Win drew in a deep breath of cool morning air as he stepped out the back door of Ten Acres and began the short walk to the old barn, which they were using as a garage. Above his head, the first few leaves had begun to turn yellow. Soon, they would be joined by all those shades of red, orange and brown that heralded the coming winter. After the heat of the summer months, the cooling weather made a pleasant change.

He looked back at the house. With its fresh coat of paint, its newly-completed repairs and the work that Jim had put into the garden, it was beginning to resemble its former self. Diana’s design for the new front stairs gave the house a fresh look, in Win’s opinion. And while the interior was still not what it was, it was at least liveable in the medium-term.

Just as well, he considered, as he climbed into the old pickup and set off for work. Now that classes have started, I doubt that Jim will put much time into it. He considered, with gratefulness, the circumstance that Trixie’s older brother had handed down his car to her, and that she had happily offered to drive Jim to and from college. It had been a long time since he’d felt confident behind the wheel, but since the fitting of his new prosthetic leg, he almost felt like his old self. For the first time in years he was glad that he still had a driver’s licence. The sense of independence felt good.

He bumped the pickup down the rutted driveway and onto Glen Road, his thoughts turning away from Jim and toward work. He had settled in quite well at his job and he enjoyed the company of some of his co-workers, too. Over the last few weeks, he had settled into a routine of lunch each day with his colleague, Caroline. He found himself looking forward to it.

Although he wouldn’t admit it aloud, he also felt an attraction to her. No doubt she didn’t feel the same, but it also felt good to spend time with a woman. It made him wonder…

“No. Don’t think about that,” he told himself, aloud. “That’s not going to happen.”

But it would be nice… a little voice whispered.

Win resolutely pushed the thought away. Such things were not for him. Not any more.

“Bad day?” Win asked his son, as they met in the kitchen that evening.

“What? Why do you say that?” Jim asked, his brows drawing together in a scowl.

Win shrugged. “Just a hunch.”

His son let out a noisy sigh. “Not so much a bad day, as one where lots of little things don’t quite go right.”

“How about if I cook, then?” he offered. “You can stay and help, if you like, or maybe just go and take a walk, or something.”

“I’ll stay and help,” Jim decided.

Win handed him a couple of potatoes and a peeler while he himself began slicing a tomato. They worked in companionable silence for a minute or two.

“I annoyed three different girls today, on three separate occasions,” Jim admitted, at last. “And one of them, I have no idea what I did.”

Win nodded and started on a cucumber. “That happens, sometimes. Is it likely to have any long-term effects?”

Jim shrugged. “That girl? Probably not. I don’t mind if she never talks to me again. And I apologised to the other two. I just wish I could understand, or that someone could explain for me, why it is that girls do that.”

Win snorted. “I hope you’re not suggesting me as an authority on angry girls.”

“I thought, since you had trouble with Mom…” He trailed off, in the face of his father’s sudden anger.

“You keep saying that, but you don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Jim cast him a puzzled look. “Are you trying to tell me that everything was fine? Because I can’t believe that. I knew there was a problem.”

“Yes, but it’s not what you think it was. I was the one who was angry with her,” Win admitted. “And not just a little bit. I was furiously angry. And I think she knew it, too. Which makes it even worse.”

“But why, Dad?” Jim asked. “I don’t understand.”

His father sighed and looked away. “She could have survived her illness. The doctors expected her to survive it. She just… didn’t want to. She chose to give up and die. And I was so angry with her for that decision.”

Jim’s brow creased as he digested this piece of information. After a moment he asked, “So you’re saying that Mom died because she didn’t feel like living any more? Does that even work?”

“She died because she refused treatment. She died because she made choices which made her condition worse. She died because she thought it was too hard to fight, to strive, to make even the tiniest effort to keep the illness at bay. She chose death.”

“And that made you angry.”

“I was struggling with my own health. I was barely putting food on the table.” He shook his head. “If she had done what the doctor told her… changed her diet… taken the medicine… she could have regained her health and we’d have gotten back on solid ground. As it was… well, you know what happened.”

Jim nodded, looking away.

“And I didn’t want her to leave me. Because that’s what it amounted to. She chose to leave me; to leave us. You were barely into your teens and she wouldn’t lift a finger to stay with you.”

For a long moment, his son did not reply. At last he asked, “Did she have a different perspective on this? One that you couldn’t see, because you were so angry?”

Win felt a blush spread across his face. “It didn’t make sense.”

“What didn’t make sense? What did she think?”

“She wanted me to get healthy first and worry about herself later, when we could do it without increasing our debts. But how could I?” he burst out. “How could I get well, when she was fading away in front of my eyes; when I could barely work enough to support us and she couldn’t do anything to help? When I had to shoulder all of the responsibilities for the household – the cooking and cleaning, helping with your homework, bringing in an income, making all of the decisions – all alone?”

