"It was nothing."

"It was *not* nothing, Dad. Not if *everyone* knows about it."

"Connor, I appreciate your concern, but I *am* your father. We shouldn't even be talking about this."

"Then stop doing things like this, Dad. I'm telling you, you're making a real fool out of yourself here."

"Thanks for the advice, Con," Neil said curtly. But Connor could tell that he was more hurt than angry. He wasn't used to having his actions questioned or second-guessed, but his behavior lately was largely inexplicable. Even to him.

For a few moments, there was nothing but utter silence and Neil's suddenly labored breathing. "Maybe I'm the one who needs a good therapist," he whispered to himself.

Connor's dark blue eyes grew bleak. "Maybe you are," he said softly.

***

But therapy wasn't the answer. One session later, Neil went home, thinking about what the therapist told him. "There's nothing wrong with you, Neil. You're not sick. You're lonely. You say you're better off without your wife, and from the description you've given me, I'd have to agree. It's not *her* that you miss. It's adult company. At breakfast. At the dinner table. After work. *In bed*," he said meaningfully.

"Are you trying to say I need to have an affair?"

"No, Neil, if there's anything you don't need right now, it's another relationship."

"Then what?"

"Go out. Meet people. Have fun. Invite someone over. Someone female."

"You want me to just find some poor woman to screw," Neil remembered saying.

The therapist winced at Neil's deliberately crude choice of words. "You're determined to take all the fun out of your life, aren't you, Neil? Your guilt is driving you now. If you don't get a hold of it, you may never be able to regain control."

Leaning forward, the therapist regarded him seriously. "If you want to martyr yourself, Neil, go ahead. But your kids will suffer for it, too. I don't think you want that."

***

"Kady! You're going to be late, sweetheart!" Neil called upstairs.

There was a noticeable pause before his daughter appeared. Though she was still not talking in therapy, Neil had decided that Francesca was right. The therapist was *not* helping Kady. She was, in fact, making her worse. Therefore, he had agreed to take her out of therapy for the time being. She was unnaturally quiet, but she was neither neurotic nor psychotic. He would take his time and find someone Kady liked.

As Kady descended the stairs, Neil looked at her in horror. "Oh, my God, Kady! What did you do, baby?"

He rushed towards her, scooping her up into his arms to hold her close. "Oh, Kady.."

Gone was her long dark brown hair. Hair that was once long enough to sit on. Kady's hair stood out in sharp little tufts all over her head. She had taken a pair of scissors to her hair and shorn all but a velvety fringe.

"Why?' Neil whispered, his voice terrible in its grief.

"I don't want to look like Mommy anymore."

"Oh, honey."

He wondered what he should do. Kady seemed curiously calm about the whole thing while Neil could still feel his insides quivering. Kady was due at school any minute. He couldn't let her go like this. Yet he didn't want to make more out of it than it was.

Swallowing hard, he asked, "Kady, would you let me trim some of the rough edges so you still look like a pretty little girl?"

Kady tilted her head and Neil was again struck by how very beautiful his daughter was, short hair notwithstanding. Hair would grow back. At least she hadn't done anything dangerous.

"Okay.."

***

It only took a few minutes to render the carelessly torn locks more gamine. "There you go. Want to take a look?"

Kady shook her head and announced with the wisdom of a six-year old, "Nope, I know what I look like, Daddy."

For the first time in a long time, Neil smiled. To his amazement, so did Kady. "I'm me now."

"So you are."

***

They held hands all the way to the car. Once they arrived at school, Neil could tell that the little girl was nervous. Still, there was an undeniable aura of excitement about her, too.

He watched her go, secure in the knowledge that Connor would keep an eye out for his younger sister. "Make sure you wait for your brother before you get on the bus to come home, Kady," he reminded her for the fourth time.

"Yes, Daddy," she said politely, but there was a bit of sparkle in her eyes again. Neil stared after her in wonder. Was this what she needed after all? The company of her peers?

He knew enough not to get his hopes up this soon, but he couldn't help but pray that he'd made the right decision in sending her to school.

