WHEN ALL IS SAID AND DONE

Brooke watched him surreptitiously from under her thick brownbangs. Geoffrey sat quietly beside Catherine and Vincent, who werecompletely immersed in conversation as they sampled their heartybreakfasts. His own breakfast remained largely untouched; a bite ofsweet roll, a few sips of tea, and a partially eaten apple were allhe had ingested over the past half hour. Saddened by what she saw,she took one last long look at him before rising to place her emptyplate and used utensils in the appropriate collection trays. Staringat the piles before her, she said a silent prayer of thanks that shedidn't have kitchen clean-up detail this week. She sighed. Lifesometimes could only be measured by these small favors.

Looking up as Brooke walked out of the dining chamber, Geoffreyshook his head, thinking that she had endured a rough year. He hadrecognized her impossible crush on the much older Michael since he'dbeen old enough to understand such things -- how could he notrecognize those symptoms when he himself had felt the same way aboutSamantha? When Michael had gone Above to college, then stayed on forgraduate school, Brooke had still, he knew, held fast to the hopethat he would return one day...for her. But at last year'sWinterfest, her hopes had been cruelly crushed when Michael hadintroduced his fiancee to his Tunnel family.

He now understood Brooke's pain, so like his own since Samanthahad chosen to return to Kipper. More sensitive to what she had beengoing through since the incident with Samantha, several times overthe past few months he had tried to offer her the comfort of asympathetic friend -- or as much comfort as an 18 year old boy couldoffer to a woman in her mid-20s. But she had gently, firmly refusedto discuss it. For many months she had withdrawn from all but themost elemental aspects of life in the Tunnels; she fulfilled herduties on the work crews, but ate all her meals in her chamber anddeclined all invitations from her concerned family. Lately, however,she had seemed to be emerging from her shell. Today was the firsttime he had noticed her eating in the dining chamber again, althoughshe ate alone. His heart ached for her. He knew a kindred spirit whenhe saw one.

"Geoffrey? Sweetheart, are you with us?"

Catherine's voice finally intruded into his thoughts, and heturned in surprise, realizing he had missed her earlier statement."Oh...uh...I'm sorry, Mom. What did you say?"

Catherine smiled indulgently and repeated her question. "Do youthink you could sit with your brother tonight while your Dad and Iattend a concert in the Park?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Sure!" Geoffrey adored his babybrother, now a rambunctious handful of "terrible twos"inquisitiveness. "Will you be gone all night?" He knew that when hisparents "attended a concert in the Park," they were really going to acozy chamber Below which approximated front row seats...and that theyoften did not emerge from that chamber until long past the time theconcert was over.

"Well...let's just say we probably won't be back until past yourbedtime," Catherine replied with an impish grin on her face.

"Then it sounds like the little guy and I are going to haveourselves a slumber party!"

Catherine knew that Geoffrey's enthusiasm was genuine. Hedelighted in his brother's antics, and the youngster adored his olderbrother's attention. Sometimes young Jacob would toddle after theolder boy, undeterred by repeated pleas to return to his chamber orto his parents' presence. If there was anyone besides his Daddy thechild clung to, it was Geoffrey. And lately, despite everything, theonly thing guaranteed to bring a smile to her older son's face wasthe prospect of spending time with his little brother.

Catherine mused about her youngest. Unlike many small children,Jacob seemed to prefer the company of men. It was not that he ignoredhis Mommy -- far from it. He craved her attention. But if Daddy andMommy stood side by side and called him, he unerringly chose hisDaddy's company first.

Despite the slight injury to her maternal pride, secretlyCatherine was pleased by this preference. Geoffrey loved, revered andwas devoted to Vincent. But he was -- had always been -- primarilyher son. What they shared was a connection almost as strong as herBond with Vincent and just as hard to define. Because of thatconnection, it was inevitable that Vincent would feel a little leftout. He never complained, never begrudged her that special closenesswith their older son. But she knew how it filled Vincent's soul withhappiness that his younger son preferred his company above anyother's. And when she watched the two of them together, the tiny,sturdy child a miniature version of the tall, powerful man, it meltedher heart.

She could imagine Vincent's childhood by watching Jacob grow. Itwas such a gift to be able to participate in that experience throughthe life of their son. Catherine sighed with bliss as she thought ofhow wonderful all the men in her life were, how each was so unique,how each shared everything he was with her. She knew she was lucky tohave their love, and she felt blessed and fortunate.

Her favorite times were on lazy Sunday afternoons when all her menjoined her on the big bed in the chamber she shared with Vincent,she, her Bondmate and her eldest son taking turns reading fromwell-loved books. She especially liked it when Geoffrey leanedagainst her as he read and she could run her fingers languidlythrough his crisp curls. Unlike other teenagers, he never minded hisMom's overt displays of affection, and these days, with his sadness aseemingly permanent part of him, she knew he craved the physicalcontact which demonstrated her deep love for him. A Mother's lovecouldn't make up for everything, but she knew it helped...a little.With Geoffrey by her side, she could watch her younger son cuddled inhis Daddy's arms, both content, both purring slightly as Geoffrey'sgentle voice poured verse or prose over them. At times, Vincent wouldunconsciously stroke the soft down of his little son's unusual nosewith one hand, while Jacob curled against his broad chest, eyeshalf-closed, lulled by both Geoffrey's voice and his Daddy's love.Those quiet moments meant the world to her, and she savored them,pressed them into the book of her memories, her heart overflowingwith pleasure. She knew there would come a day when one and then bothof her sons would leave the nest and start their own such traditionswith their own families, but for now...these were the best oftimes.

Even caught up in her introspection, her mother's instinct madeher aware of the untouched food on Geoffrey's plate. "Honey, youhaven't eaten a good meal in so long...."

His eyes held a pain she had almost gotten used to. Since thatincident with Samantha over a year ago, he seemed to be cloaked in amantle of resignation; a brave sadness imbued his spirit, and nothingshe could say or do seemed to pierce it or lift it. "I'm OK, Mom.Don't worry about me." He rose, picking up his plate and cup, thenstopped to remark, "I'll commandeer my brother before dinner, OK? AndI'll bring you the evening meal when I come. Then you and Dad canhave a quiet dinner in your chamber before going to the concert. Doesthat sound like a plan?"

