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  "I wouldn't know what to do with it..." But Mary held the idea close. She had envisioned herself in some colorful but dingy attic garret, turning the world on fire with her creativity. And in some small way she had, just not as she planned.

  "It'll come to you." Casey assured her with complete belief. "Anyway, I walked around the house with that in mind. The rooms downstairs would be great for setting up studios, offices, or whatever. They're all open with lots of light except for that little room at the end of the hallway. And we could leave the kitchen as it is, make it kind of a central gathering place since that seems to be our tendency anyway." She leaned back and gave the swing another small push. "I could pay you rent or even buy an interest in the house from you." She held her breath. She'd love to have a piece, own even just a small part, of her mother's childhood.

  Mary sat quietly thinking about what she'd just heard. Without saying a lot Casey had exposed some of her deepest heartfelt desires. In doing so she had also given her the opening for what had been simmering in the back of her own mind since she’d bought the house. It wasn't that she hadn't considered the idea before this but she just hadn't worked out how to best approach either Casey or Carrie about it.

  "How about I give you..." she held up her hand stopping the flow of words she could already see coming before she had a chance to begin. "Just let me finish before you say anything. Please." At her cousin's nod she went on. "I give you a third interest in the house." If Casey wondered at the third versus half it didn't show. But it wouldn't take much for her to figure out eventually she wanted to include Carrie in on this too. "And in return you let me be a partner in your video production company." She could tell she still had a bit to go to in convincing her. "I'd love to be part of it Casey and like the online store I don't know much about some of the aspects of it but all the rest of it intrigues me." She smiled before continuing. "And I'm a fairly quick student."

  "Mary..." Casey found herself speechless. A situation she had rarely experienced.

  "Wait, please." Mary asked again then leaned her head back against the top rail of the swing's back. Searched for how to make her cousin understand what she was only beginning to understand herself. "Casey, it's just money. I know that makes me sound pompous and supercilious but I really don't want this to be about money." She sighed heavily wishing she could find the right words to say as easily as she was able to find the ones to write. "So much always seems to come down to money when it has so little to do with it." She closed her eyes, thought about all that money couldn't make right. "Daniel and I have been fortunate. Between my writing and his job we've done well...much more so than we could ever have dreamed of when we started out."

  She had no way of knowing but the expression on her face caught and held Casey's heart. "There is so much money can't buy, Casey," she said softly. "So many of the most important things, the things that really matter, money has no power over." Mary thought of her mother. Thought of how she would have given anything, any amount of money for just a little more time. Money, she had come to learn in the most difficult way possible, couldn't buy time. Could rarely buy the heart's dreams. But she also understood the hardships that could come with the lack of it. "I know you've got your own stash, but let me do this. Let me be part of your dreams and share mine with you." She opened her eyes, glanced down the street. "And maybe between the two of us we can think of something to do with that house." Both understood she meant her newest acquisition which neither of them had yet to walk through. "Now that you've come up with the perfect solution for the Marshall Street house."

  Casey felt all her arguments fall to the wayside. If Mary's words hadn't done it, the anguished sorrow that had fallen across her face as she spoke would have.

  And if she were completely honest with herself it would give her the funds to build up inventory for her store beyond what they ferreted out of the attic stash that they didn't want. Beyond that it would allow her to feel more comfortable about getting the better video equipment that she was leaning towards. And it would ultimately give her the freedom to do more with what she had. Leaning her head against Mary's she sighed. "Okay."

  "Wonderful." Mary felt so much fall into place where it belonged. Daniel had been right. Things did have a way of working out as they should if you just gave it time. "And I think I will set up a studio." In the attic she decided then and there. She would have a dormer window put in so she could have a good view of her mother's tree. She closed her eyes, let her mind drift for the moment. "I'm not certain what I'll be doing in it, but I'll set one up."

  "Whatever you do, I'll sell it in my store." Casey decided right that moment.

  Mary thought about it, understood it, and wondered if her cousin had long been in the wrong business. She should have been in marketing and public relations. "Whatever..." she agreed pleased that this at least was settled. They sat in a comfortable silence until Casey shifted, remembering her earlier call.

  "I got a phone call from Terry today." Casey leaned back. "Mark's wife," she added just in case Mary had forgotten the name. "She called me just before Pete showed up."

  "Anything interesting on that front?" Mary knew that Jake had put the condo on the market and everything not going directly into storage was being shipped directly to Casey.

  "She was asking about Burlington, what I was doing, all that catch-up stuff." Casey let her mind wander back over the conversation. "I think she might visit sometime."

  "That would be nice."

  "Uh-huh." Casey agreed absently. "I think we, or at least one of us, had some kind of influence on Mark." She closed her eyes as she replayed parts of the conversation over in her head. "I definitely got the impression from her that Mark's been paying more attention to the coverage, or at least looking at it from a different perspective and maybe isn't altogether happy with what he sees."

  "Is that a bad thing?" Mary wondered at the hint of concern she was hearing.