“You should have made me pull my weight,” Jim answered, looking uneasy. “I could have helped a lot more than I did.”

Win shook his head. “You helped far more than someone your age usually does. And you were far less demanding than the ordinary teenager, too, I think.”

“I was worried,” Jim admitted. “Worried about what was going to happen to us, and about your health and Mom’s. And I could see that you were tired and stressed and I didn’t want to add to that.”

“I was glad that you didn’t,” Win told him, “but it worried me, too. You had to grow up too fast.”

Jim shrugged. “I don’t suppose it matters.”

“But you missed out on things. And you’ve delayed your life plans because of my needs. As a parent, I don’t feel good about that.”

For a long moment, Jim did not answer. “I think there are some advantages to waiting,” he decided, at last. “I don’t mean I wasn’t disappointed, because I was. But I’ve come to see that the choices I would have made two years ago weren’t the right ones.”

Win wondered whether the choices being referred to were personal ones, or career-related. Before he had formulated a question to help find out, Jim continued.

“I guess I would have gotten on the right track eventually. But I think it’s been better, my taking this time to think through what sort of career I want to pursue and not just blindly seize on the first idea that comes to me.”

“I suppose it doesn’t hurt that you’ll get to go to college with Trixie,” Win added, while wondering if he was pushing his son too far.

Jim did not take offence, but instead smiled. “It’s an added perk.” He subtly changed the subject. “And it’s great living here, too. I like being able to spend so much time in nature, because it’s practically on my doorstep. It’s great to be able to ride and swim and just walk in the shade of the trees.”

“And you have Trixie as a companion in all your outdoor pursuits,” Win added, unable to let go of the previous topic.

“Trixie’s good at all of those sorts of things,” Jim noted, with admiration. “She’s not afraid of getting dirty and she knows all about all kinds of outdoor activities.”

“That’s the sort of thing you have to expect from a girl with two brothers,” he noted.

“Actually, she has three brothers,” Jim corrected. “There’s another one, older than Mart, that I haven’t met. He’s studying to be a doctor, apparently, and doesn’t come home very often.”

“I didn’t realise,” Win answered.

It struck him, suddenly, that there were a lot of things he didn’t know about Trixie. He made a mental note to start finding out.

Win met Caroline for lunch, as usual, and they had just settled down to eat and talk when another worker entered the lunch area. He shot a glare at them before setting about preparing a rather pungent tuna salad. Behind his back, Win and Caroline shared a glance and pretended not to notice.

“You two always seem to be together at lunch,” the man grumbled, turning on them suddenly. “It’s not like there’s no one else to talk to.”

Neither of them answered before he stalked away, taking his smelly lunch with him back to his desk.

“I pity the people sitting next to him,” Win commented, in a lowered voice. “I wouldn’t choose to eat something like that here, let alone at my desk.”

But Caroline did not seem to hear him.

“I didn’t mean to monopolise you.” She shook her head. “Wait. That’s not exactly what I meant. It’s more that you shouldn’t feel obliged to entertain me every single day, if you don’t want to.”

“I enjoy our lunches,” he assured her. “The conversation is always interesting. But the same thing goes the other way. You don’t need to entertain me, either.”

“I enjoy our lunches, too.” She lowered her voice. “I probably shouldn’t admit this, but before you started working here, I used to lunch at my desk, to avoid some of the other people who sit in here.” In a whisper, she added, “Especially the guy with the tuna.”

“He does seem a little lacking in social skills,” Win noted. “But I’m not sure I’m one to talk.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your social skills,” she told him. “In fact, there’s something I’d been meaning to ask you. Would you like to come out to dinner with me some time? I know a little place that serves real, old-fashioned Italian food.”

Win was surprised to find that he wanted to go. “That sounds great,” he told her. “Shall we make a date?”

Caroline nodded. “Friday?” she suggested. “Or, would Saturday be better?”

“Friday,” Win decided. “I’ll look forward to it.”

And he found that his words were more true than he had intended. All through the rest of the work day, his mind kept returning to the topic of their date. I have a date, he reminded himself through the afternoon. I have a date with Caroline on Friday. The concept was so foreign to him that he had to keep reminding himself it was actually true.

But then, was it really a date, or just a meeting between two people? And which of those did he want it to be? He didn’t know.

And I still have to tell Jim, he remembered, with a jolt. I’m not sure this is such a good idea.

He shook his head and put the matter out of his mind. He was an adult and he didn’t need to justify himself to Jim.

When they ate dinner together that night, Win made sure to drop his plans for Friday as casually as possible. The last thing he wanted was to make a big deal of it.

“You’ll be on your own on Friday evening,” he mentioned. “A colleague and I are going to grab a bite to eat.”

