"Carl? It's Rachel. I wondered if you and the children would like to come over here for

Thanksgiving dinner?"

"Thank you, Rachel, but we shall have to pass; all four boys have colds."

"Oh, too bad!"

"We are not really in the mood to give thanks this year anyway." said Carl, "Another time,

perhaps."

"Kiss the children for me."

"I shall. Goodbye, Rachel."

"Goodbye."

****

On Thanksgiving, Rachel contemplated the remains of the Cory Turkey; Amanda, Matthew,

Paulina, Jake, Allie , Jake Jr and Rachel herself, had barely made a dent in it.

"Help me pack this up, Helen." she told her cook, "I'm taking it over to the cottage."

****

Arms laden with baskets of food, Rachel had to ring the doorbell at the cottage with her elbow.

Steven answered the door; he wore pajamas and a robe.

"Grandma!" he said, "Grandpa's really sick!"

Carl was on the couch, with Kirkland hovering over him. Rachel put down her baskets.

"He was passed out on the floor!" Steven explained. "Me and Kirk carried him to the couch." He paused a moment. "See? He didn't even correct my grammar!"

"Then he must be sick!" Rachel laid a hand on Carl's forehead. "He's burning up! We'd better get him to bed!"

"I'm fine!" Carl insisted, as Rachel pulled him to his feet, "I just need a shower and a shave."

In Rachel's experience, sick men were divided into two categories: the ones who moaned and

groaned as though they were dying at the slightest sniffle, and the ones who denied being sick at all, even as they were being wheeled into Intensive Care. Clearly, Carl was a Denyer.

"Steven, can you support him on the other side? Kirkland, you lead the way; open the door to his room, and pull down the covers." The three of them supported the semi-conscious Carl into his monastically bare room, beside the nursery.

He roused a bit as Rachel began unbuttoning his shirt. "What are you doing?" he mumbled.

"Undressing you." said Rachel, "Where are your pajamas? Steven, you prop him up; Kirkland, can you get his shoes and socks off?"

Once Carl was under the covers, Rachel called John Hudson. "I'm sorry to disturb you on

Thanksgiving, of all days in the year, but Carl really does seem very ill."

While she was waiting for the doctor, Rachel unpacked the food she had brought.

"I thought you guys deserved a real Thanksgiving, colds or no colds.."

"That's great, Grandma." said Steven, "Even though I can't taste anything, 'cause my nose is stuffed up."

"Maybe you should go back to bed." Rachel suggested.

"I'm not sick enough to stay in bed." he said, ":Neither is Kirk; but Micky and Franky are - that's why they're so quiet."

It suddenly occurred to Rachel that she had yet to hear a sound coming from the nursery; she ran to look, and found it empty.

"Clara!" she said, "Where's your sister?"

"When we all got colds, Grandpa told Debra to take Clara over to her house, so she wouldn't

catch it."

"Debra? That's your nanny?"

"She helps Grandpa look after the kids." said Steven, who, being the eldest, clearly didn't consider himself as belonging to that category.

Rachel found the name Debra Cullen in Vicky's book of phone numbers, and gave her a call.

"Debra? This is Rachel Cory, the Harrison children's grandmother. How is Clara? - Good! I'm afraid the boys are still quite ill, and now Carl has caught their cold. Can you keep the baby for a few more days? - Thank you! "

****

"I don't need a doctor!" Carl insisted, as John squinted at the themometer which had just been

removed from Carl's mouth.

"You have a temperature of 103." John informed him. "So far, it's just a cold, but it could turn into pneumonia if you don't take care of yourself; that means bedrest, aspirins, and plenty of fluids."

"I have sick children to look after." Carl protested.

"I'll look after them." Rachel said.

"Claudia, please pack me a suitcase and send it to 711 Meadowlark Lane." Rachel said, "I'll be

staying here for at least a week. Oh, and tell the children I'll be taking leave of absence from Cory."

"Yes, Mrs Cory."

"Oh, hello, Amanda. You didn't need to bring my suitcase yourself. A taxi would have been fine."

"Mother, what are you doing here?"

"I was just going to take a tray up to the Twins." Rachel said.

"You know what I mean! What is this nonsense about you staying in this house?"

