased him about oversleeping that morning, had laughed with him, had made plans to take their sons rafting this weekend. It was unthinkable that such a vital, energetic person like his best friend should have been reft from them—from the family he loved so much.

Jason can't be... be dead!

His eyes filled with tears, but calling on all his discipline he forced them down. He was needed now, for whatever assistance he could give.

"I'll be right over," he rasped.

"Th-thank you..."

His mind nearly blank with shock, Tommy took a few deep breaths, trying to think. He'd call Kim on the way from his car phone; someone would need to inform the kids—oh God, the kids! How could he tell them that their beloved father would never come home again? He had no idea. Lynne was supposed to be at their house; he hated placing that burden on Kimberly, but it couldn't be helped. He didn't know where Jared might be, but Oliver... Oliver was at the Stone Canyon facility, training with Jay and Ramon for an upcoming tournament. Rocky. Rocky'll be there. He'll have to break it to the boys. Sorry, man.

Snatching up his keys, he flung a few instructions at Mike and ran towards his car. He didn't want to think about how Kat must be feeling now. Easing into the late afternoon traffic, Tommy battled the temptation to floor it as if he were still on the racetrack. One accident per day was plenty.

He was lucky to get to their street reasonably fast; the two inevitable stops at red lights he'd used to call Kim and Rocky, shocking them as much as he'd been. Both promised to bring the Scott children home as quickly as possible.

Capt. Stone's black-and-white was still in the driveway, and for a second Tommy was glad that their old acquaintance hadn't left Kat alone, then the feeling faded. It seemed as if his throat was clamped in a vise, making it impossible to speak as he walked towards the side entrance. Entering the cool kitchen, Tommy instinctively turned towards the living room. As he'd known, Kat was there, before the fireplace... with a very uncomfortable-looking Jerome Stone standing a few feet away. The look of relief on his lined face would have been comical under any other circumstances, but Tommy hardly saw him. All his attention was focussed on the slender blonde, whose tragic blue eyes met his across the room.

"Tommy," she whispered hoarsely, reaching out to him with a helpless gesture. "Tommy, Jason is gone..." Tears spilled afresh down her too-pale cheek.

"God, Kat," Tommy choked. He never hesitated, just drew Kat into his arms, his own eyes overflowing as he felt her tremble. Violent sobs shook her body as she clung to him. Lost in their grief, neither noticed Capt. Stone quietly leave.

"I'm so, so sorry..."

~*~

It had been inadequate then; it was more so at the funeral a few days later. Kat was still pale, looking waif-like in the slim black dress she was wearing. But her tears were silent now; to her friends it was obvious that she was doing her utmost to be strong for her children and Jason's devastated parents. Oliver, looking more like Jason than ever, watched in stony silence as the coffin was lowered into the ground. Lynne was sobbing helplessly, and Jared wouldn't let go of Kat's hand, visibly torn between emulating his older brother's shaky stoicism and giving in to a child's need to cry.

All four dropped small bouquets of three red roses each into the open grave, murmuring words of farewell too softly for anyone else to hear. Then, they left with the immediate family, letting Tommy arrange everything else. He could hardly bear to talk about refreshments, of accepting condolences and whatnot, but it was the last service he could render for Jason—his best friend, comrade-in-arms, closer than a brother. And there were a lot of people filing by; Jason had been well-liked and had been active in a lot of community programs. All of their friends were there, of course, the students from the dojo, a delegation of the Silver Guardians Jason had trained...

Even some of the other Red Rangers had shown up—Carter Grayson solemn in his fireman's uniform, Eric Myers saluting Jason one last time as Wes Collins, in a sombre dark business suit, looked on silently.

When the last mourner had left, only their friends gathered round, to also say their good-byes. It nearly broke Tommy, who had been too blessedly busy to grieve yet. That would come tonight, when he'd be alone with Kimberly. Absently, he dried his cheeks. There was no shame in crying for someone you loved.

~*~

He could park his car in almost the exact same spot as during the funeral, Tommy noted in passing as he walked slowly along the path on nearly-deserted Angel Grove Cemetery to a grave he knew to find blindfolded. A grave that shouldn't be there yet—not for a long time. As he approached the location, he saw Kat kneeling on the moist earth, her shoulders shaking in silent sobs. A bowl with bright-red poinsettias had been placed in front of the headstone, the vibrant color a painful reminder of the person lying buried there. Only when he stood directly behind the weeping woman could Tommy read the simple inscription on the polished black marble. Gold letters gave only a name, and the years of birth... and death.

Tommy waited a few minutes, fighting down his own fresh rush of grief, but Kat either hadn't noticed him yet... or didn't want to acknowledge his presence. She continued to cry softly, the sound forlorn in the still, cool air. At last, Tommy placed a gentle hand on her trembling back.

"Kat," he called her softly. "It's me, Tommy. Come on, honey, you need to get up."

With a resigned sigh, Kat rose stiffly, her lovely face tear-stained and full of sadness. She didn't look at her friend, but continued to stare at the headstone.

"Why did he leave us, Tommy?" she choked out at last. "Why did Jason have to die?"

He pulled her into a comforting hug, his own eyes moist. "I wish I knew," he sighed. "I keep telling myself it was fate, but..." Tommy shrugged, feeling as helpless—and furious at the universe—as he'd been when he'd gotten the news. He'd called Capt. Stone later that night to learn details about the accident; Kat had been too distraught to remember much. Jason had been driving home from work with the Silver Guardians when suddenly a ball bounced onto the street before him, immediately followed by two young children. In an action as natural as breathing to the man they were mourning, Jason had yanked the steering wheel around, swerved out of the way... and crashed into an oncoming truck. The other driver had been hospitalised for weeks, but Jason... best friend, beloved father, adored husband... had died in the accident due to a faulty airbag.

"At least his quick reaction saved those kids," Tommy said lamely, knowing that it was little comfort to the grieving woman clinging to him. "If he had to die young at all, it's the way he would have wanted to go—saving someone else."

"I know that," Kat sniffled. "It doesn't help."

"No, I don't think it would," Tommy murmured, aware of how inadequate words were.

"God, Tommy, I miss him so!"

"I know, honey. I know. We all do." He tightened his arms around Kat, giving her at least what little comfort a friend's touch could bring. He could feel the still-slender form shake against him, but he said nothing, just waited for the fresh storm of tears to subside. When it finally did, Kat rested her head on his shoulder with a weary sigh. Without thinking, Tommy pressed a light kiss against her forehead. He knew Kim wouldn't mind.

At last, he released Kat. Tilting her chin up with one finger, he summoned a smile he wasn't truly feeling. "Let's go home, dear. Kim and the kids are waiting."

"I don't really feel like company, Tommy," Kat demurred. "This is the first Christmas without Jason, and..."