  "Maybe." Casey sighed. You could leave it all behind but that didn't stop you from caring about those you walked away from. "Maybe not." At Mary's quizzical look she tried to explain the conundrum that was her boss...and friend. "Mark's a pragmatic. He knows how things work in the news industry...at least how they're meant to work." She focused on the flowering bush blooming outside the front window of what had been her grandmother's bedroom. "You wouldn't believe the amount of information that comes into the building. Anything, everything, good and bad, finds its way to us...them," she corrected, taking herself out of the equation.

  Mary thought about what she was saying, the implications of it. "I have a little bit of an idea of what you're talking about. I've had friends who worked at small town newspapers. I listened to them more than once vent their frustration about the morass of what's essentially vicious gossip that comes in that people expect them to report in the paper." Mary rolled her eyes, remembering some of the stories she'd heard. "To many it doesn't matter in the least whether it's true or not."

  "Yeah, same thing just on a bigger scale. And if you mix in a huge dose of politics, power, and money you can imagine just how bad it can get. You have to brace yourself against it because some of the stuff you hear is unbelievable."

  "Which would have been hard for you."

  "Very." She could admit that now without shame. Being here, being away from the varying and constantly shifting standards of acceptable had allowed her to see that compassion and sensitivity weren't synonymous to being an emotional female. "Mark, despite his practical nature, can also have a tendency to be very idealistic." Casey thought about the concern she'd heard in Terry's voice despite her effort to be upbeat. "Or at least he used to." And despite her determination otherwise she wondered what was going on in the offices of WNO.

  

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Terry stretched out her shoulders as she slowly walked down the stairs, exhausted from the simple but time consuming task of putting their little hoodlums to bed. They were quick at everything in life except the
nightly process of going to sleep. If the evening went like most others one of either she or Mark would be making the trip up to their room at least once...probably twice to settle things down and turn lights off again.

  She saw her husband lounging out on the balcony that overlooked his favorite golf course they just happen to live on the edge of. With only the briefest of pauses she turned to make a side trip into the kitchen. After a few minutes and armed with two glasses of wine she joined him, handed him his and took a deep sip of her own. "Bad day?"

  "No different than most." Was his automatic response and almost immediately he regretted it. He scrubbed his free hand over his face. "I spent a lot of the day going over old clips." He took a sip of the wine, took a larger gulp before setting it down on the small table next to him. "I've thought about sitting in on some of the meetings I normally don't bother with."

  Terry began to understand where the mood and the frustration were coming from. "I doubt they've changed much since you did."

  "Probably not."

  "Mark..." she stopped when he held his hand up.

  "It's hard to have to admit to myself that a woman I've admired greatly over the years got it before I did." He scrubbed his face again, this time with both hands. "I regret some of the things I thought and said about her when she took off. I didn't even bother with the why, I was too hung up about filling the hole she left in the schedule."

  "I don't think Casey would..." she stopped again when he cut her off with a look.

  "You and Casey both are far too forgiving." Mark took a breath, a deep breath before allowing himself to speak again. He'd spent the last couple of days looking not just at the business but conducting a glaring self introspection of himself. "It's even harder to admit how wrong I've been, how careless I've become about many things including my reaction over the sudden and unexpected retirement of another top anchor. Because I didn't understand I chose to ignore and looking back I didn't even allow for a discussion about it." He looked straight at his wife, saw the dawning realization as she came to understand he was talking not just about Casey but also about her. "I glossed over it, was pretty damned patronizing for that matter, to the point that we ended up with your rule of not discussing my work. I can still remember your words. You were out of it and didn't want to hear about it." He picked up the wine glass and turned it in his hands. "What you really meant was you didn't want to discuss something where your opinions weren't validated or considered in any reasonable way by your own husband because he was too busy being an ass. Mostly because he couldn't understand why you didn't have a problem leaving your job in the first place." He looked at her again. "Hell, Terry. Leaving to stay home with the kids was just an excuse. You'd probably been looking for a good one for years. I can think of a dozen things you said along the way that I trivialized. I'm surprised you didn't kick my ass out years ago."

  "I'd dearly love to know what all you saw in those clips." She mumbled into her wine never meaning for him to hear. And should have known better.

  "Hell." Ragged frustration rang clear in the single syllable.

  "No. No. No." Terry struggled not to allow the laughter that was bubbling up to escape. She set her own drink down and moved over and without any hesitancy sat down and cuddled up in her husband's lap. "I love you." She put her hands on his face, looked straight into the eyes that were a heartbreaking mix of angry and sad. The combination had always ripped through her heart. "It's enough for me that you understand now." She leaned into him. Heard the noise coming from the bedrooms and decided for this night to let them have at it. "Will you tell me what happened?"

  With a deep sigh Mark wrapped his arms around his wife. "It wasn't any one thing. More like a handful of things, none of which I can do a lot to change." He rested his chin on the top of her head. "A lot of them are petty stuff but as a whole it's a pattern that isn't pretty. But I'm not certain I have the energy or the desire to put in what it would take to bring about the needed changes."

  Terry cuddled in closer. It was rare for them to have talks like this. But she sensed this was a real turning point for him and completely understood how that felt. "Do you remember when Governor Sabo was caught cheating on his wife?"

  "Which time?"