Always amazed at his thoughtfulness, despite numerous proofs of itover the years, Catherine smiled and nodded. Vincent voiced hisapproval gratefully. "Yes. Thank you, Geoffrey."

The young man left the table, deposited his nearly uneatenbreakfast in the appropriate receptacles, and departed from thedining chamber. Two pairs of concerned eyes followed his progress.When he turned a corner and was finally out of view, Catherine lookedat her Bondmate and shook her head. "Will the sadness ever lift, doyou think?"

Vincent shrugged, a pensive look on his face. "It seems thatanother generation of Wells men is doomed to disappointment in love."Sensing Catherine's wide-eyed look and her impending protest, heturned to her and took her small hands in his, squeezing gently."Father's true love was lost to him when he was young, and he onlyreclaimed that love, that happiness, in his later years. Iwas...wounded by the first girl I gave my heart to...only to waittwenty years before finding a greater, truer love." He bent to placea tender kiss upon his beloved's forehead, then he continued. "In theinterim, we both, Father and I, suffered in lonely, painful silence.I only hope our son does not have to wait as long."

Catherine, her eyes bright with tears, nodded and replied, "So doI, my love. So do I."

_ _ _

Brooke found Geoffrey leaning against the rickety railing over theAbyss, idly tossing pebbles into the great chasm, waiting in vain tohear them hit bottom. He looked the picture of dejection. Brooke knewthat feeling well.

She stared at him speculatively from the shelter of a nearby rockoutcropping. She had come to realize over the past few months thatthis boy's heart held a pain she knew only too well. She had noticedhow the younger Geoffrey had followed the girl Samantha around like adoting puppy, and she had also noticed how, now that they were botholder, he still gazed wistfully at her. Samantha, long accustomed tohis silent adoration, had little time for him these days. She andKipper had reached a kind of understanding and, although Fatherconsidered them too young to Join before their Tunnel family,everyone acknowledged that, sooner or later, such a Joining wouldcome to pass. It was inevitable. For Geoffrey, it was very apparentthat it was a painful inevitability.

Brooke herself had gone through a long nightmare of the soul,emerging only recently with a small measure of self-confidenceintact. Michael -- it still ached so badly to think of him -- hadbeen the focus of all her fantasies since she could remember. When hehad been accepted to college and had gone Above, tasting the delightsof the city she shied away from, still she clung to her hopes.Gradually, her child's fantasies had become her woman's dreams.

She still recalled with chagrin the conversation she'd had withhim while he was home for a long weekend over a year ago, severalmonths before Winterfest. As always, she had filled him in on thehappenings of life Below and had urged him to share his experiencesAbove. Even the most mundane activities were so foreign and exotic toher, but more than anything, she just wanted to hear his voice, torevel in the pleasure of him speaking directly to her, only her.

At one point, she had coyly asked if he'd found a friend Above toreplace her yet. She knew she was blatantly fishing for some signthat she was the most important woman in his life. Even though he'dnever given her the slightest reason to believe he was romanticallyinclined toward her, in her mind they had an understanding, they weresoulmates, and...in time...he would tell her what was in his heart.That day, he had finally told her what was in his heart. And whathe'd said to her had stunned her....

"You know you'll always be my best pal, Brooke. And that's why Iwanted you to be the first to know -- I've been seeing this girl,Sarah. She's...wonderful! She's everything I ever imagined theperfect woman to be. She's so smart and funny and sensitiveand....well, I love her. I know you will too, once you meet her. Andsomeday, I hope you find someone as incredible to love. I've askedher to marry me, but please don't say anything to anyone yet. Let itbe just our secret, OK? I need to make plans first, tell her aboutthe Tunnels, that kind of thing. I want to announce it officially atWinterfest, when I bring her Below to meet everyone."

She could never tell him, after that...could never tell him thatshe had already found that someone...and that it was him.

After that fateful conversation, she had descended into awhirlpool of emotional turmoil. If she couldn't count on her dreamscoming true, what was left for her? She began to question every otherassumption in her life, finding only more uncertainty, moreconfusion. It had all seemed so simple once. She had been confidentof the path upon which her future would unfold. She had only to waitfor her beloved to finish school, and he would come back home to her,make a life with her here, Below. But one conversation had snatchedall that away from her.

She withdrew from all the company she had formerly delighted in.Her Tunnel family was aware of the miasma of bleak despair whichsurrounded her, but she would tell no one of the reason for hermisery, and would accept no offer of concern or assistance. Sherefused all attempts by others to break through the walls she haderected between her heart and the world.

When Michael had announced his engagement at the last Winterfestcelebration, she had thought she would not survive the pain. But,surprising herself, she had survived it. And, as astonished as shewas by that, she took heart from it. She had managed to endure theworst, the death of her dream, and still she was standing. Slowly,carefully, painfully, she began to do more than just stand. She beingto take a few halting steps back to life. In the months sinceWinterfest, she had regained some of her equilibrium. She still had along road ahead of her, but for the first time in a very long time,she was beginning to look forward to the journey.

Now, as she contemplated the young man before her, she recognizedthe melancholy, the heartache. What he was going through was not sodifferent from her own rough passage. Yet even with his own pain, hehad made several offers in recent months to take her to concerts oreven to join her for dinner. She had refused all of them, feeling hewas only doing it out of pity. But now, she wondered. Perhaps he hadbeen reaching out to one like himself, another soul in torment whocould understand his anguish, who wouldn't try to cheer him up, butjust let him be. She hadn't been fair to him, too blinded by her ownmisery to understand that he was miserable too.

Coming to a decision, she pushed away from the rock wall againstwhich she had been leaning and crossed to the middle of the unstablebridge, stopping to lean against the railing just a few feet fromwhere he stood.

"Hi, Geoffrey."

He started, looking up quickly, as if his mind had been a millionmiles away. He offered her a brief, shy smile as he replied, "Hi,Brooke. Saw you at breakfast today."