"... and what you and your children don't need is to sit at home by yourselves, staring at the walls, seeing Jase everywhere you turn," he interrupted her. "Kat—I know this is hard for you, but please—can't you make an effort? At least for Jared's sake, if not your own?"

"What do you think I've been doing each day since the accident?" Kat demanded angrily, but she didn't resist when he firmly but gently guided her to the cemetery's exit and his car. "If it weren't for the kids, trust me, I'd have joined Jason by now!"

"Don't even think that!" Tommy exclaimed. "Kat—you're needed here. By your children—would you want to leave them orphans? By your students, your friends... trust me, we can't let you go, too. Even if it's only to help me keep Jason's memory alive," he added more quietly. "He would want you to live."

"I don't know if I can, without him," the blonde woman whispered as she let Tommy buckle her in. "God, Tommy, I loved him so much...!"

"I know. So did I."

Infinitely sad blue eyes met gentle brown ones. The two exchanged a long look that spoke of shared grief and deep understanding for the other's loss. Kat was the first to break away. Leaning back against the headrest, she closed her eyes and kept silent, lost in her memories of happier times as her husband's best friend drove back towards his home.

~*~

Once they arrived, Kim wordlessly drew Katherine into a long hug, not wasting any words but showing her nonetheless that she had all the support she needed—if she asked for it, or not. Adopting a purposely businesslike tone, the petite brunette then hustled off her friend to the bathroom so she could wash the tearstains off her face, and commandeered the youngsters to help her carry food to the table. Within minutes, all eight were seated, the places arranged in such a way that there was no empty space... except in all of their hearts. However, the festive dinner and the excitement slowly creeping into young Jared's eyes as he snuck peeks at the presents soon lightened the mood, and a glass or two of wine brought some color back into Kat's too-pale cheeks.

She even managed a tiny smile or two as the evening progressed, letting her friends fill at least some of the emptiness in her heart with their caring.

I couldn't have borne staying at home without Jason to share things, she realized. Putting up the decorations without him was hard enough. And the children need cheering up as much as I do. Thank you, Tommy and Kim!

Presents were duly exchanged, and the Oliver clan did their collective best to make it into a happy occasion, teasing the girls about the fashionable clothes and cosmetics they'd wished for and even goading young Jared into a loud, laughing protest when the two older boys tried to snatch his Lego Technics construction set away from him. The Scott children had pooled their funds and given their mother a ticket for a performance of the Bolshoi Ballet, who'd be touring California this coming spring. There was body lotion for Kimberly, a new martial arts DVD for Tommy, books and CDs for their friends. Tommy and Kim had chosen to give Kat a block of hand-made certificates, good for everything from babysitting Jared to yard work, to help Kat share her fresh burden of single-parenthood.

For her part, Kat handed over mementos of Jason she knew would be treasured and appreciated—a scrapbook of photos and other mementoes for Kim from their earliest childhood to when Jason left for Geneva, and for Tommy the silk black belt Jason had worn the last time the two had competed against each other... and Jason had won.

His throat clogged with tears, Tommy ran his fingertips over the embroidery with Jason's name and degree. "Thanks, Kat," he murmured. "I'll honor this as I would him."

"I know you will, Tommy," Kat replied softly, then, to keep herself from starting to cry again turned to Kimberly, asking her to tell stories about some of the pictures.

~*~

Oliver and Jared were happily involved in figuring out the building instructions on the boy's Lego kit; Trini—like the woman she was named for—was already engrossed in one of her books and the adults were talking quietly amongst themselves when Jay returned from the kitchen with a plateful of cookies and noticed that Lynne was missing. Depositing the pastry on the coffee table, he quietly went in search of his best friend's sister.

He found her on the glassed-in porch, her head with its shoulder-length dark hair leaning against one of the panes, staring out into the night-shrouded garden. She looked very young and forlorn standing there like that, her cobalt-blue sweater the only splotch of color in the empty room. On near-silent feet, Jay padded closer.

"Hey, kiddo," he called out softly. "Want some cookies?"

Lynne just shook her head, not even bothering to turn around. "No," she whispered almost inaudibly. "I'm not hungry." She'd only nibbled at her dinner, too.

Jay walked up to her. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he squeezed once.

"Some company, then? I don't like you being all by yourself on Christmas Eve," he said. His only answer was a small sigh.

"What's wrong, Lynne?" he asked after a moment's deliberation. "I mean... beside the obvious," he amended, blushing at his stupidity. He didn't need to be a rocket scientist to know that she was missing her father; he only had to imagine how he'd feel if one of his parents had died recently. Even the mere thought hurt. "Please, won't you talk to me? I'm a pretty good listener, if I say so myself, and it seems to help Oliver... that, and beating the crap out of a punching bag every now and then," he added reflectively.

That last brought a watery giggle from the sad girl.

Could be better, but it's a start, the young man congratulated himself. "I'll volunteer to act as one if you need it," he offered next, wincing inwardly. Like all of them, Lynne had received a thorough grounding in the martial arts by both their fathers, and was more than a match for the older boys. What the heck, if it helps her...

"No thanks," Lynne sighed at last. "I already tried it with Oliver, and it doesn't work for me."

"Bummer."

"Yeah."

Lynne gave the tall young man a considering look. He was her brother's best friend, yes, but they had never been particularly close... still, he was offering a sympathetic ear, and she needed to unburden herself to someone. Her brothers would be as helpless as she in this situation. So...

"Jay, it's not me exactly. Well, yeah, it is, but... mostly it's Mom."

"Why, what's wrong?" Duh! How idiotic a question is that, stupid? Better keep your mouth shut if all you can do is voice the obvious! Jay berated himself silently. Of course Aunt Kat was missing Uncle Jason.

Lynne didn't seem to hear him, silly question or not. She just turned away from the window, giving him a tragic look. Her lips quivered as she recounted what was upsetting her so much.

"About two weeks ago, I was up late studying. It was after midnight when I got downstairs for something to drink, and I saw Mom in the living room, putting up the Christmas decorations by herself. She used to do that with Dad each year... Dad loved Christmas so much, he was always singing carols around the house for weeks," she rambled. "Even though he couldn't carry a tune, he didn't care. I remember—last year, I was so embarrassed by his off-key singing, I got all snippy with him, asking him to stop. He just laughed me off and I got so angry at him, I ran out and slammed my door... and this year, I m-miss his v-voice so much..." Lynne trailed off, tears rolling down her face as she swallowed hard, fighting bravely for control. "I'd give anything if I could hear him again."

She sounded so forlorn, Jay wanted to hug her. To tell the truth, he suddenly found himself wishing to be able to wipe those salty drops from the smooth cheeks... or better yet, kiss them away.

Whoa! Where does that come from? This is Lynne, your best bud's sister—your own sister's friend. The little pest you always wanted to get rid of when we were kids and she was tagging along.