Jim’s eyebrows rose. “The woman I’ve seen you talking with?”

With supreme effort, Win kept his annoyance off his face. How dare Jim be so perceptive?

“Actually, yes,” he answered. “But it’s no big deal.”

Jim’s expression showed his scepticism, but he did not comment, instead asking about where they were going.

“A place that Caroline knows,” his father answered. “I don’t know much about it, but the way she describes it, it sounds nice.”

To his relief, Jim seemed to lose interest at that point and the conversation turned to other things.

The rest of the week flew by and, before he had time to worry about it, Friday night arrived. He met Caroline at the restaurant, both of them arriving at nearly the same time.

“Oh, good. You found it,” she greeted him, and they began to walk inside together. “I wasn’t sure my directions were going to be good enough.”

“I didn’t have any trouble at all,” he answered, then stopped just inside the door to inhale the aroma of the place. “Mmm, it smells good here.”

She nodded and asked for the table she had booked. They were led to a table in an alcove and left to peruse the menus.

“I don’t often eat in restaurants,” Win admitted. “In fact, I haven’t done this since before we moved to Sleepyside.”

He omitted mentioning just how long before the move it had been. Restaurants were not in the budget during his illness and for the first part of the recovery.

“I don’t like eating in them alone,” she answered, “so I haven’t for a while, either.”

They spent a few minutes talking about what they wanted to eat, then after ordering settled back to talk. The conversation flowed easily, across many topics of mutual interest, and carried them through the wait for their food, its arrival and consumption.

The meal ended, but the conversation continued. The restaurant began to empty and a waiter hovered in the background, apparently to clear their table.

At length, Win asked, “Do you want to go on somewhere else?”

But Caroline shook her head. “I’m afraid I’m a bit of an early bird and the day is catching up on me. It’s probably time I took myself home. I hope that’s okay.”

He smiled. “I’m rather an early bird, myself.”

They settled the bill, then walked outside together in contented silence.

“I had a good time this evening,” he told her. “Thank you for asking me.”

She smiled. “I had a good time, too. I’m glad we did this.”

Win wondered, for an instant, whether she expected him to kiss her, but they were in the middle of a parking lot and the time did not feel right.

“Good night,” he murmured. “See you Monday.”

She took his hand and squeezed it. “Yes. Good night. And thanks again.”

A moment later, she got into her car and turned on the engine. Win did the same and headed for home.

That was an interesting evening, Win reflected, on arriving home after their date. I’m not sure how I feel about it.

He paused in the act of applying toothpaste to his toothbrush and stared at his own face in the mirror. What did Caroline see in him, he wondered. The face that stared back at him looked every bit of his forty years of age and perhaps a bit more. He had never considered himself to be particularly handsome and the stresses of the last decade had not helped at all. To his own eyes, he looked tired and old.

But had Caroline, too, aged beyond her years? She was nine years younger than him, they had discovered, on comparing birth dates. An unhappy marriage lay behind her, ending in divorce about two years ago. When she mentioned it, Win had glimpsed deep hurts, left unspoken. Perhaps the gap between them was not so big after all.

Turning away from the mirror, he got on with what he was supposed to be doing, but his thoughts remained on his self-doubts.

I didn’t mean to get into this situation, he reminded himself. I didn’t seek this out; it found me.

Did that make things any better? Did it make them worse? The thoughts continued to churn, a tug-of-war between his desire for companionship and the part of him that still missed Katie. He liked Caroline. He had committed himself to Katie. He could start something new. He was still holding on to the thing he had lost. Could he start something new?

It’s been almost seven years. The thought popped into his head. Most people would have moved on by now.

He knew, however, that men in his family often did not. His uncle was not the only one who had stubbornly nursed a broken heart.

The toothbrush came to a sudden halt. Had he nursed a broken heart? Would it be more accurate to say that the past seven years had been more characterised by weariness than grief? Win shook his head. He had grieved for Katie and he still grieved for her. A part of him would always miss her. But he was not like his uncle. There could be another woman for him.

He finished cleaning his teeth.

“I’ll just see how it goes,” he whispered to his reflection. “No pressure.”

No pressure? a little voice in his head taunted. You’re kidding, aren’t you? There’s no way that you can just sit back and let things develop.

“No pressure,” he repeated to himself, aloud. “Don’t over-think this.”

But he knew that was easier said than done.

“You were in late last night, Dad,” Jim noted mildly at breakfast the following morning. “Did you have a good time?”

For a moment, Win wondered how his son had ever put up with those sorts of questions the morning after a first date. Heard from the other side, it seemed an unbearable intrusion, despite the minimal interest that Jim was actually showing.

“It’s a very nice restaurant,” he replied vaguely. “Caroline is an interesting woman. We were talking.”