She nodded. "I guess I've decided to rejoin the world."

He smiled again, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He utteredone word: "Good." Then he turned away to resume his contemplation ofthe dark chasm beneath their feet.

Brooke recognized a dismissal when she saw one. She'd deliveredenough of them herself over the past year, until her moodiness hadensured that she was left strictly alone unless it was she whoinitiated a conversation. However determined she was now to enterinto the mainstream of life again, it was up to her to make theeffort, to prove to others that she wanted to become a true part ofthis world again.

"Geoffrey? I...want to apologize to you."

Jarred from his thoughts once again, he asked, "Why?"

"You've tried to be kind to me in the past, and I've rebuffed you.I let my pain take over my life for the longest time. Now...I hope Ican make amends."

Shaking his head, he replied, "There's no need, Brooke. Iunderstood."

She smiled ruefully. "I had a feeling you did. More than anyoneelse, you understand what I've been going through, haven't you?"

A sardonic smile crossed his face. "You could say that."

"I know it's going to sound funny...especially considering howI've acted toward you recently...but...if you ever want to talk...."Brooke let the sentence dangle. After a long moment, she realized hewasn't taking the bait. She wasn't surprised when he didn't take herup on her offer. She hadn't figured he would, not really. "If...ifyou ever change your mind...come see me...anytime. I've been there,Geoffrey. Boy, have I been there. I know it's not a pretty place. Thepain, the jealousy, the longing...."

Geoffrey stood up straight. He tossed the remaining handful ofpebbles away and said abruptly but not unkindly, "Excuse me." Inanother moment, she was alone on the bridge.

"Oh, Geoffrey....," she murmured into the chasm.

_ _ _

Samantha and Kipper strolled arm in arm through a little-used sidetunnel, oblivious to their route, lost in each other.

Kipper had done a lot of growing up in the past year. Nearlylosing the girl he loved had shocked him out of a lot of his teenageposturing, and when he was with her he treated her respectfully now.Despite his outward show of bravado, he let his friends know how muchhe valued her, too. No longer did he choose their company over hers,nor was there ever a doubt that when she entered a room, Kipper sawonly her. He still took a certain amount of razzing by hisbuddies...all except Geoffrey...but it just didn't bother himanymore. He had almost made a bad mistake just to make himself lookmacho in front of a couple of goofy friends. But when Samantha cameback to him, he vowed to himself that he would never again take herfor granted.

Kipper halted their forward progress, turning to wrap his armsaround his girl. Samantha smiled tenderly at him and raised her chin,presenting her lips for kissing. He took the hint, and soon they werecaught up in the rapture of this gentle union.

As Geoffrey rounded the corner, he was confronted by this tenderscene. It hit him with all the force of a sucker punch. How could hebear this? Tears welled in his eyes and he felt the blood rush to hisface, his heart beginning to race. Fists clenched, he tried tocontrol his physical reactions, but he could not. Worse still, he wasrooted to the spot, trembling, unable to pull his eyes away as thesight tore great gaping holes in his already lacerated heart.Finally, he wrenched himself away -- unwilling witness to thisintimate tableau -- and compelled his rubbery legs to carry him backthe way he had come, to hold him up just for the few steps necessaryto hide his torment and shame from the view of the entwined lovers.As if they had eyes for anyone but each other, he tauntedhimself.

Alone now, sagging against the tunnel wall, he began to forcelong, deep breaths into his lungs, willing himself to some semblanceof calm. When he felt capable of moving again, he turned and began torun blindly, anxious only to put a great distance between himself andthe vicinity of this fresh pain.

He ran for a long time, until his breath burned like fire and hislegs protested angrily, shaking with the effort they could no longerendure. He was panting heavily when he finally pulled up and leanedone arm against a tunnel wall, bent nearly double with the task ofmerely taking in enough oxygen. A noise nearby startled him. When helooked up, he saw Brooke coming out of a chamber entrance.

One look at the gasping, miserable young man was all Brooke neededto see. Without a second thought, she moved swiftly to his side.Placing a hand on his back, she gingerly rubbed his tense muscles,offering this tactile comfort but not sure of how it would bereceived. "Come inside, Geoffrey. You don't have to talk to me.Just...come inside."

His eyes were wide and glassy, and at first he stared at her as ifhe didn't know her. She waited patiently, though, and in a fewmoments she saw the briefest nod of his head.

"Good. I have a small pitcher of lemonade inside, William'slargesse after I tackled the pots and pans from lunch for him." Shesmiled encouragingly and took him by the arm, steering him into thechamber from which she'd just emerged. She guided him to an oldoverstuffed armchair which had seen better days and urged him to sitbefore turning to pour him a glass of the refreshing liquid. He drankthirstily, and when he'd finished the glass, she emptied theremainder of the contents of the pitcher into it and he gratefullyaccepted another glassful from her. By this time, his breathing hadreturned to normal, and he leaned back in the chair, eyes closed, asperspiration dripped from his forehead and chin. Brooke took awashcloth from her bureau and gently wiped his face, patting the hairaround his temples to absorb the excess moisture there. When shefinished, she stood back, regarding him solemnly.

Finally, Geoffrey opened his eyes and looked up at her. He sighedgustily. "Thanks, Brooke."

She took a seat on the shabby ottoman beside his chair and smiledat him. "No thanks are necessary. As your Mom once told me, it's'professional courtesy.' " In answer to his puzzled expression, sheexplained, "From one veteran of the wars to another."

He grinned sheepishly. "Is that what I am?"

"Yep. A veteran in the war of love."

He snorted. "A battle-scarred veteran."

She laughed wryly. "Is there any other kind?"

_ _ _

"Where we goin', Geoffy?" His childhood nickname was reborn oncehis little brother began to talk. His full name was still too muchfor the little fellow to pronounce.

"It's a secret, Jake-o. A big secret," Geoffrey whisperedconspiratorially.