All true, and yet he couldn't chase the thought away of how lovely she looked, with her wavy dark hair and eyes that matched her sweater's color perfectly.

Not to mention that cream-and-peaches skin, a mouth just made to be kissed, and a dynamite figure! Why haven't I ever noticed that before?

Jay felt his collar grow tight, the urge to pull Lynne into his arms growing stronger.

And why now, when getting ideas about her is pretty inappropriate, to say the least?

With an effort, he yanked his wayward thoughts back to what Lynne had said.

"It's only natural you would," he soothed, his own voice a trifle unsteady. "But Lynne... I'm sure Uncle Jase wasn't holding it against you. He just wasn't like that."

"I know. And in a way, that makes it even worse," she sniffled, fumbling for a tissue in the pocket of the slim black slacks she was wearing. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "But that wasn't really what upset me so—I was talking about Mom, remember?"

"Uh, right."

"Well... I dunno if you ever noticed, but during Christmas season, we had mistletoe hanging practically over every door. Mom and Dad used to kiss and smooch every chance they got—so much so that we kids were just gagging each time we caught them at it, y'know? Anyway, I didn't really think about it, but Mom wasn't going to put up mistletoe this year... but just as I was passing the door with my glass of soda, she found a twig from last year in the box with the decorations. Jay... she just stared at it for a second, then... she just sort of crumpled to the floor, crying harder than I've ever seen. She was literally shaking with her sobs. Usually she's pretty composed around us, although we know she's grieving for Dad. I mean, how can she not, after being married for twenty years? But she's never lost it like that before."

Lynne swallowed hard, blinking away her tears. In all of the turmoil following her father's death, Kat's quiet acceptance and outward calm had been her anchor, the rock she clung to in a world suddenly turned to chaos. To see her crying her eyes out like that had been... extremely upsetting.

"Can you blame her?" Jay asked, his own voice hoarse with empathy. "It must be pretty horrible for her. I mean, it's kind of natural that one's parents die before us—even if it was way too soon for your Dad—but to lose one's husband, the one person you love enough to want to share the rest of your life with...and so shortly after their anniversary, too..."

"I know, but... Jay, I wanted so much to help her, to say something, anything so that she would stop crying, but I just didn't know what. I felt so helpless, so inadequate..."

"I think all of us would have," he tried to console her. He shrugged, at a loss for words. Could he tell her he was experiencing much the same feelings right now, or would she think less of him? That Lynne didn't do so was suddenly very important. He wanted to be strong for her, to take away her grief... and couldn't. Oh what the hey. She knows I'm no superhero, Ranger powers or not, that I have no magic wand to make it all better. "Like... right now, I want to tell you something that will make you less sad, but I have not the slightest clue what I could say, either," he confessed.

She smiled tremulously. "That's sweet."

He actually blushed. Other girls had called him nice, handsome, sexy even, but sweet? It wasn't a term he associated with himself. Yet coming from Lynne, it meant more than the most glowing praise he'd ever received. "Yeah, well," he muttered, embarrassed at his own emotionalism.

Lynne reached up with a slender hand and touched his cheek in a brief caress that made his heartbeat falter momentarily. "No, really. It's good to know I'm not alone in feeling like that," she murmured, calmer now. "And thanks for listening; it did help to get it off my chest."

Instinctively, he glanced down at that portion of her anatomy, noting that she was nicely rounded in all the right places. His blush deepened, and he was very glad for the room's relative darkness.

"Anytime."

She only nodded. There was something in Lynne's expression, her whole stance that puzzled him. She was still standing very close, almost but not quite touching him... as if she was waiting for something. And Jay had no idea what it might be. At last, he decided it couldn't hurt to ask.

"Is there something else..." he was about to say 'kiddo', but all of a sudden the term didn't seem right anymore. Lynne was no child; she was a very pretty young woman. One he was thoroughly attracted to. It was that realization which provided the word tripping off Jay's tongue before he could check himself. "... sweetheart?"

Lynne wouldn't look at him. Instead, she started to circle one of his shirt buttons with a fingertip, the movement hypnotic in its simplicity. In a very small voice, she asked, "Would... would you hold me for a short while, please? I think I could really use a hug right now..."

There was nothing he wanted to do more.

"Of course, little one," he murmured, enfolding her in his arms. She nestled against his chest trustingly, her slender arms wrapping around his waist as she rested her head on his shoulder with a tiny sigh.

"This feels nice," Lynne whispered, her breath soft against his throat.

'Nice' doesn't even begin to describe it, the young man thought, aware only of how perfectly this girl whom he'd known nearly all his life fit against him. And of how sweet her hair smelled—those gorgeous black tresses that felt so silky on his skin. Out loud, all he uttered was a content murmur. "Mmm."

At last, the hug ended. Lynne inhaled a deep, shuddering breath and was about to disengage herself, when she looked up into his warm, nut-brown eyes. What she read there for the first time was enough to make her breath catch.

"Jay...?" she whispered unsteadily, not daring to think, to hope...

"Lynne," he whispered back, low and soft. He felt himself drowning in her deep blue gaze... and he didn't want to fight the current drawing him under. In slow motion, he lowered his mouth to hers.

She didn't draw back. A small gasp escaped her at the first brush of lips against lips, but it was very definitely not a protest. It was a first kiss... and as sweet as it could, should be. When it ended seconds later, Lynne looked slightly bewildered, but not at all angry. And she neither hit him nor moved away.

Whew!

"Wh-what was that all about?" she asked uncertainly. It was something she'd begun to dream about earlier this year, but had nearly forgotten in her grief.

Jay grinned sheepishly. "It felt right. Didn't it?" he queried, hoping with all his might she'd agree.

"I... yes, but... why? Why now?"

He shrugged. "I never hugged you before."

The blue eyes looked hurt. "And you kiss all the girls you hug?"

"No. Just the ones I care very much about." That wasn't the whole truth. And Jay didn't want to hide it from his best friend's sister. She deserved more, better from him. "Just you," he admitted.

"Oh."

Was it his imagination, or did the petal-soft cheeks flood a delicate pink? It made him a little bolder.

"Did you like it?"

Lynne lowered her head. She wouldn't answer, but she did nod—a gesture so tiny he would have missed it if he hadn't been looking for it.

"Do you want me to do it again?" he dared ask.

That brought her head up again. Looking him full in the eyes, Lynne moistened her suddenly dry lips, then nodded again—very decisively this time.

"Yes. Please."

With a relieved sigh, Jay drew her into his arms again. The two young people melted together in a kiss that was both an end and a promise—it ended their previous relationship and spoke of the future—of love.