For a long moment, his son stared at him in confusion. “I wasn’t suggesting anything else.” He shook his head, apparently disparaging the strange ways of fathers. “I was actually more interested in the place you went. The food was good?”

“Wonderful,” Win agreed with a smile. “Reasonably priced, too.” He knew better than anyone the tightness of their budget and that the cost would be a deciding factor for any food choice his son made, no matter how important the occasion.

“I might have to check it out.”

Win nodded absently, but did not comment further. To his relief, Jim began talking about something else.

A few minutes later, the kitchen door opened and Trixie entered.

“Do you like crabapple jelly?” she asked, barely having paused for a greeting. She plonked a couple of jars down on the kitchen table. “It’s been such bumper crops of everything this year that Moms doesn’t know what to do with all the jellies and preserves she’s made.”

“Never tried it,” Jim admitted, picking up one of the jars and peering at it.

Win smiled at the reminiscences this brought. “Tell your mother thank you,” he told the girl. “I haven’t had crabapple jelly in years and years. I think it was your grandmother who made it, back then. Your father’s mother, that would be. They used to live in your house when I stayed here and Aunt Nell would always have some of Mrs. Belden’s preserves in the pantry. I always enjoyed them.”

“Great,” Trixie enthused. “I’ll tell Moms and she’ll probably send you some more.” Turning to his son, she added, “I’ve only got a minute, but before I go, I had an idea about the barn. Come and take a look?”

Win bid her goodbye and let the two go off together. I like that girl’s spirit, he thought, as he fixed himself a cup of coffee. She’s so full of life. With a sigh, he remember his Katie and the way that she had given up on living. In hindsight, he could see that she had never had a strong will to live. She had come near to death one previous time, while having Jim. Even at the distance of twenty years, and nearly seven years after her death, Win shuddered to remember that time.

He stared into his cup, lost in the memories. Vividly, he recalled holding his tiny son and looking up to smile at Katie, but seeing her slip into unconsciousness. His urgent summons of the nurse and the subsequent frantic activity were less clear in his mind, but he felt anew the emotion that had almost overwhelmed him. It had been a close call, but Katie had pulled through. The experience had terrified Win.

Shaking his head to clear it, he took a sip of coffee and tried to think of happier things. The past could stay in the past today. He didn’t have the energy to be reliving it now.

On the Monday after their date, Caroline stopped by his desk and suggested that they lunch together away from the office that day.

“Sure,” he replied, noting with a sharp inner pang that she didn’t quite meet his eyes. “What time, and where will we meet?”

They settled the details and she left to her own work. He set his mind to his own job, telling himself firmly not to speculate on why she had made the request.

At lunchtime, they followed the plan they had made.

“We really need to talk,” Caroline told him, as soon as they were seated. “I mean, I may be completely misunderstanding what’s going on here, but there are one or two things you need to know about me.”

Win’s brow creased in confusion. “I don’t understand. Have I offended you in some way?”

She shook her head. “Nothing like that.” Taking a shaky breath, she continued. “I’ve been hurt by men before and maybe I’m too cautious because of that, but I don’t want to put myself into a situation where I’m vulnerable.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he told her, softly. “If it’s what you want, I can just eat by myself.”

Caroline put her head down in her hands and muttered, “I’m doing this all wrong. That’s not what I meant at all.”

Leaning back to give her more space, Win suggested, “How about you tell me bluntly what it is that you want. I promise not to be offended.”

Casting a hopeful glance at him, apparently to see if he meant what he said, she began to speak in a rush. “Maybe I’m reading more into this than is really there, but I think there’s an attraction between us and, if there is, I need you to know the requirements I have in a relationship.” She stopped, turning red in the face. Whether it was with embarrassment or anger, Win could not tell. “I never told you why I got a divorce. Before we got married, I made it clear to my ex-husband that I wanted children and he said that was fine. What he didn’t tell me was that he’d previously had a vasectomy – and had no intention of trying to get it reversed.”

Outrage on her behalf crossed Win’s face. “That’s terrible.”

“So, now I feel like I’m running out of time,” she continued. “I don’t want to enter into a relationship that doesn’t have the potential of marriage and children.”

Win nodded, slowly. “I understand,” he told her. “May I be honest with you? My wife almost died when our son was born and we chose not to have another child. Since she died, it’s never crossed my mind that I might have one with someone else. I need some time to think about this.”

“I just knew I was speaking too soon,” she replied, her head sinking once more.

“No,” he contradicted solemnly. “You did the right thing. I’m glad we had this conversation now, before either of us invested too much to think clearly.”

Memories of the conversation with Caroline nagged at Win for the rest of the work day, popping into his mind whenever it did not have anything else to occupy it. He ruthlessly pushed them down and tried to concentrate on his job. During his ride home, those same thoughts threatened to distract his attention from more pressing matters. But once he reached Ten Acres – thankfully empty, for the moment – he allowed them to come back into focus.

