Two pairs of eyes opened shortly after eight. Small stomachs rumbled.

Across the hall there was movement, a big body rolling over in hopes of a last minute or two of sleep. But habit was strong in Elmore and the dark eyes finally slid open. Elmore yawned deeply as he sat up, then he stretched, movements those of a well oiled watch mechanism.

He snapped on his bedside radio and the sounds of the local Country Western station filled the room.

Elmore stretched his legs out before him, gave his toes some minor attention and clipped a nail or two.

He liked the morning, and didn't even mind the cold. It was a good time to run, when running was part of the plan. This morning he would settle for a workout and a shower. With that in mind, he reached under his bed for the ten pound weights he kept there.

His first sortie netted him an electronic poker game and the remote control to the DVD machine.

Another probe revealed a couple of pairs of socks badly in need of the washing machine and a large orange and white Tomcat.

Elmore scratched the cat's chin. The animal regarded him calmly, but a purr boomed out at Elmore. Twocat was an old warrior, and not without reason did Deb sometimes refer to him as the Strannix of cats. But Two was a warrior with a sweet nature, as made plain by his tolerance of Elmore's attempt to perform curls with him. He hung in the big hand, balanced perfectly, and allowed two before he started to squirm. Elmore tossed the cat gently and the animal made a textbook four point landing on white feet. Elmore rose and opened his door.

Two trotted swiftly out of the room and Elmore thought he would be catless.

Two small faced regarded him from across the hall.

A tiny black cat scrambled between Elmore's ankles.

Elmore spun around, to lunge after the kitten. It he didn't eject the animal, he'd come in for a nap and find the beast attached to his head, kneading and chewing on his hair. Too late, damnit! A thick black tail was just disappearing under the king size bed.

Mick and Nuala began giggling, obviously delighted with themselves and the situation. Elmore chased them off and headed for the shower.

It was still every dark in Sam's corner of the world. The heavy drapes and blinds saw to this. He was awake, but lying absolutely still. his hands were behind his head, fingers laced together. He stared into the blackness.

He could hear noises in the house. Elmore's shower was running, the children were giggling and wrestling like two puppies in a sack, Gaerity was booting up that miserable fucking Irish radio shit he listened to religiously. Outside there were hungry animals firing up and that would bring someone from the room at the end of the hall.

Sam thought back, unwillingly, to quiet mornings in his home office, reading faxes and emails, drinking strong coffee, smelling fragrant Early Grey steeping in the cup on the other desk--oh, Goddamnit!

Sam itched to light up a cigar. It might have helped him calm himself. But he didn't dare and he knew it. As always, the thought was ruefully amusing. Strannix generally walked the walk and talked the talk in his own home, but smoking was an area in which he had decided that a cowardly retreat was the better part of valor. Sam had watched his Li'l Sis chase Bad Bill out the door once--he with a burning cigar and she with a pail of water. Sam had never pushed the issue with Deb and Jade had made it clear that she was every bit as adamant. Sam's privacy was respected absolutely; when his door was closed, it was as though he wasn't there. Nevertheless he had no doubt two evil Amazons would confront him if he attempted to enjoy a Cuban inside the house.

Breathless giggling outside the door attracted his attention. There was the exception to the rule--his privacy was scrupulously respected by everyone but Mick and Nuala Gaerity, and they were getting ready to come jump him. Jade had done everything short of punishing them for their forays into such forbidden territory until Sam had managed to assure her that it was all right. The crusty Marshal was discovering a soft spot.

Sam closed his brilliant black eyes, rolled onto his side and faced the door. He appeared bonelessly relaxed, but he was playing possum, the children knew it, and knew that he knew they knew and that shit had to stop.

Intense shoving and for a moment Sam was thinking he would have to step in to keep someone from being hurt. There was the breathing characteristic of the angry Irish Girl and Mick backed down. Sam sighed, burrowed into his pillow. What would they do, he wondered. Once Mick had climbed him like a mountain, Nuala had crawled under his blankets and tickled his feet, Mick had stared at him until he had to open his eyes to scare the little beggar off…

A small finger was planted in the dead center of the tip of his nose. It was, presumably, Nuala. She pushed firmly. Sam snapped his eyes open and lunged forward. Shrieking happily, the two little ones tried to scramble backward, but Sam was too fast for them. Soon they were crawling busily on him, chattering at him, fetching his jeans and socks… and in doing so they helped him start another day without missing her more than he had to.