~*~

Kat withdrew silently from the doorway, not wanting to intrude on the tender moment. Her eyes were misty again, but not with grief this time. She had lost her own love, yes—but it looked as if her daughter, Jason's dream child, had found hers. Lynne couldn't have made a better choice than Tommy and Kim's son, and in her heart she knew that Jason would approve, too. She smiled, her expression bittersweet as she sent up a quick, silent prayer—the first she was capable of since that terrible day in summer when her world had shattered.

"Please God, let them be happy. And Jason? Watch over them... wherever you are."

~*~

"I think what I regret most these days is that Jason never got to know his grandchildren," Kat smiled wistfully. "He'd have loved them."

"Yeah," Lynne agreed, sighing softly. "There are so many things I've wished I could have shared with Dad; even today I find myself thinking 'Dad'll love this; I've got to tell him this, show him that...' and then I realize that I'll never be able to, and it hurts just as much as it did in the beginning."

"It's a natural reaction," Tommy soothed both women. "I think everyone who's ever lost someone they loved has it. I know I do—with Kim, with Jase, with my father... even with Trini, and she's been gone longest of all, and we were never all that close."

The atmosphere was getting rather gloomy, and Kat drew a deep breath. It was Christmas, a time for joy (especially in light of the good news they had shared with their family earlier), and it wouldn't do to let it deteriorate even further.

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it; we just have to learn to live with it as best we can," she said, deliberately adopting a matter-of-fact tone. "All we can do is be thankful that we didn't lose too many loved ones until now, aside from natural causes."

"Too true," Tommy agreed readily. "And that our lives were without any major upheavals for the most part. We were all so lucky in that regard... no divorces, no major fights..."

Kat suddenly grinned. "Except when your infamous memory and absentmindedness caused Kim to tear out her hair by the roots—isn't that right, handsome?"

Tommy put on a look of outraged innocence that fooled no-one.

"That is so not true," he protested.

"Oh yeah?" she tossed back at him, sounding very much like one of the grandchildren. Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Name one instance," he challenged his fiancée.

Katherine pretended to ponder for a moment, then assumed a long-suffering expression. "I will—as soon as I can decide with which to start."

Tommy's automatic denial was drowned in their disrespectful offspring's laughter and entreaties to 'tell, tell'.

Kat cleared her throat, shot Tommy a glance from under her lashes and began: "Now listen well, children: Once upon a time, there was a Green Ranger..."

Chapter 24: Stupid Hunk Of Junk

The festive mood was once again restored as the families shared a laugh—at Tommy's expense—as Kat concluded her tales of Tommy's not-so-sterling moments. He grumbled good-naturedly, but was not adverse to letting his past foibles lighten the somber mood recalling Jason's death had brought on.

"It's a good thing Aunt Kim loved you so much, Uncle Tommy," Ramon laughed. "It seems like you were always in the dog house—even more so than my dad!"

"You'd think so, but it wasn't really that bad," Tommy assured him. "I'd just flash Kim my best puppy-dog eyes and all would be forgiven."

Kat's indelicate, derisive snort belied that claim.

"So, Dad, did you ever get really pissed off at Mom?" Jay wondered, his mind drifting back to the tale of Aunt Kat and Uncle Jason's first big fight. Near as he could recall, he couldn't ever remember seeing his dad lose it with his mother. "Seeing as how Mom was always blowing up at you...."

"But her anger never lasted," Tommy reminded his son. "Kim never kept things bottled up. She made her feelings known, then cleared the air—except when she was pregnant," he hastened to qualify.

"Oh, that's right. You weren't here when Dad totally blew his stack at Mom," Trini piped up.

"When was this?" her brother asked, startled and puzzled. His father was always so controlled. Sure, he'd raise his voice on occasion, slipping into sensei mode, but he'd never seen him totally lose it.

"Remember Dad's white Mustang?" his sister asked.

"The one Uncle John gave him to rebuild—sure I do," Jay replied. "Man, he loved that car. It was wrecked when I was off at college. No one ever said how... you mean Mom totaled it?"

"I remember how much you loved that car, Uncle Tommy," Oliver spoke up. "No wonder you got pissed off at Aunt Kim."

"It wasn't one of my finer moments, that's for sure," Tommy interjected, a touch uncomfortable with the memory, even after all this time. Kim had forgiven him readily enough, but it had taken a long time to forgive himself.

~*~

"Tommy?" Kim called as she came up from the basement. There was no answer, and she sighed with exasperation. Really, Tommy could be as bad as the children when it came to taking off without letting her know where he was going or when he was going to be back. She glanced over at the counter; the cell phone was still on the charger. He hadn't bothered to take it with him.

"Figures," she muttered. "Ooh, that man!"

However, there was another possibility—one equally as frustrating. Even as she headed towards the door to the garage, there came a crash and a stream of very colorful, totally unrepeatable language uttered in her spouse's voice.

"I should have known," she sighed, rolling her eyes as she crossed the kitchen to the connecting door. She pulled the door open and discovered her husband—as usual—underneath the body of the white 1969 Mustang his uncle had bequeathed to him. It was Tommy's pride and joy, and restoring it was his passion.

Ever since he took possession of the vehicle, Tommy had spent every spare moment working on it. Getting up early, staying up late, foregoing family outings... and spending every spare dime on parts. At first, she hadn't minded. Tommy had been like a kid with a new toy. She figured he'd get over the excitement after a while, as all children do; however, he hadn't, and things were getting out of hand.

"Thomas James Oliver!" she snapped, and she smiled with satisfaction as her startled husband smacked his head on something.

"Ow!" Tommy grumbled as he rolled out from underneath the Mustang.

"Did I, or did I not, ask you to check out the exhaust pipe to the dryer to see if anything was stuck in it?" Kim demanded in a tone that was reminiscent of his mother's—with the same effect of making him feel about twelve years old. She knew he positively hated that, but she also knew he wouldn't say a word because she could tell by his wince and the guilty expression on his face that he knew she was in the right.

"Don't worry, Beautiful; I'll get to it right after...." he began.

"No, don't give me any more excuses about being in the middle of a complicated system or what have you," she cut him off. "If you get back under that car, I won't see you again until you crawl into bed tonight."

"Aw, Kim, give me a break; it's my day off," he countered petulantly.

"I realize that," she said, "and I asked you to do one thing for me. Just one! I wouldn't even have bothered doing that if I hadn't already tried and failed taking care of it myself."

"I'll do it today; I promise," he assured her.

"Preferably before the rest of us are asleep in bed," she snorted, knowing that the car would be taken care of first.

"That's not fair," he glowered but knew he was on shaky ground here.

"Isn't it? Tommy, you spend more time with that... that... thing than you do with the family lately!"

"I do not!"

"Okay, tell me what was the last thing we did together," she demanded, arms folded across her chest, glaring at him imperiously.

Tommy scowled at her and thought for a moment... and thought some more... and more....

"We did something with Jay not too long ago," he said at last with a touch of smug triumph.

"We took him back to college and that was almost three months ago!" she countered.