Alone in his room, Win drew out his box of treasures, lifted the lid and examined each one in turn. At the top of the pile was the framed wedding photograph of himself and Katie, which he had never quite been able to look at since her death. Her face held such a fragile, haunting beauty. While, on the surface, she looked happy, Win knew her well enough to recognise the sadness in her eyes that time never erased.

Setting it aside, he picked up Jim’s baby album and smiled at the pictures on the first page. Beneath it, he found the little pair of blue bootees that Katie had kept and cherished and an envelope holding a lock of reddish hair. A few packets of photographs he put aside unopened. Down near the bottom, he found what he sought: a yellowed envelope, addressed in a spidery hand.

Delicately, Win extracted the single sheet and unfolded it. His uncle had been a man of few words, and this letter followed the rule of a lifetime, but in its few sentences there was a depth of feeling that had escaped Win when he first received it. Years later, he had come to understand what it truly meant, but that had been too late. With sadness, he scanned down the familiar missive:

Win,

Your aunt and I congratulate you on the birth of your son. Our best wishes to your family.

I was pleased to hear that he has been named for me. Your aunt has chosen the enclosed gift for the boy. When we’re both gone, he will receive another as we have decided to name him as our heir. We hope that he will carry on the name of Frayne in the best traditions of our family.

Your uncle,

James.

At the time he received it, Win had been so caught up in Katie’s ill-health that he had been offended by the seemingly-innocent little note. It had contributed to his decision to stay away from his uncle and aunt – a decision which he deeply regretted later, after his aunt’s death.

With the benefit of hindsight, Win could see the hidden meanings and emotions in those few words. He recalled the grief that he had once seen in both his aunt’s and his uncle’s faces at their own childlessness; he reasoned that they both had probably known at least one woman who had died in childbirth; he saw, with devastating clarity, his uncle’s desire to bury the hatchet and his own sudden reluctance to do the same. What had seemed at the time cold and uncaring actually held genuine warmth.

Just as he had expected, looking over the letter brought back all of the emotional turmoil of that time: the worry of Katie’s near-death, the disappointment at the change in their plans for a sibling for Jim, the cold fear which made him keep to that decision for the rest of his wife’s life. Feeling those things anew, but with the benefit of the years which had passed, he examined them to see whether they still applied to his life.

Am I still afraid to lose a loved-one? he asked himself, admitting that his answer was ‘yes’. Would it be such a risk with someone else? Now, as opposed to twenty years ago? Would the benefits outweigh the risk?

There did not seem to be clear answers to some of those questions. He contemplated how his life might have been different, had he made some different decisions, but that made the matter even less clear.

“What are you doing, Dad?” Jim’s voice from the doorway intruded on his private musings, making him jump.

“Nothing,” he quickly replied. “Just looking at some old keepsakes; remembering, thinking.”

Jim nodded, slowly. “Any particular reason why?”

Win cursed under his breath. Why does he always have to notice? he wondered, not for the first time. Can’t I have any privacy at all? Aloud, he said, “Someone asked me a question today and it got me thinking. It’s nothing, really.”

“Your girlfriend?” Jim prompted, not seeming to understand the dismissal in his previous answer.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” His tone held a clear warning, now – which Jim continued to ignore.

He settled next to his father and began to look through a packet of photographs. “Maybe you should.” Pulling out a picture of Katie, he smiled sadly and returned it to the pile. “There’s no real reason why you shouldn’t.”

Seeing that his son was not about to be put off easily, Win decided to be brutally honest. “It’s been years since I was in a position to even think about a relationship. I didn’t think there’d ever be anyone but your mother.”

“But things are different, now. So, why isn’t the woman you’re seeing your girlfriend?”

Sighing, Win decided to throw the dilemma at his son, in the hope that it would make him back off. “Because she wants someone she can marry and have children with.”

To his disappointment, Jim did not think this anything out of the ordinary. “Is that a problem?”

“What do you mean, ‘Is that a problem?’” Win demanded. “Of course it’s a problem. I didn’t think I’d ever be in this situation. I don’t know what I should do. I don’t know whether I even want to consider it!”

Jim’s expression became thoughtful, and he gazed around them at the run-down old house. “It’d be lonely here without you,” he mused, “but I’m sure that Trixie would come and keep me company – her friends, too. Maybe it would help me focus on getting this place into better condition.” He nodded, once. “I don’t see any problem, Dad. I don’t mind about step-relatives. I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t remarry and have other children, if you want to.”

“You don’t need to arrange my life for me, Jim.” Anger was building inside Win, which he struggled to keep under control. “I’m quite capable of doing that myself – if you would only give me the space to think.”