Jacob shivered with delight. If there was one thing he loved, itwas going on adventures with his adored brother. Secret adventureswere rare and all the more treasured. With his hand trustinglycradled in the older boy's, he allowed himself to be led. Soon, theycame to a side tunnel which the youngster didn't recognize. His worldso far was bound by the more traveled ways: from home chambers toGrampa's, the dining chamber, Aunt Mary's. This tunnel was dark andmysterious, and he would have been frightened if not for the comfortand security of the hand holding his.

"We're almost there, little man. It's j-u-s-t beyond this nextturn...here!"

Jacob stopped, confused, not seeing what was so special about thisparticular junction of tunnel. He looked up...way up...into the faceof his brother and smiled uncertainly. "Where, Geoffy?"

"Turn around, Jacob." Geoffrey indicated with his outstretchedhand the direction he meant.

The younger boy turned and saw a break in the rock wall; it lookedlike a chamber entrance, and a glow emanated from beyond it. Helooked up again at his brother, suddenly uneasy. He didn't want to goin there -- in...where? -- all alone. Geoffy wouldn't make him, wouldhe? He decided that sometimes adventures could be frightening. Jacobraised both arms, suddenly needing to be held, reassured.

Geoffrey complied, lifting the child easily and settling himsnugly against his hip. He wrapped his arms firmly about the boy,letting him know by that physical contact how safe he should alwaysfeel when he was with his big brother. The young boy's arms snakedaround his neck, gripping him quite tightly.

Just before entering the chamber, Geoffrey whispered into hisbrother's ear, "Don't be scared, little man. It's real pretty inthere." He followed that with a gentle kiss to a chubby cheek, andJacob leaned contentedly against his brother's shoulder, histrepidation eased, as they began to walk inside.

The first few steps into the chamber revealed nothing but blandrockface. Suddenly, they emerged into a low cavern filled with acolor Jacob had never seen in such profusion Below. The rock wallsseemed to glow with a deep blue light, filling the chamber with abeauty that took his breath away.

"What do you think, Jake-o?" Geoffrey whispered.

"It'th bootiful," was the solemn pronouncement.

"Grampa can explain the scientific reason why the walls give offthis color, but I come just because I think it's 'bootiful' too."

"Can I touch?" Jacob was so mesmerized, he'd forgotten to beafraid.

"Sure. Just don't try to eat it, OK?"

At the child's nod of assurance, Geoffrey set him down and let himexplore. He took a seat on a ledge and watched his little brothertoddle around the chamber, pausing to examine this and that along theway. He loved these adventures as much as Jacob did. It amazed him tosee this world through the youngster's eyes. The commonplace becamewondrous all over again.

As his eyes scanned the chamber, he realized they were not alone.In a far corner sat someone else -- a woman. He squinted in the lowlight until his eyes discerned the features. Brooke. She lifted anarm and waved. He rose then and, keeping an eye out for his obliviouslittle brother, made his way over to her.

"Hi."

"Hi, Geoffrey." She patted the ground beside her, inviting him tojoin her. "I didn't want to disturb you when you first came in. Isthis Jacob's first time in the Blue Cavern?"

Settling himself next to her, he nodded. "I like to take him onlittle adventures. He gets such a kick out of them. And so do I."

She looked at him and smiled. "You're a good brother."

He shrugged. "I love the little guy like crazy, Brooke. He's sospecial."

Nodding, she remarked, "He gets that from his parents...and fromyou."

Geoffrey shook his head, refusing the compliment. "I'm notspecial, Brooke. Not special at all."

Surprised by the depth of self-loathing his comment revealed, shedemurred. "How can you say that? That little boy adores you. Your Momthinks you walk on water. Vincent's so proud of you he practicallybursts his buttons whenever he speaks of you. If those three feelthat way, you must be special."

Adamant, he insisted, "They're my family, Brooke. They love me.They'd love me no matter what."

"Maybe. But there's love...and there's love."

A quick pain flashed through his eyes. "Don't."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...." Before Brooke could finish herthought, she was interrupted by the sound of little feet running upto them.

"Geoff-eeeee!" Jacob squealed. "Neat!"

"Told you so, little man!" Geoffrey rubbed a hand over the child'stousled blond mane. "Do you remember Brooke?"

Jacob scrunched his face up in an obvious effort to remember herface. But she had kept so much to herself these past months, she hadbecome almost a ghost even to long-time residents; to a child asyoung as Jacob, several months was an eternity. Finally, he shook hishead to indicate he did not. But he did remember his manners. "Hi,"he said shyly, and stuck out his hand to shake hers.

Very solemnly, Brooke returned his "Hi" with her own "Hello,Jacob," and shook his offered hand.

Geoffrey hugged his little brother to let him know he'd acted likethe perfect gentleman, then asked, "Is the intrepid explorer readyfor his snack now?"

Jacob wasn't quite sure what "trepid" meant, but "snack" heclearly understood. At the boy's enthusiastic nod, Geoffrey rummagedin the pack he had brought along and pulled out slices of applewrapped in a cloth napkin. "You know the rules, Jake. Sit when youeat. Wrap leftovers in the cloth and give them back to me."

Jacob plopped himself down between his brother's legs and withtotal concentration accepted the bundle and carefully unwrapped hisapple slices, then proceeded to devour four of them in quicksuccession.

Geoffrey noted that he was spearing the slices with his claws tocarry them to his mouth. It was a habit his parents were trying tobreak him of. He knew he should probably say something, but thelittle guy was behaving so well and having such a good time, he hatedto correct him for something...especially in front of his new friend.He didn't want to embarrass the kid. Oh, well...ignoring it one timeprobably wouldn't hurt. Instead, he turned to their companion.

"I've got more, Brooke, if you'd like to share?"

"Sure, thanks!"

He pulled an apple and a pear from his pack, offering her achoice. She selected the pear, and they both began to eat, watchingJacob as he enjoyed his snack. When they had all finished, Geoffreyaccepted the remnants of the repast from each of them and storedeverything back in his pack. Jacob quickly got bored sitting with thesilent adults, and shortly he was off again, exploring the wonders ofthis magical cavern.

After watching him watch Jacob for a while, Brooke said,"Geoffrey? Would you prefer that I leave? Did you want to bealone?"