"Oh."

"Look, I've tried to be patient. I've tried to be understanding, but this is getting ridiculous!" she shouted. Blowing out a frustrated breath, she continued more calmly, "I'm beginning to wish John had given this contraption to some other nephew."

"He knew no one else would appreciate it the way I do," Tommy said. He flashed her his best smile and most heart-melting puppy-dog eyes. "I promise I'll fix the dryer, hon."

"You'd better," Kim warned as she turned to walk away, "because I'm not washing any of your clothes until it's fixed."

~*~

"Kim, I have to run to the store; I'll be right back!" Tommy hollered as he hurried in and grabbed his truck keys.

"Don't forget to get your mother's prescription filled," she called after him from the office right off the living room. "She's on the last of her heart medication today."

"I will," he said, dashing out the door.

Kim closed her eyes and counted to ten. She'd thought Tommy had learned his lesson about neglecting chores after the dryer incident. True to her word, she hadn't washed any of his things as long as the dryer was unrepaired. He finally cleared the pipe when he discovered that he had no more clean underwear.

"Please, Lord, let him be done with that stupid car soon; otherwise, I may have to throttle him," she prayed as she returned to the study to finish grading her students' papers.

The phone rang, and Kim blearily looked up from the paper she'd been correcting. She glanced at the clock in surprise; she hadn't realized it was so late.

The ringer sounded again, and Kim reached for the cordless extension. "Hello... oh, hi, Jan... Your prescription? Tommy took that to get filled hours ago... what? You mean he hasn't?... all right, don't worry, Jan; I'll get it taken care of."

Kim hung up the phone, temper barely contained. She stormed into the kitchen, and, sure enough, there was the script from the doctor under the magnet on the refrigerator.

"I'll kill him," she grumbled as she snatched up the paper. How could he forget about his mother's medication? It wasn't like Jan could go out and get it for herself—at least for now. Jan was pretty independent for a woman in her eighties, but the doctor told her no driving until her broken shoulder was healed.

Kim grabbed her purse, but when she reached for her keys, they weren't on the hook. Belatedly, she recalled that Trini had asked to borrow her car, and for the life of her, she couldn't remember where her daughter had said she was going.

Glancing at the clock, she didn't have a lot of time to try and track Trini down. Pharmacies didn't stay open late on Sundays. Where was Tommy? He should have been back by now; part stores didn't stay open late on Sundays either. She thought of calling him, but a glance at the charger showed the phone at home and not with her husband.

Next, she tried getting ahold of Kat, but no one was home at the Scott residence.

Now what? she fumed, wishing Jay hadn't taken his car on campus this year. There was no time to wait for anyone to get home; Jan had taken her last dose this morning and was already overdue for her next one.

Too bad Kat doesn't still have Jason's old motorcycle; I used to know how to get it to start without the key, Kim mused. She was considering calling a cab when she spied the Mustang out on the driveway. Tommy must have just taken it down off the blocks today.

It was the answer to her problem, if.... if it ran... if Tommy had left the keys at home....

However, Tommy had strictly forbidden anyone else to drive the Mustang. He'd issued the warning when he'd first put the car up on the blocks—like anyone was going to drive it when it obviously didn't run. He hadn't said why specifically, although Kim imagined it had to do with the plates or the insurance or something. Well, maybe not the insurance; they'd just received the statement for the month, and the Mustang was listed as one of the vehicles covered.

It's probably because that's his baby and he doesn't want to share, she groused childishly.

She was about to totally dismiss the Mustang as an option when she glanced over at the shelf by the door. The keys were there.

It may not even run, she reminded herself but then realized that for the car to have gotten out on the driveway, Tommy would have had to start it and back it out.

She stood there, indecisive, for a moment longer, then quickly snapped up the keys. She'd apologize to Tommy later; his mother needed her medication now.

Tommy sat in his truck staring dumbfoundedly at the empty space on the driveway where he'd left the Mustang parked. He'd only just taken it down off the blocks when he realized he needed a part for the side mirror. He hadn't even test-driven it yet!

He was going to kill someone when she got home!

The longer the clock ticked on with neither wife nor daughter putting in an appearance, the angrier Tommy became.

After his initial shock, it did occur to him that the classic car had been stolen, but upon checking the house, he confirmed that the keys were indeed missing.

Who was the likely culprit: Kim or Trini? Both had been told in no uncertain terms that the Mustang was off limits. It astounded him that one of them would disobey him like that!

In his mind, there was nothing that would be a good enough excuse for defying him. Besides the fact that he'd forbidden it, quite simply, he wasn't sure the car was ready to be driven yet. He wasn't certain the brakes were calibrated properly. The steering had felt too loose when he'd backed the car out, and the whole car vibrated like it was going to shake apart whenever he started it.

Just then, he heard a car in the drive. He stormed into the living room and peered out the window to see who it was and what she was driving. It was Kim's plum-colored little Honda, but it was Trini climbing out of the driver's side of the vehicle.

Tommy managed to hold his temper until his daughter entered the house.

"Hi, Dad," she hailed him breezily.

"Where have you been, and what are you doing with your mother's car?" he snapped.

Trini's eyes widened in surprise at the obvious ire in his tone. It was one she could never recall hearing her father use.

"I was at the library," she answered. "I have a research paper due; Mom said I could borrow her car. Why? Is something wrong?"

"I am going to throttle your mother when she gets home," he growled, spinning away to resume his pacing in the kitchen.

At long last, the door opened, and Kimberly came in. By now, Tommy was in no mood to be trifled with. He didn't even notice Kim's disheveled appearance.

"What the hell did you think you were doing, taking off in the Mustang like that?" he demanded through gritted teeth as he made the effort to control his anger.

"Excuse me?" Kim asked, startled by the tempestuous reception. The moment she'd seen Tommy's truck in the driveway, she knew he was not going to be happy that she'd taken his car. And he was going to be even more unhappy when he found out what happened to it, but she hadn't expected this. And, to be honest, she was in no mood to deal with him in this state.

Before she could gather her wits to respond to him fully, he grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Didn't. I. Tell. You. Not. To. Drive. The. Mustang?" he shouted at her, punctuating each word with a shake.

"Tommy, stop it; you're hurting me," she winced. It wasn't so much his rough treatment, although she'd never seen him do anything like this, as it was his grip on top of her bruises and assorted aches and pains.

He was beyond hearing her as his fury poured out.

"Dammit, Kim, I told you not to drive that thing," he continued furiously. "I had my reasons...."

"If you did, then you didn't see fit to tell them to the rest of us," Kim shot back. She was not going to stand by and simply take his abuse!

"The brakes... the steering..." he sputtered, trying to get his point across.

"If it wasn't driveable, then you should have said something," she countered. "And anyway, if you would have remembered to take your mother's prescription to the pharmacy, I wouldn't have been desperate enough to drive that hunk of junk!"