“Fine,” Jim replied, rising and backing away. “If you don’t want my opinions, just say so.”

The anger drained away as fast as it had arisen. “Do you really mean that, Jim? About not minding step-relatives?”

“Of course, I mean it. Why should I mind?”

Uneasy thoughts crowded in Win’s mind. He tried to imagine what it would be like if he did start another family. “But what if these potential children are a similar age to your kids,” he asked. “You might decide to marry and have children sometime soon.”

Jim gave a short laugh. “You might have had a son at about my age, but I have no intention of following your example.”

Finally, Win thought, a chance to make him drop this whole uncomfortable subject. “You might have an accident,” he suggested mildly. “With all that visiting that Trixie would be doing, with no one around to interrupt, you never know what might happen.”

“Dad,” Jim warned, frowning. He shook his head. “I need to go into town and pick up a few things. Do you want anything?”

“No, but thanks for asking.”

As Jim nodded and left, Win took one last look at the letter and then returned it to the envelope. The conversation had solidified his thoughts far more than the deep dive into his past had. He knew roughly what he wanted to say, now. He just hoped that the words would come out right when the time came.

He met Caroline for lunch the next day and arranged matters so that they could talk privately. Instead of eating in the staff lunch room, they took Caroline’s car to a diner some little distance away, where they were unlikely to meet anyone they knew. They chose a table that afforded them the maximum available privacy and made their orders.

Win decided to come straight to the point, and dove right in.

“About us… I’ve been thinking about what you said,” he told her, noting the look of alarm that arose in her eyes, “and I have no objection to the conditions you mentioned – although, I’d suggest you meet my son before you start making any judgements on the sort of father I am.”

Immediately, her face relaxed into a smile. “I’d love to meet him,” she replied. “Do you think that would be a good idea?”

“He’s curious to meet you,” Win noted, dryly. For a moment, he considered the situation. “Why don’t you come back to the house one evening and stay for dinner. It’s not the Taj Mahal, but I think we’ll be able to make you comfortable.”

“That would be lovely,” Caroline replied, her voice warm and somehow sunny.

“Let me just run it past Jim and we’ll see if we can settle on a date tomorrow,” he decided.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Her smile did strange things to Win’s insides, but he returned it nonetheless. Now, he just needed to clear things up with Jim.

“I’ve invited Caroline around for dinner sometime,” Win mentioned as he and Jim shared their evening meal that night. “She wanted to meet you and I was wondering which night would suit you.”

Jim gave a casual shrug. “Any night you like,” he answered. “I don’t have any particular plans at the moment.” A moment later, his face creased into a look bordering on dismay. “Do you need me to clean up the house beforehand?”

Win glanced around them at the dingy old kitchen. It had been deemed too expensive to fix up straight away, but had not responded well to their attempts to make it more presentable. “It would be nice if we could eat somewhere a little better than this. I almost wish we had a dining room table.”

The table and chairs from the dining room were currently split between the attic and the barn, after they discovered that the table legs were no longer properly attached. Jim had a vague intention of restoring them sometime, but had gotten no further than removing them from being in the way.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Jim offered, with a smile. Win thought his son was indecently amused by the situation. “Maybe the Wheelers can rustle one up for us in the next day or two, or the Beldens might have something we can borrow.”

“Don’t go to too much trouble,” Win told him. “We’ll cope, whatever happens.”

The next day when Win came home from work, it was to find that a small dining room table and four chairs had appeared in one of the empty rooms at the front of the house. Further, the tall windows had been covered with curtains and a picture was hanging on one of the walls. Win recognised it as having once hung in an upstairs guest room. He was glad that it was not any of the other pictures he remembered, as he found most of them detestable.

“Honey chose that,” Jim told him, entering the room behind him. “She didn’t seem too impressed with any of the other artwork she found in the house and I can’t say I blame her.”

“Where did the rest of it come from?” Win asked, gesturing to the table, chairs and curtains.

“The furniture’s from a second-hand store in Croton-on-Hudson. The curtains came from Honey’s place – they belong to the latest wave of things being replaced up at her house. She apparently altered them herself so that they’d fit better.”

“She didn’t have to do that.”

Jim shrugged. “She says she likes to sew. And I didn’t know until after she’d done it.”

“Well, they look great, so you can send her my thanks, if I don’t see her first.” He turned and glanced around the room, which in his mind should be called the living room. “Maybe, sometime, we should get a sofa. Even with the table, there’s still space over there.”

“I thought you told me not to get too much stuff,” Jim answered, with a light of teasing in his voice. “Are you saying it’s okay for us, and for my friends, to have to sit on old kitchen chairs, but now that you’ve got a friend to bring over, we need proper furniture?”

For a moment, Win wondered how to respond. “Maybe I’m just starting to think about settling in,” he answered, at last. “We weren’t originally going to be here this long. Remember?”