He looked at her as he replied hurriedly, "No. I mean, I'd like itif you stayed."

She nodded. "OK, then I will."

He turned away, looking toward the toddler again for a while, notsaying anything. Finally, he asked, "How...how are you doing thesedays?"

Shrugging, she replied, "A little better each day. It takes sometime, I guess. But I'm feeling better than I ever imagined I'd feelagain."

He thought about feeling "better." He hardly remembered a timewhen he'd felt "better" for more than a few minutes at a time. Withhis brother...with his Mom sometimes. But mostly...mostly there was acold, empty place where his happiness once dwelled. "How longbefore...you start to feel that way?"

Eyeing him sympathetically, she commented, "I can't tell you that.Your circumstances, in some ways, are worse than mine. You can'treally...avoid...the situation." She could see his eyes fill withtears before he pretended to be quite interested in his shoelaces."Like...the other day?"

He nodded. She saw the drops fall from his eyes to the dustycavern floor.

Murmuring gently, she offered her hard-won wisdom. "It's up toyou, Geoffrey. You have to decide how much...how much you can let itall affect you. One day you'll wake up and...decide you need to putit behind you. I can't tell you how long that'll take. I only promisethat one day it will happen."

He turned to look at her then, not trying to hide the tears thatcoursed down his cheeks. "It hurts...so bad," he whispered.

Brooke leaned over and took him gently into her arms. "I know. Iknow." She held him as he wept, watching over his shoulder throughtearful eyes to ensure that Jacob was OK.

_ _ _

"Hi, Bwooke!" Little Jacob threw himself into her outstretchedarms as the young woman knelt in the doorway to the dining chamber.

"Hi, little man," she replied as she hugged him tight. She hadbegun to use the endearments his brother used, feeling that, sinceeveryone else called him only "Jacob," he could use a couple ofdecent nicknames to add spice to his life. She'd never had a nicknameherself, and growing up, she'd always been mildly jealous of thosewho did.

"Eat wif uth?" her greeter begged.

Brooke looked up to see Geoffrey just sitting down with a platefulof food and Catherine and Vincent still getting their meals. Geoffreybeckoned her over to the table. "We have plenty of room. Please, joinus."

Catherine came up behind her son and seconded the invitation, soBrooke felt comfortable in accepting. She sat where Jacob indicatedby a pat of his chubby little hand, right between him and his Mommy,with Geoffrey on his other side. Smiling an apology at havingdisplaced Catherine by her young son's side, Brooke said, "Thankyou."

Catherine didn't begrudge the young woman at all. Wanting her tofeel at ease, she made a point of including her in theirconversation. "Geoffrey mentioned that you and he will be takingJacob to the Falls later today for a picnic and swimming lesson."

Brooke looked suddenly worried, and quickly asked Catherine, "Isthat OK?"

Catherine smiled warmly at the girl. She's as skittish as a coltstill, poor thing. "Of course. I think it's a wonderful idea. Itprobably will take the two of you to keep a handle on him. He'sgotten to be quite the boisterous young man." She smiled fondly ather youngest, who was too busy carving a valley in his mashedpotatoes to listen to adult conversations. With his little pinktongue stuck between his lips in concentration, he was laboriouslydrawing his fork through the white peaks.

Looking indulgently at the earnest child, Brooke murmured, "Marymentioned the other day that he's so different than Vincent was atthat age, not shy or quiet at all."

Catherine considered the statement for a moment. "Yes, I imagine.Not only does he have his own unique and very dear personality, buthe's got his Daddy to look to, to give him confidence. He's not an'only' child in any sense."

Brooke looked up in surprise at Catherine's comment. She'd neverreally though about what it must have been like for Vincent, growingup so different. No matter how much love he received, one couldn'tdiscount the burden of "otherness" he must have carried when he couldnot see his face reflected in another's. How comforting and affirmingit must be for Jacob to gaze into his Daddy's face, to look at hisDaddy's hands, and find a mirror there.

Vincent sat down beside Catherine. Brooke found her attentionimmediately focused on the older man. She had always loved him -- asa teacher, as a friend. Now, she admired him all the more forovercoming such incredible odds, for forging a happy life for himselfdespite all the barriers he had to overcome. She was just a girl whenhe had first met Catherine and she had seen nothing unusual in theirrelationship at the time -- it had all seemed just too romantic forwords. Yet now that she thought about it -- what an amazing leap offaith that was, for both of them. She gazed in awe at the oldercouple. Would she ever find something as wonderful in her ownlife?

A tug on her sleeve diverted her attention to her tiny dinnercompanion. "Want a dwink," came the imperious order. Shaking her headat his single-mindedness, she held his cup while he sipped,tolerating the noisy slurping he couldn't yet help -- drinkingquietly when one had fangs, Geoffrey had once told her, was beyondthe ability of a child his age.

Becoming absorbed in such activities, a hallmark of dinner withVincent's family, Brooke forgot she used to be uncomfortable in acrowd.

_ _ _

Brooke flopped down on the blanket, exhausted from the swimminglesson and general running around that had engaged them for the pasttwo hours. She had just finished packing up the remnants of theirpicnic lunch, and she shook her head ruefully. How one little boycould tire out two grown-ups was beyond her. Finally, though, heseemed to have gone down for a nap, and she and Geoffrey would betaking advantage of the break to rest themselves.

"Is he asleep?" she murmured. After lunch, Geoffrey had startedrocking a squirming Jacob in his arms, determinedly humming hisMother's special lullaby to the recalcitrant child. Gradually -- verygradually -- Jacob had quieted, then his eyelids had drooped, andnow, finally, he seemed to have dropped off. Geoffrey nodded whilestill humming. He placed the boy atop a nest of cushions they hadbrought with them. Then, as the boy lay there dozing, Geoffreystroked his face and whispered in his ear -- loving words, no doubt.Brooke thought she'd never seen such gentleness and patience in sucha young man. He was so kind and caring. She was glad they werebecoming friends. Even if he was six years younger in age, sometimeshe seemed more mature than she was. 'Born old' was a phrase she'dheard applied to him, and now she was beginning to understand whatthat meant.