***

Ariel Dupre Wilding beamed with pride as her daughter Samantha left her office to go to her first grade class. "Oh, Robin, I never thought this day would get here. She's so excited."

Her husband gazed at her fondly. "I knew she would be. She loves school. How could she not when her Mum is such a great teacher? Not to mention principal of this school?" He swooped down to press a kiss to his beloved's lips and she laughed merrily.

"I love you."

"I love you right back," he said, taking advantage of her momentary distraction to sweep her into his arms and deposit her onto the couch.

"Oh, my. Are you going to have your way with me, Robin?"

Indigo Wilding grinned cheekily. "And then some, love."

***

Kady made her way into the classroom with not a little trepidation. Luc was not in this class. Nor was Jago or Kiarra. She was, quite literally, on her own.

And then she met Sam.

"Hi, I'm Sam. Who are you?"

Sam, aka Samantha Wilding, was the only child of Indigo and Ariel Wilding. Ariel was determined that her child would not receive special treatment. So she sent her to class in the same school that she ran as principal, but she warned her teachers not to show her any favoritism.

She was a beautiful little girl. Inheriting her father's coloring, Sam had long, wavy, white-blonde hair that she wore loosely clasped in a leather thong. Her sapphire blue eyes were set in a face that borrowed heavily from her mother's refined features. Like her parents, she was tall and slender. But she gave the appearance of someone much smaller, perhaps because her personality was relatively subdued and self-effacing.

"I'm Kady."

"You want to sit next to me?"

"Sure."

Kady smiled for the second time that day. "You're nice."

"So are you."

"Want to be best friends?"

"Okay."

"Daddy?" Kady peered into the dark living room. The shades were tightly drawn and there was a stale odor as though the house had been shut up all day. Though it was still sunny outside, the inside of the house was as black as night.

Neil's body was slumped in the oversized chair, silent testimony to his deepening depression. His eyes unseeing, he didn't show any sign of having heard his daughter either.

Kady reached out a small hand to gingerly touch her father's knee. "Are you okay, Daddy?"

All at once Neil jumped. "Kady!" His heart pounding in his chest, Neil tried to control his suddenly runaway senses. Anxiety sharpened the dull ache inside to razor points and his head throbbed nauseatingly.

Kady's dark brown eyes, too wise and knowing for a child so young, raked over her father's figure in meticulous assessment. Noting the half-empty glass of liquor next to Neil's hand, Kady studiously ignored it while somehow managing to communicate her dissatisfaction with her father.

"Want to meet my new friend?" she asked.

That was when Neil sat up, abruptly realizing that Kady had brought company home. "S-sure."

Kady frowned, apparently deducing that Neil's lack of enthusiasm was, at least partly, beyond his control. "This is Sam," she announced, indicating the little blonde girl at her side.

Sam smiled politely and curtsied. That took Neil by surprise, enough to replace his sullen look with a smile that was evidently genuine. Kady giggled. "You don't have to bow to my Daddy, silly. He's not a king or something."

Neil felt yet another smile being forced from him and briefly wondered if the pins-and-needles sensation he had in his arms and legs was simply his body coming back to life. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Sam," Neil said, his voice dark and serious, as befit a quasi-royal father.

Sam favored Neil with one of her blindingly bright smiles and he was overcome by the schoolgirl's charm and charisma. "Kady and me are best friends."

"Really? What did you two get up to in school today?"

Sam twirled a long strand of white-blonde hair around her finger and pondered. "Well, we finger-painted."

That was when Neil noticed the smear of blue paint on the end of the little girl's finger. His mind automatically cataloguing what his absent wife's reaction would be, Neil nodded. "Did you have fun?"

Kady interrupted with a gaily voiced, "Yes! I made a-a-a-uni-"

"-corn! Unicorn!" Sam finished for her, clapping her hands.

"You did?" Neil asked. He could feel Kady slowly dropping the barriers she had so carefully erected in the weeks and months after Madeline's departure.

"Yep! An-and Sam made a really truly dragon!"