Jim nodded. “I remember. And I’m not sorry that our plans are changing.”

“I’m not, either,” Win assured him. “In fact, I’m really glad.”

“Oh! It’s lovely,” Caroline cried, obviously very much surprised, as Win drove her up to the door. “I had no idea it would be so large.”

“We had no idea it would be as run down as it was when we got here,” Win admitted. “I’m afraid the inside doesn’t quite meet up with the outside, yet. Jim will be working on it for a long time to come, if I’m any judge.”

She considered the house for a long moment. “It does look lovely from here. Was he really planning on selling it, when you first got here? You didn’t want it to stay in the family?”

He shrugged. “My uncle and aunt were kind to me at one time, and I did actually live here for a while, but I never considered this my home. It holds some pretty bad memories, actually. And Jim had no memories of it at all, so it doesn’t mean anything to him. But I think he’s set on keeping it, at least in the medium-term.” Shaking off the thoughts of the past which the conversation had dredged up, he reached for the door. “Why don’t we go inside? Would you like the grand tour?”

“I would love it,” she replied, and they walked together up the front stairs.

Win guided her through the partly-redecorated lower level, leaving out the study which he used as a bedroom, before taking her upstairs.

“My uncle boarded up the stairs a few years before he died,” he explained. “This level hasn’t had as much work done on it, yet, which is partly why we’ve been using downstairs rooms as bedrooms. Jim has only just moved up here and I’m still downstairs.”

“I see,” she answered, peeking into Nell Frayne’s vacant bedroom. “I might be imagining it, but this part of the house feels kind of unhappy.”

Win nodded. “I’m sure that once the rest of the peeling wallpaper is gone and the rooms are restored to what they should be it will feel quite different.”

They reached the end of the corridor and Caroline turned to look back the way they had come. “I suppose, when it was built, this house was considered a mansion. Somehow, I always thought these kinds of houses would be bigger than this.”

“It’s got seven bedrooms,” Win pointed out. “That’s not exactly small. Downstairs, there’s three large rooms, besides the kitchen, laundry, hallway and pantry. Below that, there’s a full basement. And above here is an attic.”

“Oh! I adore attics,” Caroline told him. “Was there anything interesting in there when you first opened it up?”

“Not a thing!” Win laughed at her disappointment. “I don’t know what my uncle did with all the stuff – there was usually a fair amount up there when I visited – but when we first went up there was absolutely nothing up there. In fact, aside from my aunt’s things, just about everything from the upper part of the house was gone. We think he burnt all the papers, but as for the rest, it’s a bit of a mystery.”

“That’s such a shame. I was hoping that you’d let me take a look up there. You never know what sort of treasures you’ll find in an attic.”

“You can look, by all means.” Win guided her towards the narrow staircase leading upwards. “Jim has been stacking all of the items up there that he thinks might be worth restoring. You can see a little of what we were faced with when we got here.”

“Was it terribly dirty?” she asked sympathetically as they ascended.

Win shuddered. “You have no idea. I don’t know what happened to my uncle’s mind after my aunt died, but it was a terrible thing. The part of the house where he’d been living was so filthy I thought we’d never get it clean. It was stacked with newspapers and all sorts of other rubbish. He didn’t seem to have thrown much out since Aunt Nell went and I doubt he cleaned at all. Then, of course, the house stood empty for a few years while he was in the nursing home.”

“He must have loved her very much to be so destroyed by her death,” Caroline observed. She picked her way through the neatly arranged attic, touching a chest of drawers here and the carving on a chair there.

Win wondered for a moment how much he should say on the subject. “He did love her enormously, and they only had each other; they never had children. I think the main trouble, though, was that he felt so guilty about her death. She was bitten by a snake, you see, out in the summerhouse which used to stand up the hill a little way. He tried to drive her to the hospital, but the car broke down on an isolated road and no one came by until it was too late.”

“And he felt guilty for not being able to make the car go?”

“That, and a lot of other things. He felt it was all his fault. He’d had the summerhouse built as a gift for her, he’d been the one to suggest they go up there that evening, she’d been at him for weeks to get some funny noise in the car seen to, he’d chosen the more isolated road over the busier, but slightly longer one.”

“What happened to the summerhouse?”

Win shrugged. “We can’t seem to find it, so we think he must have torn it down at some stage. It might still be there somewhere; I can’t quite remember exactly where it was. Jim and his friends have searched a little, but they haven’t had any luck.” He glanced around the dim attic once more. “Are you finished here? We might go down and see if we can find Jim.”

She nodded and they started down the stairs to the bedroom level. Emerging into the hallway, they could hear voices below, male and female, and Win deduced that his son had arrived with girlfriend in tow.