She glanced around the immense cavern. The sound of the falls wasa wonderful counterpoint to the soft lullaby Geoffrey was stillhumming. The little cove where they had laid out their blanket was ina backwater; the water here was shallow and calm, perfect forswimming lessons, for splashing and playing, or for dangling one'sfeet. She wished she had the energy to do the latter, but shehonestly didn't think she had enough left even for that smalleffort.

Geoffrey's voice, soft and low, surprised her. He had come to sitbeside her so quietly she hadn't noticed his approach. "You look likeyou could use a nap, too."

She smiled at him. "I could at that!"

"Would you like me to sing you a lullaby?"

He seemed serious. While she was still trying to decide if he was,he lay back and lifted one arm, inviting her to lie down and becradled against him. Stunned, she realized she really wanted toaccept that invitation. She allowed herself to be drawn down besidehim. She felt awkward, tense, numb. Then, as he promised, he began tohum again, very softly. Still, the rumbling of his humming vibrateddeep in his chest; she could feel it as she lay against him. Slowlyshe let herself relax. He held her gently, loosely, not in a romanticembrace, but in a comforting one. She thought of how long it had beensince she'd accepted the embrace of another, and of how much warmthand companionship the mere act of touching could convey. How luckyhis little brother is, she thought, as she drifted off to sleep.

_ _ _

"Has...has Geoffrey spoken to you at all about...Brooke?"

"No, Catherine. Why? Does the relationship worry you?"

Vincent had awakened her when he returned from sentry duty at 4:00a.m. They had loved each other sweetly all morning, both in a verytender mood. Sometimes their couplings were fierce, almost stunninglyso, and sometimes they were like today -- ethereal, magical. But eachwas so attuned to the other that they fell into their lovemakingknowing what the other wanted, needed most. Their Bond ensured theiraffinity, but it was their deep knowledge, each of the other, thathoned their loving to a fine art. In their years together, they hadpleasured each other thousands of times, yet each time still feltnew; each touch, each embrace unique and precious. Now they lay in alanguid tangle, replete and comforted, cocooned in the warmth oftheir Bond, their love, their passionate commitment to each other.Catherine's question represented a jarring note to an otherwiseperfect morning, as Vincent discerned the tendrils of unease begin toripple through their Bond.

"Not exactly. I mean...well...." Catherine propped herself up onone elbow and looked into her beloved's face. "I love Brooke. She's awonderful person. I wish I could have helped her these past months,but she didn't seem to want it."

As he stroked her back to soothe her, Vincent replied, "Nor mine,Catherine. Rightly or wrongly, she felt she had to work through thatsorrow on her own. We have to respect her choice."

She nodded, resigned. "I do. And Geoffrey...he hasn't been able toshare his pain with anyone either, not even me. I ache for him,Vincent."

"I know." He nuzzled against her, offering his comfort as theirBond reflected her sympathy for their troubled son.

She kissed his softly bristled cheek, grateful for the strong,calming presence beside her. Snuggling deep within his embrace, shemused, "Now...it seems these two lost souls...."

"You are afraid they are turning to each other for the wrongreasons?"

Catherine sighed. "I don't know. I hope not. I'd hate to see themhurt again. And if this doesn't work out...."

His warm breath tickled her ear as he reminded her, "We cannotprotect them from hurt, my love. If they need each other as friendsright now, I'm glad they found each other. If it turns into somethingmore...well, they are both gentle spirits, they would be a goodmatch."

"But what if it's a mistake?"

"Catherine...." he rumbled warningly.

"I know." She smiled against his broad chest, pressed a kissthere, then rose again to gaze into the mesmerizing azure of hiseyes. "But I can worry, can't I? That's a Mother's prerogative, isn'tit?"

He lifted his face to hers, kissing her gently. "And aFather's."

_ _ _

"Brooke? May I enter?"

"Of course, Vincent! Come in." The words were welcoming, but hervoice sounded choked, muffled.

He found her tussling in a mock wrestling match with his youngestson, the child squealing in delight as her probing fingers foundticklish spot after ticklish spot. Her face was flushed and her hairin disarray as she sat back and looked up at the older man, blowingstray curls out of her eyes. "This is one strong young man!" shereported. Jacob, to prove the point, launched himself at her, pushingher backward, then declared, "I win!"

Laughing, she hugged him and asserted, "Yes, I guess you did!" Shekissed him soundly on the forehead, brushing at his mass of softtresses in a vain attempt to neaten them.

"Hi, Daddy! I won!" Now that he had conquered Brooke, he headedfor his Daddy, but his attempt to knock Vincent off his feet met withno success. He couldn't even budge him. Abandoning this effort, Jacobtried to tickle his Daddy, but his ticklish places were all beyondthe toddler's reach, no matter how high he jumped. Indulgently,Vincent sat upon the ground in one graceful movement and allowedhimself to be pummeled by his triumphantly crowing son.

Brooke watched them together. Vincent rarely smiled as widely oras unselfconsciously as when he was engaged with Jacob. At thosetimes, it seemed he cared for nothing in the world but the sparkle inthe young child's eyes. It was so obvious how deeply he adored Jacob,yet the youngster didn't seem to be the least bit spoiled. Brookemarveled at the complexities of parenthood, and how Vincent alwaysseemed to know the right thing to say or do.

As he hugged his little one, Vincent spoke to her over the boy'sshoulder. "I thought I would find Geoffrey here."

She nodded. "He was here. But Jacob forgot his favorite storybook,and even though I happen to own a copy of the same story, he insistedthat he must be read to from his own version. Geoffrey went back forit. He should return in a few minutes."

Jacob, hearing himself spoken about, offered an explanation. "Ican wead my book. Can't wead Bwooke's."

Vincent smiled and remarked to the young woman, "He has each pagememorized. He 'reads' it to us often. Although he knows the story byheart...."

"...he can't turn the pages at the right point in my book," Brookefinished knowingly.

