e hoped she wasn't going to fall asleep again. It would be easy to do, all curled up on the couch, worn out from her trip into Watertown that afternoon.

Terry sighed as he rummaged through the filing cabinet beside his office desk. Even Debbie wasn't napping, but off playing with her sisters at a next door neighbor's house. That pint-sized little girl had more stamina than Madison, and never had that been more evident than the way Madison had curled up on the living room couch with that precious notebook of hers and closed her eyes to the world.

He hoped she wasn't sleeping.

"Hey, John?" Terry looked to his friend at the second desk. "Have you seen a dark red folder labeled 'tenant applications'? I know I had some spare forms, but I can't find them."

"Red folder?" John thought a moment. "Have you tried the locked cabinet in the corner? That's where you usually keep all the legal docs for the complex."

"No, I already checked." Terry flipped past some thick business folders, a mystery paperback that had been shoved in and then forgotten, a stack of old brochures he'd stopped using to advertise the apartments, the user's manual to the microwave in his kitchen… wait a moment. He flipped back, tugged out the paperback and groaned. A library book, and by the looks of it, grossly overdue.

He tossed it onto the desk. He'd take care of it later, but right now, he needed to find those forms.

When he found them wedged between last year's tax returns, he promised to get more organized. He pulled out a blank residency application, grabbed a pen and a stiff notebook, then headed for the living room.

The occupant on the couch wasn't asleep yet, and she blinked at him as he sat down in John's recliner.

"Okay," Terry clicked the pen, "let's get started. This is for apartment number four. The move-in date will be... let's say next Monday; it'll take longer than that to find furniture, but we'll tackle that when we come to it. Lease dates-- check, monthly rent-- one dollar."

"Terry, that's not fair."

"Quiet, I'm busy. Applicant's name, Madison Crawford. Address, phone number-- I'll leave that one blank; after last night, your own cell phone is definitely on the get-list. Email-- none, previous address…" here, Terry paused. "Okay, where did you live before you came to Three Mile Bay?" He looked to the couch, and those stormy gray eyes locked on him. "Come on, Maddie, I need this for the records. Where did you used to live?"

She shook her head.

"How about the state? Was it New York, or somewhere else?"

Her mouth pulled into a tight line, and she hugged the notebook closer.

"You're not going to tell me, are you. Not even for me? See this?" He held up the paper. "This goes into a locked security cabinet in my office, right down the hall. No one will ever see this but me."

Hurt stirred in those storm-tossed eyes, but she remained silent.

He sighed, crossed out the offending questions and moved on. "Can you give me your former employer?" It was a needless question. She wouldn't tell him where she was from, and by the looks of her, he already knew she'd never held down a job. "Never mind, I'll cross that out." Despite himself, he chuckled at the situation. "I tell you, Maddie, you'd better be grateful I'm such an understanding guy." He glanced at her, and when he saw that faint smile, he breathed easier that he wasn't making an enemy by asking questions. "Social Security number?"

As if to prove they were friends, she gave it to him without a moment's hesitation.

"Let's see. No income, no children, no pets. Right? You haven't taken in any stray cats or dogs I should know about, have you?"

A shy smile tilted her lips.

"Okay, now there's some legal jargon you need to read before signing this. It basically states you give me permission to verify credit information, references from your previous landlord, any criminal history, and basically anything that would give me information as to the desirability of having you for a tenant. Here, I'll let you read it for yourself." He got up, handed it to her, then went back to the recliner.

The scared bunny-rabbit-look came over her again. "Are you going to do all this? Are you going to do a background check?"

He couldn't help laughing. "What do you think? Do you see me torturing you for information?"

"Please, Terry, don't."

"I wasn't planning to, but out of curiosity, why not?"

Her chin tucked against her chest, and he could no longer see those gray eyes.

"Okay, Maddie. If that's what you want, I give you my word I won't do any background checks without your permission. This is ridiculous, because I wasn't going to do it anyway, but if it'll help you sleep easier, you have my word. Here. Take the pen and cross out the clause."

The hand holding the form shook like a tremoring earthquake.

"I'm not angry, all right? Take the pen. Cross out whatever you want, but then sign the thing. I must be completely nuts. Anyone in their right mind would insist on some answers, but not me. Here-- take the pen." When she remained where she was, Terry tossed it to her.

She stared at him.

Quietly, Izumi moved to the kitchen doorway. She had been listening, probably couldn't help but listen since she was only in the kitchen.

"Maddie, you're going to have to trust me on this. You need a place to stay, and if you don't take one of my apartments, no one will let you sign a lease without a visible source of income and absolutely no form of identity besides a Social Security number and no card to back it up. You don't even have a birth certificate, do you?"

The slender daisy was silent.

"Did you bring one to Three Mile Bay?"

She shook her head.

"But you did have one, right? Back where you came from, you did have a birth certificate?"

She nodded, "yes."

"Okay then." Terry leaned back in the recliner. "My next project is to look into getting your birth certificate replaced. I don't think you can get another Social Security card without one, and now that you have a current place of residence to go with your name, I think it should help get these documents replaced. I don't know for certain, of course, never having found a need to replace every shred of my identity from the ground up." He waited a beat, and when she didn't smile, he sighed. "Would you sign the thing before I become an old man? I'd like to get this over with."

She clicked the pen, placed the form against her notebook, and with a gathering look of fierce concentration, dug the ballpoint deep into the paper. Painfully, and with great effort, she formed each shaky stroke, just as she had in the doctor's office when filling out that patient questionnaire.