"Hunk of junk!" he roared. Then, his eyes, dark with anger, narrowed, and he glowered at her. "Is that why you took it out? To get back at me for all the time I spent fixing up that 'hunk of junk'?"

"That has to be the dumbest, most conceited thing you've ever said!" Kim snorted. "Do you really think I'm that petty and spiteful? I took it because I had no other choice."

Tommy opened his mouth to continue his tirade, when he was interrupted by Trini as she came galloping down the stairs.

"Dad... the Mustang...there's a tow truck backing into our driveway, and... Mom! You're hurt! What happened?"

His daughter's words acted like a bucket of cold water poured over Tommy's head. His face went white as he released his wife. He hadn't noticed the cuts and scrapes... the smudges, bandages and... dried blood. He quickly guided her to a chair, fear having totally replaced his anger. "Oh God, Kim; what happened?"

"I was on my way home from your mother's," she began exhaustedly. She could feel the beginnings of shock sweeping through her. "A guy in one of those huge pick-ups ran a red light. There was no avoiding him, but I swerved and braked to minimize the damage. The brakes worked fine... so did the steering; I couldn't have done any better had I been in my car, but Tommy...." Finally, Kim lost her composure, and the tears she'd refused to shed began to fall. "... I wrecked the Mustang...."

"Shh, Kim, don't worry," Tommy gulped, wrapping his arms about her and holding her close. "It's just a stupid hunk of junk. As long as you're all right...."

~*~

"That was pretty harsh, Dad," Jay murmured at the conclusion of the tale.

"I'm not proud of the way I behaved that day," Tommy admitted, squirming guiltily.

"But you were just worried about the safety of whoever was behind the wheel," Jasmine interjected.

"That's what I tried to tell myself at the time," Tommy sighed. "I tried to justify my anger with concern... the thought that Kim or one of the kids could be hurt in the car because of my carelessness or lack of skill was unbearable."

"After losing your best friend in a car wreck, you feared losing anyone else you loved the same way," Kat added gently.

"I wish I could say that I was that noble. I wasn't. Plain and simple, I was upset with Kim because she'd defied me, and I thought she'd done it to spite me," he confessed, hanging his head. "I mean, I didn't even notice that my wife had been hurt...."

He simply shook his head in disgust.

"Did you ever fix up the Mustang after that?" Ramon wondered.

"No, I never did. Kim had been right all along; I'd been spending too much time on the car, neglecting the important things in my life," he sighed.

"Is that why you have a picture of the smashed-up Mustang in here?" Trini asked, flipping to the shot of the 'stupid hunk of junk' in question. "A reminder of sorts?"

"Uh huh. Whenever I feel myself getting angry, all I do is think of that night."

"How about we move on," Kat suggested, taking over the album they were perusing. They had dwelled on the not-so-happy times long enough. However, the photos she turned to, while of a happy occasion, were a prelude to another heart-wrenching memory.

Chapter 25: Good-bye, My Heart

"Look, here's one from our wedding," Rachel pointed out, noticing the family shot the photographer had worked so hard to get. It included her parents, Jared's family, the Olivers and the DeSantoses.

Tommy saw the picture and felt his throat constrict and his eyes sting with unshed tears. The photos of Kim at Jared and Rachel's wedding were the last ones taken of his beloved wife.

Kat sensed, more than saw, his inner turmoil and reached over to give his hand a supportive squeeze. Having just relived her first Christmas without Jason, she knew that these memories would be difficult for Tommy to share.

"Mom died not too long after this," Jay murmured softly, feeling his chest grow tight. As he'd comforted his wife moments ago, so she offered the same to him now.

"We'd just returned from our honeymoon...." Jared added, his heart still heavy with memories of loss. "I'm just so glad Rachel insisted we come home early. If I hadn't gotten to say good-bye to Aunt Kim, too...."

Not having been able to say good-bye to their own father had left the Scott children with a sense of incompleteness that all the years had yet to erase, and of the three children, Jared was probably the closest to Kim, as she virtually had been his second mother.

"I know she must have been at the time, but Aunt Kim doesn't look sick in any of these," Jasmine noted, not exactly sure how to proceed.

"She had been, with what she thought was a little cold," Kat explained. "Just a case of the sniffles, a little chest congestion, aches... just the usual. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"After the wedding, it seemed like it had turned into bronchitis over night," Tommy added. "At the time, she joked that she had held the worst back by sheer force of will so she wouldn't miss the wedding. We just didn't know that it was so much worse...."

"Why didn't Mom go to the doctor right away like we begged her?" Trini asked, tears hanging on her lashes and anger in her tone. "Maybe if she'd gone sooner, they could have nipped the viral infection in the bud."

"No, honey, as much as I'd like to believe that, Dr. Lin told me that they wouldn't have been able to do anything. The virus was just too new and different at that time," Tommy said, feeling the same sense of helplessness he had three years ago.

"Besides, you know how Mom always hated doctors. She had to be really sick before she'd go," Jay reminded his sister. "I never understood that, though."

"Your mother just couldn't shake the feeling that every time she visited doctors, they took something away from her that she valued." Tommy's voice was hoarse, emotion clogging it.

"How do you mean?" Oliver wondered.

"It was a doctor who told her she had to give up gymnastics," Kat began patiently, feeling some sympathy for Kim's reaction, "and it was a doctor who told her she could never bear another child."

"At least the doctors weren't the ones who told her she was going to die," was Tommy's quiet comment. "She'd figured that one out all on her own."

~*~

"Hello, Kim," Kat said brightly as she entered the hospital room. Her dear friend was almost lost amid the tubes and machinery surrounding her bed, and Kat did her best not to let it show how pained she was to see Kimberly thus.

The 'cold' she'd had at Jared's wedding had taken a nasty turn. By the time they'd convinced her to see the doctor, they'd all known it was extremely serious. She'd been hospitalized promptly and had been there now for three days. The physicians couldn't seem to lock down a treatment, and Kim wasn't the only one being treated for the unusual virus.

"Hey, Kat," Kim greeted her, turning away from the window to give her a smile. She looked so tired... too thin... pale... her eyes sunken in and ringed with dark smudges... her cheeks hollow.... The viral infection was taking its toll on the lively former gymnast and active mother.

"How are you feeling this morning?" Kat asked, finding the question inane but needing something to get the conversation going.

"I feel like shit," Kim groused, giving voice to the words no one else would speak around her. "I hate hospitals. I hate being sick." She waved towards the window where sunshine poured in. "It's beautiful out there. It's Saturday. I should be home puttering in my garden, not stuck here."

A coughing fit overcame Kimberly—great hacking coughs that made the throat ache just to hear them, accompanied by shudders that racked the body.