"Just like in the books Mama reads to me," Sam said.

Expecting Kady to react unpredictably, even violently, to what Sam said, Neil was astonished to see Kady merely nod. "Her Mom buys dragon books, Daddy. Can you buy *me* one with a uni-unicorn in it?"

Kady had never ever asked Neil for *anything*. He didn't know whether to fall to his knees and kiss the ground or bless the beautiful little sprite who had befriended his daughter. "Of." Neil cleared his throat. "Of course, Kady. We can go right now if you want."

Kady bounced up and down like any other six-year old girl who was suddenly presented with her heart's desire. "Goody! Can Sam come?"

"If her Mom says, sure." Once Neil would have been afraid to utter the word "Mom" in Kady's presence, but now.the change in Kady was almost miraculous.

"I can call her. I know the number!" Sam cried excitedly.

"Can we go to Uncle Sey's bookstore, Daddy? He has lots and lots and lots of books. Maybe he has a unicorn one."

Neil nodded. "Maybe he has dragon ones, too."

"That'd be great!"

As Kady ran off to join her new best friend, Neil could only stand in wonder at how quickly things had taken a different turn. Maybe there was still hope for *him*, too.

"You're going out?" The disbelief in Connor's voice was almost comical.

"Yep. On a school night, too. *Dad*." Neil grinned and his dark blue eyes sparkled for the first time in ages.

"With who?"

"What do you mean, with who? Can't I go out by myself?" Neil continued to adjust his tie, but Connor's incredulous look kept drawing his attention.

"What? You don't like the tie?"

"I hate the tie, Dad, but that's not what I was thinking."

"What were you thinking then?" Neil told himself that he was perfectly capable of picking out his own tie, but nevertheless, he found himself undoing all of his careful handiwork and reaching for another.

"What fun is it to go out by yourself?"

"How do you know I don't have a date?" Neil ruffled Connor's hair and Connor grimaced and pulled away with a muttered, "Daaaaaddd, I'm not a kid anymore. Cut it out."

"You are so," Neil contradicted him.

"Okay, I am," Connor agreed, rolling his eyes at his father. "But you don't know anyone. How could you have a date?"

"Ever heard of a blind date?"

"Oh, God, Dad. Tell me you didn't."

"Didn't what?"

"Let Aunt Derry fix you up. She's got a killer body and I *know* she could out-bench-press most guys, but she's got terrible taste when it comes to fixing up people!"

Neil frowned as his hands froze on the tie at his throat. "How do *you* know?"

"I just do." At Neil's arctic glare, Connor confessed, "Okay, people talk *a lot* when kids are around cause they think we don't understand."

"You're entirely too sophisticated for your age, Con."

"Gee, thanks, Dad." Connor brightened.

"Just who was Derry trying to fix up?"

"Okay, don't laugh. This was a long, long time ago."

"How long?"

"Years."

"Wow, I didn't know you had that good a memory, Con."

"Daaaad."

"She-um-tried to find Uncle James a date."

"What?!"

"Yeah, that's pretty much what he said. She thought a nice woman might straighten him out."

"Con-nor.you're making this up!"

Connor burst out laughing. "Dad, I swear, you're so easy. How can I let you go out by yourself?"

Neil groaned. "I'll be back early."

"I bet you will."

***

It was a nightmare come to life. Neil had never been much for clubbing. He was close to forty and well-settled with his family before clubbing took on the cachet it now had.

But this.this magnificent display of flesh and sequins augmented by color and noise beyond the range of normal senses made him want to find the nearest dark corner and hide.

In the end, that was where he found himself. Staring into an overpriced, watered-down drink, his eyes smarting from the cigarette smoke, his nose offended by stale perfume that took the place of natural body odor. "Why did I think I wanted this?" Neil muttered to himself.

They kept finding him. Women of every shape and description. Men, too. Their manner deceptively casual, they were desperately searching for someone, anyone, to hook up with for the night. But that wasn't what Neil was looking for.

Maybe he was looking in the wrong place.