"Carl has been looking after four sick children all by himself, and now he's sick as well. So I'm taking over."

"Couldn't you just hire someone?"

"Darling, you know Jamie wants me to decide if Steven should go on living here-"

"What's to decide? Of course he shouldn"t!"

"I wish I was as certain of anything as you are of everything." said Rachel.

"How are we supposed to manage at Cory, if you're here?"

"The same way you managed when I was out of town, I guess."

"That was different!"

"I have faith in you, and Matthew, and even Iris." said Rachel, "I'm sure the three of you can cope."

Rachel took her suitcase upstairs, to what had been Ryan and Vicky's bedroom. A strong sense of their presence lingered there; it wasn't just their clothes still in the closets, or the hairbrush with Vicky's blonde hair caught in the bristles on the dressing table; Rachel felt as though they were watching her.

"I hope you don't mind." she said, "This is the only room left."

That's fine, Rachel

While Steven was helping her load the dishwasher after dinner, Rachel noticed a jar half-full of dried something on the kitchen counter. "What's this?"

"Some herb tea stuff Aunt Frankie sent over." said Steven, "Grandpa makes us drink a cup of it three times day. It tastes awful!"

"It's purple coneflower root - that's echinea -" Frankie explained, "Liquorice root , goldenseal,

ginger, yarrow, coltsfoot -"

The doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" said Steven.

"Hello, Steven!" said Grant, with his best smarmy smile, "I've come to see Kirkland."

"In your dreams, Grant!" Steven tried to close the door, but his ten-year-old strength was no

match for that of Grant, who was determined to hold it open.

"I'll talk to you later, Frankie. Bye!" Rachel hung up the phone.

"You are violating a court order, Grant!" she said, "Go away!"

"Rachel, it's Thanksgiving!"

"The injunction still applies."

"I - I heard that Kirkland is sick."

"Seeing you wouldn't make him any better!" Rachel was implacable.

Grant put on his best wounded look. "I know Victoria hated me," he said, "But I hoped you would be more reasonable."

"After the way you treated Amanda, you expect sympathy from me?"

"Rachel, I love that boy!"

"Really?" said Rachel, "That's odd, because my reading of you is that you're a classic sociopath - which means that you are incapable of loving anyone except yourself!"

Meanwhile Steven had been busy on the telephone. "I called the police!" he cried, "They're coming to arrest you!"

"You'd better leave, Grant!" said Rachel.

"And don't come back!" Steven yelled at Grant's retreating back.

"He must have found out that Carl is sick." said Rachel. "He thought I'd be easier to con."

"He doesn't know you!"

Dad? Carl opened his eyes. Ryan was smiling down at him.

"Ryan? Is it really you?"

Big as life and twice as ugly!

"Oh Ryan! My beautiful boy! I miss you so!"

I miss you, too, Dad.

"Son, I won't let you down. I'll take good care of your Little Ones."

I know you will, Dad. I trust you. I love you. I know you have a lot of love to give - to the

kids, and to Rachel.

"Rachel? That dream ended a long time ago."

A Hutchins never gives up, remember?

Steven! Kirkland!

"MOM!" They flung themselves into Vicky's arms.

Oh, I miss you guys so much!

"Why did you and Daddy have to die?" said Kirkland.

That's - just the way it is. said Vicky, But we will always be watching over you.

Steven was looking around. "Where are we? Is this Heaven?" It wasn't the way he had pictured it at all.

Not exactly. It's the old playground in Lassiter, the town where I grew up. It was my

favorite place in the world, when I was your age. said Vicky, Hey, let's go on the swings!

Rachel had fallen asleep on the couch. Ryan leaned over her and whispered in her ear.

You know, Rachel, Carl's feelings for you haven't changed. He loves you - he always will.

Rachel murmured something unintelligible.

Once you're dead, you realize what a precious gift life is, and you regret every second of it

that you wasted. You still have a lot of living to do, Rachel. Don't waste it!

Rachel opened her eyes. She had better check on Carl and the children and then go to bed.

Morning would come soon enough.

"Ryan, come back!" Carl was mumbling, "Don't go!"

Rachel got some aspirins and some of Frankie's herb tea into him.

"Try and get some sleep." she said.

"Goodnight, My Love."

He's delerious. Rachel decided.

To be continued