Kat was silent and waited for the spasm to pass, aching with the need to alleviate her friend's suffering but helpless to offer any relief.

"T-the chills are the worst," Kim continued through chattering teeth. "My muscles clench so tight that I hurt, and I can't get warm."

"Here," Kat offered and helped tuck the blanket more closely around Kim's shoulders. She was grateful to be able to do something useful.

"Where's Tommy?" she wondered as she took a seat next to the bed, her gaze roving over the flowers and cards filling the bedside table. Tommy had been all but glued to this wife's side from the moment her 'cold' landed her in the hospital.

"Emergency at the dojo—pipes burst. Some things the boss just has to take care of himself," Kim sighed with a wry smile.

"Surely Rocky could have come and pitched in...."

"I chased him off," Kim cut her off, to the blonde's surprise. "I needed him to go for a bit. It's... hard being strong for both of us."

At her words, a visible change came over Kimberly. She looked even weaker and more frail than before. Vulnerable. Scared. Kat hadn't realized she was so bad—but then, Kim hadn't wanted them to.

"The fearless leader of the Power Rangers is going to pieces," Kim went on in a rough whisper. "This is so hard on him because there's nothing he can do. There's no monster's butt to kick or thingamabob to retrieve with a magical cure. He's helpless. All he can do is wait."

"And we all know how he hates waiting," Kat joked. It was a tiny thing, but Kim flashed her a brief smile, which cheered Kat immensely. However, the humor didn't last.

"Kat, I'm fighting this with all I have, but I don't think I'm going to win this battle," Kim confessed, tears in her eyes.

"Kim, don't talk like that!" her best friend exclaimed automatically, trying to think of words of comfort.

"I can feel it, Kat... like that time Lord Zedd was draining my powers," Kim went on, needing to share this realization with someone to somehow lessen her burden, and she knew she couldn't ask Tommy and the kids to be the ones to help her carry it. "Every day, little by little, I feel my strength slipping away. I'm like the little Dutch boy with his finger in the dyke, only instead of keeping the ocean out, I'm trying to keep it in. I fight and I fight, trying to hang on, but I don't know if it's going to be enough... I just don't think I'll win this one.

"Promise me, Kat, that if anything happens to me, you'll look after Tommy for me," Kim said with sudden fierceness. A trembling hand shot out to touch Kat's. "He's going to need help, and you're the only one I trust to do the job right. The kids don't know him like you and I do."

"You know I would," Kat promised earnestly, clasping that frail hand. "But I hope I don't have to."

"Neither do I. I gave him up once, and when I got him back, I swore never again!"

The two women shared knowing smiles, and their hand clasp lingered. Kim's brave façade faltered, and she chewed at her lower lip anxiously. Kat smiled bravely for her, and she was able to marshal her strength again.

"So, have you heard from Jared and Rachel yet?" Kim wondered, deliberately changing the subject, needing to lighten the mood.

"Kim, they're on their honeymoon, not a vacation," Kat laughed.

"I know, but all the other kids sent us postcards that said, 'Glad you're not here!' I just figured they'd continue the tradition."

"Actually, they arrived home last night," Kat revealed.

Kim blinked in surprise. "They were supposed to be gone for another week."

"I know. All Jared would say was that Rachel woke him up in the middle of the night and told him they had to get home right away."

A low chuckle escaped Kim. "Billy did the same thing while on his honeymoon with Connie, remember? Something to do with an experiment he was working on."

Kat recalled the incident fondly; it was so typically Billy, and Rocky never let him forget he short-changed his little sister on her honeymoon. Aloud, she said, "I sure do. Maybe Rachel spotted a new astronomical phenomenon while they were lying on the beach."

Privately, she had the feeling that Lynne had called Rachel to tell her about Kim's failing health, and Rachel didn't want to worry Jared unduly.

~*~

Tommy hit the entrance of Angel Grove Community Hospital at a clip just shy of a run. He hadn't wanted to leave Kim alone, but the busted pipes had flooded the dojo. Kim insisted he go take care of it, promising to nap until he returned. He'd tried calling Kat to come sit with her, but she hadn't been home. He just couldn't shake the feeling that as long as Kimberly wasn't alone, she wouldn't... leave him.

He couldn't say die. He couldn't even contemplate it. He didn't want to even think such a thing could happen. He couldn't lose her after all this time; she'd been a part of his life—the other half of his soul—since he was sixteen. Now, after thirty-seven years of marriage... it was unthinkable. He just knew he wouldn't be able to go on without her.

Tommy forced his fears aside. He had to think positively. Kim would get better. And the two of them would live long enough to see their great-grandchildren....

As he exited the elevator on Kim's floor, he spied her doctor at the nurses' station.

"Dr. Lin," he called out in greeting.

"Oh, good day, Mr. Oliver," the elderly Oriental physician replied. She was reputed to be the best in the field of respiratory ailments.

"How's Kimberly?" he asked anxiously.

The doctor's face was grave. "She is not responding to this latest treatment," she began, "and she is not alone in this regard. I am consulting with a colleague of mine on the East Coast on another possible treatment.

"She is weak but otherwise stable for the moment."

"I wish there was something more you could do," Tommy sighed helplessly.

"As do I. This virus is a mutated form of something else; once we isolate the base, then it might be possible to better formulate a treatment."

"I wish we'd brought her in sooner."

"Had you brought her in at the first sign of sniffles, it would not have done any good, I'm afraid," the physician said sadly. "For now, take comfort from the fact that she has not slipped into a coma; as long as she remains conscious and stable, she has a chance of recovery. She lives to fight another day. Now, if you will excuse me...."

"Thanks, Dr. Lin," Tommy murmured, and he continued on to Kimberly's room. He supposed no news was good news at this point.

He pushed open the door to his wife's private room. At least they'd been able to determine that she wasn't contagious. As bad as it was seeing Kimberly hooked up to the IVs and respirator, he doubted he could have borne seeing her in an isolation unit.

To his great relief, Tommy saw Kat sitting with Kim, and the sound of his wife's laughter—weak though it was—did his heart a world of good.

"Hey, Beautiful, I'm back," he announced, striding across the room quickly and giving Kimberly a kiss before acknowledging Kat's presence.

"You're back awful soon," Kim noted.

Kat abandoned her bedside seat for him, and he settled down before answering. "Jay and Lynne shooed me off... said I was more of a nuisance than a help."

Kim smiled at his pout and remarked, "They're all too familiar with your plumbing skills."

~*~

Kat watched the by-play between her friends and felt a tug at her heartstrings. Both knew how serious the situation was, and both were trying to be brave for the other. It was almost more than she could bear.

"I'll be back in a little while," she said, but it was doubtful if either one had heard her. She left the room, glancing back and offering a silent prayer that they would not have to know the loss she had.