He started to get up, only to find his hand trapped by another. He looked up and into the face of a beautiful brunette. Momentarily afraid that he had somehow conjured up his absent wife, his hand betrayed his anxiety with a fine tremor that would probably be mistaken for excitement.

"Please-" he started to say, only to find himself struck dumb.

It wasn't Madeline at all. Thank God. Her hair was dark brown, almost black, her eyes similarly colored. *This* woman's hair was a medium shade of brown and hung to her shoulders in waves. Her eyes were virtually the same color, what he could see of them, hidden as they were behind a fall of softly waving hair that covered one. There was nothing extraordinary about her. She was average in every way. Until she smiled.

She had a killer smile, as Connor would say. Neil thought, I must be losing my mind if I can think about my son at a time like this.

She wasn't dressed flashily like all of the others. Of average height, she wore what was obviously a very expensive, custom-tailored shirt tucked into a pair of crisply pleated khaki pants. It was dark, but as far as Neil could tell, she wore no makeup of any kind.

Her skin was fair and smooth and oh, God, he ached to touch it. Would he get thrown out if he did? Would she mind? Shouldn't he say *something*?

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," she said, her voice pitched in a husky, sensual tone that was difficult to make out amidst the other noise of the club. "You looked lonely."

"I was." Neil thought, But I'm not anymore.

She smiled and he felt a sudden tightness in his groin that could only mean one thing. A sudden trip to the men's room.

"I need to use the-uh-" Neil deliberately let his voice trail off.

She nodded. "Of course. Would you like me to wait? Or do you want company?"

"In the men's room?" Neil blurted out. "I mean-"

She shook her head. "That's okay. I'll wait here."

Forced to brush past her, Neil was startled when she leaned even closer. Grazing his mouth with a light kiss, she murmured, "I just had to do that. I hope you didn't mind."

"Mind?" Neil echoed, temporarily forgetting where he was going. He wanted to kiss her back. He wanted to thrust both hands into that thick soft mass of hair that surrounded her perfectly average face and force another smile to her lips.

"What's your name?" he asked, frustrated by trying to make himself heard over the din.

Her lips moved, but he couldn't decipher what she said.

"Excuse me?"

She repeated herself, but Neil still couldn't hear her. Growing more and more frustrated by the moment, he shouted, "I can't hear you!"

She smiled and Neil's heart fell to his toes before surging back up and into his throat. This time he caught her name and he smiled back at her.

"That's a pretty name. Is it short for Annette? Antoinette?"

She shook her head and the lock of hair that fell over her face in such an endearing manner uncovered the sharpest, most intelligent set of eyes he had ever seen in his life. "No."

"What's it short for?"

"Edward."

"Edward?" Neil managed to say before sinking back down into his chair. Maybe if he was really quiet, no one would notice he was there.

"That's right."

Now that Neil knew he was listening to a *male* voice, he could hear the masculine intonations that his head must have been working overtime to ignore. "You're British," he said, apropos of absolutely nothing.

"English, yes."

Edward stared at him pointedly until Neil offered him a seat at the table. "You didn't realize I was a man," he said softly.

Neil rubbed his forehead agitatedly. "God, no."

"Are you upset because I'm not a woman or because I kissed you?"

"Yes. No. Both. Oh, shit." Neil liked to think of himself as a relatively enlightened person, but he could see that there was a wide gap between thinking something and doing it.

"Do you want me to go?" For some reason, Neil glanced at Edward and within moments, he felt lost again. What the hell did *that* mean? Now that he *knew* Edward was a man, how could he still feel attracted to-

Neil groaned and covered his face with both hands. Suddenly he could hear Declan's voice in his head, admonishing him, "You are seriously fucked, boyo. At least be a man and admit it."

"Listen.um, what was your name again?"

"Edward," the younger man whispered, a hurt look blossoming in his eyes.

"No, no, the other name, the one you said first," Neil said impatiently.

"Oh, that. Ned."

"I'm sure you're a great guy, but-"

"You're not interested. I understand. It was nice meeting you." Edward rose to his feet, his head tipping forward, allowing those irksome strands of hair to fall across his brow once more. This time, Neil couldn't stop himself from tucking it back into place.