“It sounds like Jim is back,” he told her, “and that his girlfriend Trixie’s here, too. She lives next door and Jim met her the first day we moved here. They seemed to just click.”

In a short time, introductions were made and the conversation turned to the younger pair’s studies and aspirations.

Win excused himself to the kitchen and got their meal on the table, leaving his son to entertain their guest. It did not take long and soon the four were seated together, continuing their talk over the meal.

Every now and then, Win would let the other three carry the conversation while he sat back and watched them. He liked the way the four of them fitted together. It gave him a warm feeling inside.

Without being asked, Jim cleared the table. He and Trixie went to do the dishes, leaving Win and Caroline to talk.

“I don’t know why you were worried about me meeting Jim,” she said softly. “I like him. In fact, I like both of them. I’d don’t think life around Trixie would ever be dull.”

“She is rather lively,” Win agreed. “She makes me tired, sometimes, just looking at her.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m glad you like Jim.”

“I’m glad I do, too,” she answered. “From the way you’ve talked about him, I was worried that he might be difficult to get along with, or something.”

“He has his moments.”

“I’m not sure I’m believing you, any more. He seems a perfectly reasonable sort of person.”

Win nodded. “Yes, I suppose he is. But we both know how to annoy each other.”

“Like my sister and I,” Caroline noted. “We fought like cats and dogs, growing up, and still do, sometimes. I suppose that’s how families are, usually.”

“I’ve never had a lot of family to fight with.” Win frowned, thinking about his aunt and uncle.

“Tell me.”

He took a moment to gather his thoughts. “My parents were both in their forties when I came along. I was their only child and they’d just been married a year or two. Actually, both sides of my family took their time about settling down and getting married – if they ever did. I never had any cousins on my mother’s side. On my father’s, there was just one, but we were never close. Other than that, there was the uncle and aunt who owned this house and a couple of maiden aunts.”

“Grandparents?” she asked.

Win shook his head. “I never knew any of them. They’d all died before I was born.” He shrugged. “I was kind of an afterthought.”

“So, the cousin… did he live here?”

Again, Win shook his head. “He was their nephew, too. They couldn’t have children of their own and they doted on both Perry and me. Actually, I lived here for a little while. But that was after my parents divorced when I was a teenager and before I had such a bad argument with my uncle that he cut me out of his will.” He grimaced. “With hindsight, I can see that he had a point. At the time, I thought he was hopelessly old-fashioned.”

“I take it they’ve both died, now.”

He nodded. “And their whole generation. Uncle James was the very last survivor, other than Jim and me, out of the whole family.”

“What about your cousin?”

“He died a year before Jim was born.” He shrugged. “A car accident. Which was ironic, considering his parents had died the same way. He and his father both had a passion for fast cars, but neither of them had the sense to slow down to the conditions.”

“I’m sorry,” Caroline murmured.

Win patted her arm in acknowledgement, but said, “I wasn’t close to him, to any of them.” He paused a minute, then took up the tale. “When I married Katie, we struck out on our own. Katie had hardly any family, either. My father had died, by then. My uncle wasn’t talking to me. I didn’t keep in touch with Perry. In fact, the only person I kept in touch with was my mother. And she died when Jim was three.”

“And you never made up with your uncle?”

“We kind of made up,” Win cast a glance around the room, remembering the way it used to be. “Jim is named after him. A peace offering, I guess you could say. And an acknowledgement that Uncle James was a better man than my own Dad. I wanted Uncle James to have a legacy. It didn’t seem fair that he and Aunt Nell, who would have been devoted parents, couldn’t have children and my parents – who pretty much left me to bring up myself – could.”

“If they were as old as you say they were, they probably didn’t expect that they’d be able to, either,” she pointed out.

“Are you suggesting that I was a mistake?” he asked, laughing.

Caroline’s eyes widened. “No! Not at all. That’s not what I meant and I’m very sorry if it came across that way.”

“You don’t need to apologise,” he told her. “I’ve long ago come to the conclusion that at least one of them thought that I was. And they both regretted marrying each other, though they expressed that regret in different ways.”

“That must have been very uncomfortable for you.”

He laughed. “If ever there was an understatement, that was it. Which is why I came to live here instead of with either of them. Not that I was especially welcome at my Dad’s. His new wife didn’t like me.” He shook his head. “The last time I saw her was at his funeral. She did not acknowledge my existence at all.”

“I’m sorry.”

Win shook his head. “I’m not. I never liked her, either. It was easier that way.”

“Still, it’s nice to have family to go back to. I have no idea what I would have done without mine,” she commented. “I’m sorry that you don’t have that.”

He glanced back at the house. “I don’t mind where I’ve landed. And I’ve got Jim.” He thought for a moment about the contrast between his relationship with his father and that with his son. “I’m happy with the way my life is going, right now.”

The End

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