Needing a moment to herself, she headed downstairs to the lobby then out to the hospital's east lawn with its marvelous gardens. It was a shame Kimberly's room didn't overlook them; she would have loved the flowers. It was a quiet, restful haven, soothing to the troubled spirit.

Kat found an unoccupied bench and took a seat. She felt the sting of tears as she looked up into the clear blue sky.

It had been sixteen years since Jason died....

Jason, my love, I know I often wished that I could have been there with you when you left me, but now I'm grateful you went quickly. I don't think I could have sat beside you waiting for you to die.

~*~

Tommy sat on the edge of Kim's bed, gently stroking her grey-tinged locks as she took a much-deserved rest. There had been quite a parade of visitors... first, Jared and Rachel came by. Then, Oliver and Jasmine—they were due to head home soon; they had planned to stay on a bit after the wedding. Trini and Ramon.... Jay and Lynne finally made it once the flood waters had receded. Rocky had dropped by briefly, as had Billy... She had so many visitors, it was as if they were drawn there for a reason—one he didn't want to even contemplate. Although they'd come at comfortable intervals, Kim was all worn out.

He was glad it was just the two of them now as he looked down with love-mixed-with-concern at the woman who had stolen his heart the first time he laid eyes on her. He was scared. She looked so fragile....

"Don't leave me, Kim," he implored, a tear slipping past his control. He hadn't meant to say the words, but they wouldn't be held back. "I lost you once, and it nearly killed me. I don't think I could bear losing you again."

"You'll never lose me, Tommy," Kim murmured drowsily as she woke from her doze. "You've had my heart from that very first day.... You'll always have it, no matter what."

"I know, but I like having the rest of you to hold on to, too," he responded, trying—needing—to keep it light.

"I like it when you hold me," she sighed with a wistful smile. "I always feel so safe and warm and loved...."

That was Tommy's cue to carefully wrap his arms around her and pull her close—doctor's orders be damned!

"You know, I'm not afraid to die—not really," she murmured thoughtfully, her gaze distant. "I haven't been since we were Rangers. At first, it scared me that I might die when we fought Rita's monsters, and after cheating death so many times, I began to feel invincible. But then Trini died, and Jason....

"Now, I know that when I die, I'll go to a place where all good Power Rangers go, and I won't be alone. Two of my dearest friends will be waiting for me. And I'll wait there for you."

She smiled up at him with such love in her eyes that Tommy felt a lump in his throat.

"Kim, don't...!" he choked out, just barely keeping his exclamation from being a sob.

"You've watched me face death before—lots of times," she reminded him gently.

"Yeah, and I hated it each and every time. I hated it then; I hate it now," he said sullenly.

She laughed softly. "Just like then, nobody's gonna take me from you without a fight."

"That's my girl," Tommy murmured with a smile of encouragement. He kissed the top of her head.

"... so tired...." she yawned.

"Rest, Beautiful. You'll feel stronger when you wake up," he advised, trying not to think of how frequently she needed those naps. He shifted to lay her back on the pillows.

"No," she said sleepily. "Hold me, Tommy. I want you to hold me while I rest."

"Anything you want." He tucked her more comfortably into his side, hugging her too-thin body. He could feel the onset of those body-racking chills. He held her tighter.

"Don't I get a g'night kiss?" she slurred with child-like petulance.

"How could I forget."

"Tha's my Tommy."

He tilted her chin up and placed a tender kiss on her lips. "Good night, Beautiful. I love you."

"... love you, too, Tommy. Always...." With that quiet declaration of her feelings, Kim drifted off into a contented sleep.

Tommy continued softly stroking her hair and watching as her expression eased. She was at peace as she snuggled up against him.

She never woke up.

~*~

Wednesday found the Oliver family and their friends at Angel's Rest Cemetery saying their final good-byes to their friend, their mother, their wife.

Long after the prayers had been said, the mourners had taken their leave, and the casket lowered into the ground, Tommy stood at the gravesite, unable to tear himself away from Kimberly's side.

How long he stood there, numb and empty, he couldn't say. He wasn't aware of anything until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Tommy, it's time to go," Kat said gently, her heart aching for her friend's pain.

"I can't, Kat. I can't leave her."

"I know, Tommy, but you have to." She remembered how useless words had seemed when she had stood as Tommy did now, saying a final good-bye to her heart.

"It hurts, Kat. More than I ever dreamed possible."

"It will get better in time, I promise."

"I miss her."

"I miss Jason, too, but I know he's still with me, looking out for me. Just as Kim will still be with you, looking out for you," she assured him. "At least, you got to say good-bye."

He turned to face her—hurt, lost, alone, helpless. She reached out to him, pulling him into a comforting hug.

Tommy let his tears fall at last.

~*~

For a moment, Tommy couldn't continue. Three years had managed to dull the sharp edge of the pain—three years and the love and support of all those around him.

No one else seemed to be able to speak, either.

Then, Tommy's throat loosened a little, and he said, "I never told anyone this before, but I had the strangest dream the night before the funeral."

"About Mom?" Trini ventured, wiping her eyes. Talking about her mother's death... recalling her father's struggles with his grief, always made her wonder what she would do if she ever lost Ramon. Quickly, she shoved the thought away. She couldn't bear thinking of it.

"No, actually, it was about Jason," he confessed.

"Jason?" Kat gasped in amazement.

"In it, we were shooting baskets in the park and having a talk—just like when we were in high school," he explained unselfconsciously. It felt good to be able to share this after so many years of keeping it to himself. The time never seemed right—until now.

"He started out by saying that Kim would have come to visit me, but I was still holding her back. I had to let her go so she could be free to live again.

"Then, he said that it wasn't time for me to join them yet." Here, he paused, gathering his courage to admit just how bad things had been for him. He stared down at his hands, which he was wringing together. "At the time, I really wanted to crawl in the grave with Kim."

"I felt that way, too, when Jason died," Kat murmured, letting him know he was not alone in such intense despair. He glanced up at her with a smile of appreciation, then chuckled softly.

"Jason then said, 'Snap out of it, Ranger; you have a job to do'."

"And I bet old instincts kicked in," Kat teased gently. "Did you snap to attention?"

Tommy stuck his tongue out at her and confessed, "Jase always knew how to get through my thick skull. He went on to tell me that the kids still needed a father figure, and by default, that job was mine.

"'Your time will come,' he said, 'and Kim will be here waiting for you—probably grumbling about how long it took you'."

That comment had the whole family snickering, and Tommy looked appropriately wounded.

"Then he promised to look after Kim for me the way I'd looked after Kat for him." He paused thoughtfully, taking Kat's hand once again, glancing at the ring he'd placed on her finger. When he looked up, his eyes glimmered with welling tears.

"I think... no, I know that the only reason I was able to get through the funeral—was able to let Kimberly go—was knowing that Jason was there for her since I couldn't be."

Prologue
Section 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7