"What'd you do that for?" Edward asked, his eyes riveted to Neil's face.

"I don't know," Neil confessed.

Neil began again. "Look, I'm married, okay?" At Edward's curious look, Neil sighed heavily. "I'm separated from my wife."

"She left you when she found out you were gay?"

"No! I'm not gay. I've got two kids. I don't even know why I came here. I'm not looking for a one-night stand. I'm.lonely, I guess."

"So am I," Edward murmured.

"I'm just saying, there are all kinds of reasons why this isn't a good idea right now and-"

"It's okay. You don't have to explain."

"Yes, I think I do."

"Why? Because I kissed you?" As Neil began to nod, Edward smiled faintly. "Or because you liked it?"

Neil started to shake his head and once in motion, he found it difficult to stop. "You're way too young for me."

"I'm 25," Edward protested.

"I have kids."

"I like kids."

"Oh, really? Well, I have a soon-to-be ex-wife who is every bit as deadly as she is vicious. How does that sound?"

"Like you haven't been treated all that well for a very long time."

"*That* is the understatement of all time," Neil said to himself. Edward shouldn't have been able to catch any part of that sentence, but he did. "Madeline would have a field day if she knew about this."

"She's threatened you before?"

"It's a way of life for her," Neil said flatly.

Edward shook his hair out and Neil's mouth went dry. "I'll tell you what. Give me your name and number. I'll call you."

Edward removed his wallet from the inside pocket of his pants and dug out a business card. Handing it to Neil, he said, "Please call me," in a voice so husky that it sent shivers up and down Neil's spine.

"I-I will."

No, you won't, Edward told himself. The younger man walked away, fading gradually into the crowd. They always say they'll call. But they never do.

Neil stared at the card he held in his hand. It was too dark to make out all of the letters, but suddenly the last name swam into focus at last. Guest. Edward Guest. Why did his last name sound so damn familiar?

He tapped the card between restless fingers, trying to figure out where he had heard the name most recently, but it continued to elude him. Oh, well, he thought, it's not as if I'm actually going to call him.

Suddenly he was seized with a feeling of genuine despair at the thought of never seeing Edward again. His eyes searching anxiously through the crowd, he finally located him. Leaning against the wall. Alone. Their eyes met and held for long moments before Edward looked away.

But not before Neil mouthed, "Ned. I remember."

It was after midnight when Neil returned home. Cursing his curious mind and wondering why he hadn't been content to stay home and watch TV, he made it as far as the second floor landing before being ambushed by his teenage son.

"Connor! What are you doing up at this hour?"

"Waiting for you, Dad," Connor admitted. "So," he said, bouncing around like an overeager puppy, "did you meet anybody?"

Neil thought of the card that Ned gave him, the very same card that was now burning a hole in his pocket. "No," he said firmly. But he thought, who am I trying to convince, my son or myself?

Connor looked confused. "Dad, only you could go to a club full of people and not meet anybody."

"Good night, Connor."

"But Dad-"

"Gooood niiiightttt, Connor."

"Okay, okay."

***

No sooner did Neil enter his bedroom than he wrenched off his tie and threw it halfway across the room. The rest of his clothing was disposed of in a similar manner. When he was done, he was breathing hard, as if he had just run a race.

He strode into the bathroom, deliberately averting his eyes from the full-length mirror that hung on the wall outside. That was Maddy's vanity, he told himself, not mine. I don't care what I look like anymore. I'm not out to impress anyone.

His heart pounded in tandem with his head. Liar, liar. You *do* care. You're just afraid that you're not good enough.

Neil flung back the shower curtains and started the hot water. Just what he needed, a good hot shower. But the water scalded his skin and it did nothing to alleviate the temper he needed to dissipate.

After a cursory but uncomfortable sluicing, he stepped out and dried himself off. Wrapping a towel around his middle, he stomped into the bedroom, again avoiding his mirror image. He sat down hard on the bed. "Okay, where the hell is it?" he demanded of no one.