Vincent nodded. He set his son on his feet, and Jacob ran to acoloring book that Brooke had set out for him, intrigued by thepictures of knights and castles. With great care, he selected a colorfrom the box of crayon stubs beside him and began to work. Afterwatching him for a moment, Vincent turned back to the youngwoman.

"How are you, Brooke?" His voice was full of gentle concern.

Looking straight into his eyes, she was happy to tell him, "I'mreally...fine. For the first time in a long time, I feel...humanagain."

She saw the genuine pleasure in his eyes, but saw that pleasureturn into something dark as he hesitated, then asked, "Do youthink...Geoffrey is feeling...human again?"

Sitting back on her heels, she contemplated the question. In thethree months since she had poured Geoffrey the last of her lemonadeand let him recover his equilibrium in her armchair, they had seenmore and more of each other. Often, their meetings were nothing morethan short chats as they passed in the tunnels. But they also hadspent time together -- eating meals, taking care of Jacob, or justtalking. It wasn't so much what they'd said to each other as the factthat they had known how the other felt that had drawn them closer.Brooke knew that, in many ways, Geoffrey had helped her to overcomethe last of her trauma. Had she been able to do the same for him?

"We...we don't talk about...the past...too often, Vincent. So...Idon't know." She shrugged her shoulders and looked apologetically athim. "All I can tell you is that his friendship has been a godsend.To have someone who understands without words being spoken, someonewho offers only kindness, demanding nothing in return.... I guess Idon't have to tell you what a special person he is."

Vincent nodded, then looked down, not meeting her eyes. "And whata young one."

Brooke was shocked by the implication. "Oh, God...Vincent, Iswear...nothing's happening...." She began to blush furiously. In alltheir months together, she'd never even thought of him in a romanticway. Now she saw their relationship through Vincent's eyes andrealized what others must be thinking. Maybe...what Geoffrey himselfmight be thinking? Was she doing to him what Michael hadunconsciously done to her? She closed her eyes and shuddered. To behealed at the cost of Geoffrey's heart, it would be too much tobear.

In a hoarse whisper, she avowed, "I don't know how...how he feels,but I'll find out. Truthfully, at this moment, I don't even know whatI feel...." She gulped a deep breath, then continued, "But I promiseyou, I would never hurt him."

Vincent considered her statement for a moment, then smiled gentlyand leaned forward to place a tender kiss upon her brow. "Take careof both your hearts, Brooke." Her eyes filled with tears, and whenshe looked up, he had gone.

_ _ _

"Could you meet me by the Abyss when you finish sentry dutytonight, Brooke?"

She looked up from her meatloaf to find Geoffrey staring intentlyat her. Concerned by his seriousness, she nodded. "Sure. What'sup?"

He shook his head, dismissing her query. "I'd rather wait untilthen. I...I have something I want to say to you."

_ _ _

By the time her sentry duty was over, Brooke was in a high stateof agitation. Since her conversation with Vincent a few days ago, shehad tried several times to bring up the subject of their relationshipwith Geoffrey, to attempt to define it, but each time she had beenunable to form the right words and have given up before she started.If he sensed some unease in her, he didn't say anything about it,however. But this meeting, held away from their chambers and in thedepths of the night, seemed somehow ominous. She didn't know what toexpect. But maybe, after he'd said what he had to say, she'd finallyfind a way to introduce the topic she'd been trying to discuss withhim. God, she didn't want to hurt him. She'd been so wrapped up inher own petty concerns, she wasn't even sure how their friendship wasaffecting her best friend. That's what he'd become in the past months-- her best, closest, dearest, most trusted friend. Saying a silentprayer, she approached the appointed meeting spot.

"Hi, Geoffrey." She stood beside him, thinking of the last timethey'd met here, all those months ago, Geoffrey tossing pebbles intothe Abyss, her trying to reach out to his pain.

"Brooke. Thanks for coming. We need to talk. Well...I need totalk."

Oh, God. "I'm listening." He looked so serious. Butterfliesinvaded her stomach and her knees felt weak.

Unaware of her consternation, Geoffrey began to tell her what wason his mind. "I'm confused about a lot of things, but there's onething I'm sure of, and it's that we're friends. We trust each otherto tell the truth, we don't hold back what we're thinking...orfeeling. I treasure that."

She nodded. "So do I."

He smiled, then went on. "Somewhere along the line, I got tothinking about...about Sam. About how she and I have never reallybeen friends...not the way you and I are. And I suspect, in yourheart, you realize it was the same way with you and Michael."

Strange, how hearing his name didn't bring even a twinge of painanymore. When had that stopped happening? She considered whatGeoffrey had said. Finally, she replied, "You're right. I neverthought of it before, but...yes. A lot of our relationship was in myhead, in my fantasies. He never meant to hurt me, probably stilldoesn't know he did. I really can't blame him for how Ifeel...felt."

Geoffrey added, "It was more of a crush...although one withdevastating consequences."

"Yes."

Looking out into the darkness beyond them, he confessed, "That'swhat I recently realized about me and Sam. By the time I got aroundto telling her how I felt about her, she was already half in lovewith Kipper. But it was too late even then. She and I were never bestfriends, we never shared secrets growing up, she never indicated theslightest interest in me even after we grew up. But I loved her sodesperately, I thought that would be enough for both of us."

Brooke probed the source of her own pain. Her friend's words rangtrue. "But it wasn't. Just like with me and Michael. There never wasa 'me and Michael.' "

"No. Nor a 'me and Sam.' "

"Is that what you asked me here to tell me?" Her heart waspounding now, wondering what this was all a prelude to.

"I guess I asked you here because this was the place you firstoffered your friendship to me. I think about that moment often, youknow. How I was so relieved to hear you speak those words, eventhough I wasn't ready to respond to them." He turned to her and tookher by the shoulders, willing her to look into his eyes, to hear andunderstand him. "I think you saved my life, Brooke."

She tried, but couldn't meet the intensity of his gaze. "I...don'tknow what to say."

He let her go. "You don't have to say anything. I just wanted totell you, to let you know that your willingness to just let me be, tospend time with me, to accept everything on faith...it means more tome than I can ever say."