  She poked him in the ribs. "Pay attention. Do you remember how after it all blew up that last time and he resigned from office how even then reporters, including me, were following him around wanting to know what he was going to do next."

  "What of it?"

  "You were still anchoring at the time." Terry thought back to the moment where she'd had her own personal epiphany. "I don't remember who it was but someone made the comment on air that it would be interesting to know what his plans were. Where he was going from there." She turned her head the little bit it took to look into those eyes that still reflected his deep personal disappointment in himself. She wanted desperately to change that. "I was watching from my office, waiting for you to get done so we could go home. I don't even think you thought about what you were saying, it was just so you." She watched him squint, trying to remember that specific moment. "You very casually stated that since the Governor was no longer in public office that his life should be his own as it should be for all private citizens which was essentially what the man had become at that point. Stripped of all power and everything else he'd once had, you took the time to casually explain to her and the American people that the privacy this man had given up while in public office was now his to reclaim."

  "I remember." And he did...very vaguely. And cautiously wondered where this was going.

  "And you're trying to figure out where I'm going with this, right?" Terry laughed. She could read him just as easily as she did the kids. At that moment he no longer looked sad but disgruntled. She was trying to make a point and he was hopelessly lost.

  "Mark." She waited for him to turn to her. "I was working on a follow up. Worse, I'd been among the masses following the man around, dodging his every footstep, trying to figure out what his plans were. I'd lost total perspective of when the story was over until I heard you that night." She leaned into him again. "You made me think of what I was doing and why. That's in part what led to my decision to stay home after we had that little monster upstairs who even as we speak is dutifully jumping on his bed."

  "You know you adore the little guy."

  "Just like I adore his Daddy."

  "Enough to make a change?"

  Terry turned her head enough from where it was resting on his shoulder and looked at him. Saw the seriousness. Heard the caution. Knew this was indeed big. "I love you enough for anything." She paused. "What kind of change?"

  "I haven't worked that part of it out yet."

  "Let me know when you do." Terry cuddled in closer, grateful for the moment together despite the noise coming from upstairs.

  

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Mary pulled her robe on as she rushed from her room. The pounding on the front door had sent her shooting out of bed in a panic. It sounded as if someone was throwing themselves against it. Casey hadn't bothered with a robe, instead rushing out from the back bedroom with nothing on but a long tee shirt on that came down past her knees proclaiming loudly across the front, "Grumpy." Despite the sounds that continued to reverberate through the house as if someone was being hunt down like dogs, Mary took the time to look through her peephole. What she saw had her looking twice though she knew there was no mistaking that face. "Good Lord," she breathed softly under her breath.

  Before Casey could even begin to ask what the deal was the door was swung open so she could see for herself. Mary closed her eyes at the epitaph that passed through her cousin's less cautious lips hoping like the devil the woman who now stood before them like arriving royalty hadn't heard it.

  "I am here." Charlotte Ludwig McMuerty walked past them into the front room. She stood silently as she gazed around the small living areas, looked back to the daybed against the back wall. She never wou
ld have believed she'd ever again stand in what had been the home for so many years of the woman for whom she'd been named.

  It was only when they looked away from their aunt's painfully pensive expression that both Casey and Mary realized she hadn't arrived alone.

  "Mallie." Mary drew her in, enveloped the teenager in a strong hug. "What on earth is going on?" she asked her. Set her aside from her to ask, "What are you doing here?"

  "How did you get dragged into this?" Casey was more blunt, noticing how tired their cousin Jack's oldest daughter looked. She also noticed the quick ducking of her head at the question. "Do your Mom and Dad know where you are?" Jack was one of Aunt Charlie's sons.

  "In a way," Mallie evaded carefully.

  "In what way specifically?" Casey might not have children but she had more nieces and nephews than anyone could count and was an expert to all their tricks and evasions.

  "I'm visiting her." Mallie tried, nodding toward her grandmother and sticking as close to the truth as possible. She knew her parents weren't the only ones who were sticklers about it.

  Mary pushed Casey to the side, more concerned about how exhausted Mallie appeared than the explicit details of how she'd gotten there. Even so she tried to keep half an eye on her aunt who was slowly moving through the living and dining room, looking at windows and not seeming to even notice all the stuff she and Casey had laid out on the tables from the various trunks they'd dragged down from the attic. She gently led Mallie towards the kitchen thinking to brew her some tea, feed her something, try to find out what got her here in the middle of the night before she stuffed her on the couch for the night. Before she got more than two steps, the young woman suddenly cut loose as if the pressures of the preceding hours had just become too much to hold in any longer.

  "What was I suppose to do?" She splayed her arms out, hands palm up, almost inadvertently hitting both Mary and Casey in the process. She'd just spent fourteen hours straight in the car with a woman she loved dearly and needed desperately to dump on someone else. "She called and told me she needed help. That she was coming up here one way or another. She said she would drive but she didn't think her car would make it and wanted to borrow mine. Like that was ever going to happen. Then she offered me a hundred for gas if I would bring her and like that was really going to cover the cost of gas. Please." She could hear her voice begin to squeak, knew she was beginning to sound like a panicked rabbit but simply didn't care.