He got up and flounced across the room. A brief search of his pockets turned up the card in question. Ned had scribbled the number of a local hotel on the back of his business card. Neil rubbed a finger over the younger man's unexpectedly precise handwriting.

You're actually considering calling him, he said to himself. He dropped the card on the bed and picked up the phone.

A moment later, he dropped the phone and picked up the card. "He won't even remember who I am," he muttered.

What are you afraid of, he argued with himself. That he won't? Or that he *will*?

He raked a hand through his wet hair. Before he could change his mind, he dialed the number on the card. A supercilious voice interrupted his preoccupation. "Could you please connect me with Edward Guest's room?" he asked.

Neil frowned. "What do you mean, there's no answer? There has to be an answer. I-"

"Yes, yes, I know you're not responsible for your guest's whereabouts. I just-"

"Well, could I leave a message?"

"Yes. Tell him Neil called."

"No, no last name. He'll know."

Neil winced as the hotel clerk terminated the connection with a loud burst of static.

"Shit, I forgot to leave a number for him to call back. I didn't even tell him my last name. He'll never find me. He doesn't know who I am or what I do."

Neil closed his eyes and sighed heavily. He was *not* calling back to the hotel.

***

Neil punched his pillow and rolled over again. Tossing and turning was completely unlike him. Oh, he had his bouts of insomnia from time to time, but he usually found something constructive to do instead of sleeping. But now, all he could do was think of how badly he fucked things up and how, as a result, he would never sleep again.

It didn't matter if he couldn't sleep. If he slept, he just knew he would dream, and he was sure he knew what the nature of those dreams would be like. Hot. Sensual.

Neil punched his pillow again. Frustrating. Definitely frustrating.

He was not a teenager. He was not going to give in to the urge to masturbate. And he was certainly not going to fantasize about some *kid* nearly half his age.

***

When he woke up, he rightly concluded that he must have fallen into an exhausted sleep sometime during the night. It was early morning. He groaned at the thought of getting up, but he had to get Kady ready for school. Connor could get himself dressed and he was more than capable of getting his own breakfast, too, but it was Neil's turn to cook.

He stumbled into the bathroom, yawning. It didn't take him long to relieve himself, shave, and get dressed. By the time he headed to Kady's room, he was fairly awake. "Kady? Time to get up, sweetheart."

He pushed open her door with one hand and stopped. Her room was empty. That was odd.

Frowning, he walked down the hall to Connor's room. "Con?" he called out. But there was no answer. Starting to worry, he opened the door and gasped. Connor wasn't in his room either.

He couldn't take the stairs quickly enough. As he approached the kitchen, shouting his children's names now, he ran through every worst-case scenario he knew.

But nothing could have prepared him for what he saw when he pushed through the French doors.

"Hi, Daddy," Kady said, a huge smile on her face. Not only was she completely dressed, but she was already eating breakfast.

"Pretty neat, huh, Dad?" Connor asked rhetorically, indicating the fresh hot food on the kitchen table.

"You did this?" Neil asked incredulously.

"No, I did."

And Neil was positive that he was going to pass out. For the owner of that quiet, well-spoken voice was none other than Ned.

"Wh-why?"

Ned shrugged. "I couldn't think of any other way to convince you that I'm serious."

"But-" Neil couldn't even finish the sentence. He wasn't even sure he *wanted* a relationship, much less one with a man. But no one had ever been this kind to him without wanting something in return.

And how was he going to explain this to his kids?

"You should be getting a phone call right.about.now."

Obligingly, the phone rang. Neil picked up the receiver, still in a bit of a daze. "Hello?"

"Marcus? Marcus Guest?"

"Well, yes, I did meet him. He's *your* younger brother? No, he didn't tell me."

"You want me to what?"

"Show him around? Take care that he doesn't get into mischief? And generally look out for him?"

"Oh, no, Marcus. I can do that. It's just that-" Neil cast a fond look at the subject of their discussion.

"He rather seems to be taking care of *me*."