She felt there was something more, something he wasn't quite ableto articulate yet. "And now...?"

He looked sharply at her. "And now?"

She recovered quickly. "Nothing. I just...I thought I sensed an'and now' coming from you. If I'm wrong, I'm sorry."

He ducked his head. "No. That was all."

She took a deep breath, then plunged ahead. "Well, if that's whatyou brought me here to say, then I guess it's time for me to tell yousomething too."

He looked so vulnerable, so young, so sweet as he faced her; therewas something in his eyes -- hope? Fear? Both?

She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, then gave him arueful grin and tried again. "I've been struggling with this fordays. I still don't know how to say it. I'll probably mess it up, butI can't hold it in any longer. Bear with me, OK?"

"Sure. Take your time." Always the kind, thoughtful Geoffrey.

"Your Dad asked me the other day how I felt...and I told him that,thanks in large part to you, I was feeling almost human again." Shesmiled shyly and he smiled in return.

"That's good," he murmured.

"Then...he asked me if you were feeling almost human again, too. Iwas stunned to realize that I didn't know the answer to that." Shelooked up into his eyes. "From what you've told me tonight, I'mrelieved to know that you are. But I'm so sorry that I've been tooself-absorbed to even ask before now."

He shook his head. "That's all right."

"No, it isn't, but you're kind to say it. Anyway, I got tothinking about how our relationship must look from the outside. Imean...here we are, always seen together...is everyone getting thewrong impression?"

He stiffened visibly, and she knew she'd hurt him. "What do youmean?"

Placing her hand on his shoulder, she squeezed it lightly toreassure him. "We're best friends. That should be obvious.But...we're also...well, you're six years younger than Iam...and...." She struggled for the words until he interruptedher.

"...and you're worried people might think you're robbing thecradle?" He looked at her incredulously. "Who might think that?"

"I...don't know...." She didn't want to lie, but she didn't wantto betray the confidence either.

The light dawned in Geoffrey's eyes. "My Dad? Did my Dad ask youthat when you talked the other day?"

"Not in those words, exactly. I think more he was worried aboutyou getting hurt again."

Her eyes pleaded for understanding. But she had underestimatedhim.

His face cleared and he relaxed. "It was probably Mom. She talkedto Dad, so he came to see you and, in the gentlest way possible,hinted of their concern?"

Grateful that he grasped the context, she nodded.

Suddenly his mood shifted, and he went on cautiously. "That's notsomething we've ever talked about." No need to define what "that"meant -- they both knew.

"I know. I don't think either of us was looking for that when webecame friends." Now, finally, she had the courage to ask the crucialquestion. "Is it something you've thought of since?"

He gazed at her for a long time, then gently shook his head. "No.You?"

"No."

"Is that the 'and now' you thought I might bring up before?" Hesmiled to indicate he already knew the answer.

Lifting her eyebrows in an embarrassed acknowledgement, shenodded. "I was so afraid I'd inadvertently created a situation whichwould cause you pain. I know that, even though everyone thinks of youas a kid, you're a thoughtful and caring man, capable of handlingyour own heart. But despite that, I wouldn't for all the world wantto lead you on or hurt you."

"You won't. I trust you, Brooke."

"And now?" Half in jest, half in earnest, she asked him this mostimportant question.

He considered what she'd asked for a long moment before replying,"And now...we continue. We treasure the moment and have faith in thefuture and...what comes will come. OK?"

Smiling, happy -- genuinely happy -- she looked into the warmbrown eyes of her best friend and caught just a sparkleof...something. Or perhaps it was a reflection from her own eyes?

_ _ _

Another lazy Sunday afternoon.... Catherine lay curled inVincent's arms as he read to the family from Jacob's favoritestorybook. Leaning against her knees was Geoffrey, who was cuddlinghis brother; they were nuzzling gently, nose to nose. She could hearher younger son's purring from where she half-sat, half-lay. Shesighed deeply, content to her bones. One hand cradled her stomach,the new life there apparently lulled by the somnolent afternoon. Nokicking had disturbed her for over an hour now. She rubbed her palmlazily against the slight bulge which indicated some appendage --elbow? foot? -- pressed against her abdomen. This pregnancy had beenso unlike the first; as difficult and debilitating as that one hadbeen, this one had been nearly the opposite -- so trouble-free, itwas almost a breeze.

Vincent finished the story and put the book aside. He bent hishead to savor the aroma of Catherine's hair, a gesture as beloved asit was familiar. Closing her eyes, remembering the past, her heartfilled to overflowing with the treasures now within arm's reach.

Finally, she spoke, breaking the intimate silence. "I think it'sgoing to be soon, Geoffrey. Will you be my coach again?"

Geoffrey looked up and smiled at his Mother. Catherine's heartclutched in pride as she looked at the chiseled features of the youngman who gazed back at her so lovingly.

Over the past eight months, he had blossomed, both physically andemotionally. No trace of boyishness remained in his face. He wasfully a man now. And something inside him had finally broken free,setting his spirit soaring again. He smiled more often now, as hefaced life with his old shy confidence. He'd begun making plans,sharing his feelings again -- opening himself to possibilities.Everything within him was reflected in his frank, open face. He wasso beautiful...almost as beautiful as Vincent, in his own way. Heshone with goodness both within and without.

"Absolutely, Mom. Wouldn't miss the chance to welcome anothersibling into the world."

Jacob chimed in, "Me, too!"

Geoffrey looked down at the imp in his arms and asked verysolemnly, albeit for the hundredth time, and already knowing theanswer, "What do you want, Jake-o? A little brother or a littlesister?"

"A bwother!" was the enthusiastic reply. Tiny arms flungthemselves around his neck and the little boy explained his choice."Want one jutht like you!"

Geoffrey squeezed the little fellow to his heart, depositingkisses on his furry nose and eyebrow ridges, until the child yelpedin protest.

Watching it all, Vincent hugged Catherine closer and whisperedinto her ear, "An excellent choice, don't you think, my love?"

Love shining in her face, she looked deep into his blue, blue eyesand replied, "A dream come true."