She could only barely follow the rapid-fire Irish and at this hour of the morning it was the last thing she even wanted to try to do. She knew there would be no more rest for her--she had to go rescue Sam from the twins--but there was no reason to listen to this blargle when there was a perfectly understandable broadcast.

Every day it was the same thing. Turn down the unholy Radio Telefis Eireann. No. Put it on the English band. No. Ryan could be more obstinate than Nuala when he chose to.

She rolled out of bed and padded into the bathroom, where Ryan had already showered and was now shaving. The third 'S' of the trio, the shit, he would attend to when he was alone. He could be surprisingly considerate that way, once he discovered that the gas cloud his high protein diet left could melt flesh.

She laid her hands lightly on his waist as she slipped behind him, to let him know she was there. He smiled into the mirror, continued scraping the lather from his cheeks.

Jade looked up at Ryan from her spot on the throne.

Jade was referring to the food, and the bitter battle over what they would eat while Deb and Bill had been gone early in the summer.

Ryan used a wet cloth to wipe the remaining soap from his face. a flannel went on over his A-shirt and he considered himself in the mirror. He dragged a comb through his hair checked his teeth once, and pronounced himself ready to face the day.

I trudged into the bathroom, head down. I would continue to wander blindly until I had landed someplace that suited me--in the shower, up against Bill's back, someplace.

Bill was shaving, easy motions of the straight razor down the flat planes of his cheeks.

I cranked on the hot water, thankful for the state of the art system that ran almost constantly during these peak times.

I handed over the requested item.

Bill regarded me levelly.

I adjusted the water temperature and stepped under the spray. Against its better judgment, my body began to wake up to the day, and by the time my hair was washed and my teeth were brushed--using Bill's brush--I felt pretty ready to get on with things.

By the time I got downstairs--ahead of Bill, who was dragging his feet over some shit or another--most of the rest of the household was there. Jade was minding a pot of oatmeal and responding to Ryan's demands for it, mostly by telling him to shut his fecking gob, he would get it when it was cooked. Elmore was peeing an orange for Nuala while Sam defended toast and jelly from Mick's acquisitive fingers. Fascinated, I watched as the big hands intercepted the darting little ones with effortless accuracy. Sam was reading the newspaper and he paid absolutely no attention to what was going on.

I dodged animals as I came in. Augustus and Hewey were trolling the floor near the little ones. Woodrow lay with his head on his paws next to the chair Bill wouldn't take the time to sit in. Tank weaved between the legs of the dogs, yowling loudly. Once in a while he would stand on his hind legs, forepaws on Sam's leg, staring at the toast. Brick and Bear took turns leaping on Elmore's knee, while The Woodle was busy trying to get at the oatmeal in Ryan's bowl. Twocat was glaring at the dogs while Norman, who thought he was a dog, was rubbing up against Woodrow's face.

I went to the fridge, stared at its innards with mounting disgust.

Actually, they ate it. Sam's executive midsection and Ryan's small spare tire proved it.

Bill joined up quietly. There was no telltale sound of boots on the stairs to give him away. he wore his usual--at least, recently usual--home attire, a pair of flannel pants, a sweatshirt and a pair of thick athletic socks. he ran the obstacle course of animal bodies and headed for the basement door.

Bill stopped, door open. Brick darted down the stairs. He would stop somewhere midpoint and, since Bill refused to turn on the stairwell light, he would be completely Invisible. Bill would land squarely on him, Brick would yell and then climb Bill's leg. Neither one of them ever seemed to learn.

Nuala stared with eloquent eyes at Ryan.

Ryan ate, tranquil in himself.

Bill was only headed to his home 'office', a little jury rigged corner of the basement that Bill had fixed for himself. He'd thrown up a few sheets of plywood and called them walls, run in some phone lines for the computer, fax and landline telephone. He might have put in a desk, might have settled for a beat up old table, I wasn't sure, and he never encouraged me to try to find out.

He turned to go downstairs. We had all learned, long since, that there was no getting to Ryan when he'd decided not to be got at. Brick howled like one of the damned and Bill started in.

Breakfast was the last time, really the only time during the day, that our goofy family was all together. Sam, now the head of the Minneapolis office, would be leaving. Elmore would begin his workout. By ten he would be ready for a short nap before heading into town to open up the Corner at 12:30. He worked twelve hour days. Ryan and, since it was Jade's night with the twins, I would join him around four, and Bill would roll in later, if at all. Jade was already herding the twins upstairs to get them ready for preschool. I grabbed Ryan's empty bowl, and got busy myself.