Terry flicked a glance at Izumi. He'd taken in a stray puppy who had no collar or tag to indicate a previous owner.

Worrying her bottom lip, Madison examined the marks she'd just made before looking at him.

"I think I messed it up."

Izumi gave him a look of sympathy as she went back to the kitchen.

"It's okay. I'm sure it's good enough." He took back the form, saw the signature gouged deep into the paper and said nothing. He wrote in the date, attached his name to it, then got up to file it away and get his laptop.

When he returned, he planted himself in John's recliner and started the tedious job of learning how to replace Madison's identification. After an hour of investigation, he looked over the laptop to find her watching him.

"Okay, kiddo. I need to know what state you were born in. To get a birth certificate replaced, I need to start at the state level."

A resigned groan shuddered through her frame. "I was born here in New York."

"There," he smiled, "was that so hard?"

When she didn't respond, he went back to the website.

"Did you ever have a non-driver photo ID card?"

"No."

Another thirty minutes later, and he was less sure this would be as easy as he'd naively hoped. To deter identity fraud, they needed other forms of identification she simply didn't have. He was all for stopping the bad guys, but what were the good guys supposed to do?

Deeper research showed that lesser forms of ID would be accepted, such as a utility bill with that person's name on it, and also a rental agreement. Okay, she could do those. He'd need to refill the residency application so it appeared halfway normal, and she'd have to wait to get a utility bill, but those were things she could do. Without the new apartment, these would be close to impossible.

Using careful wording, he tried very hard to explain this to Madison. Instead of ready information about where she'd come from, she glared with an icy look that made him feel he was standing in front of a freezer with the door wide open.

"To get your Social Security card replaced, you first need a birth certificate. Without either of these, you can't get your ID card, let alone a driver's license when it comes time for one. These are basic things, Maddie."

Like an ostrich shoving its head into the sand, she tugged out one of the bedding blankets, and pulled it over her head.

"I know you're under there." Terry folded his arms. "Maddie, talk to me."

"Go away," came from the blanket.

"Where do you want me to go? I live here."

Silence. Seeing she had no handy retort, Terry set aside the laptop, and went back to the office for a fresh form to start over. This had to be filled out properly, for it would stand in as part of her identification.

"Everything all right in there?" John asked from his desk.

"It's under control," Terry assured him. Before John could ask what that was supposed to mean, Terry headed for the living room.

"Okay, let's do this one more time." Terry sat in the recliner, clicked the pen and immediately realized that with no employment or income to fill in, things were still going to look out of the ordinary. Oh well, he'd fill it in as best he could, and where it asked for employer, he'd simply make a note saying she was looking for a job, and leasing the apartment for next to nothing because the landlord didn't want her to be homeless. Pitiful, yes, but it was honest.

He filled in all the things he already knew, then braced himself for round two.

"Maddie?" Then a bit firmer, "Madison. What was your former address?"

"I don't like you anymore."

He paid no attention to the remark. "I need this information. You want to make your own way in the world, don't you?"

No reply.

"A job. You want to get a job and be independent."

"Yes."

"Then you need things like a photo ID. You won't be able to open a bank account without one, and I know of at least one public library where you can't even get a library card if you don't have any photo ID. You must establish your identity."

She was silent.

"Tell me your former address."

The blanket pushed back, and she looked out. "Do you promise to never call or go there?"

He was tantalizingly close to Madison's past; he could feel it in her resistance to give him the location of her former hell. He also knew if he didn't give his solemn word, she wouldn't be able to start a new life. She had to have this, even if she didn't fully understand it yet.

"Very well, I give my word to never visit or place any calls to this address."

"And you won't ask anyone else to, either?"

"Maddie, if I'm giving you my word, it only stands to reason I wouldn't do that to you."

She looked unmoved. "Promise."

"Okay, I promise. Before God, I will never do those things."

For several long moments, she peered at him with a reluctance he could feel all the way from the recliner.

"Please trust me, Maddie."

The stare broke. She blinked, ducked back under the blanket. And recited her address.

He wrote it in, read it back and she confirmed that he'd gotten it right. Huh. New York City. The same state in which she was born.

"Okay, time to plant your signature again." He got up, tapped the blanket until she finally emerged. "Sign here, then make your initials here. And go easy on the pen."

Nothing guaranteed that whoever looked at this residency application would accept it, but Madison had no other alternative-- at least, none he could see.

He took back the signed form, included his name and date, then returned it to his office to be stored in a filing cabinet under lock and key.

This was only the first step in establishing Madison's legal existence in her new life, but Terry knew it was a vital one. He prayed God was directing his steps, and that those steps would not slide beneath their feet. The form was not complete, for he needed a cell number, and then there was the application for the birth certificate once they had all the necessary papers ready. He'd just glimpsed some of the questions, and they wanted specific names, dates, and locations.

Better to not tell her that until he needed the information. Scare her too early, and he feared Madison would close up tighter than a clam on a New England clambake.

While Madison stayed on the couch, Terry went into the kitchen. He had a loose end to tie up.

Like she often did at this time of day, Izumi stood at the stove, preparing dinner.

"Izzy, could I interrupt you for a minute?" He leaned against the counter, saw the innocence in her face and knew she had heard. "I need you to promise never to investigate the address Madison gave me, or to ever contact it in any way."

Giving the pan one more stir, she tapped the spoon and set it down. "What makes you think I know what you're talking about?"

He gave her a look.

"Okay, I admit I overheard the address. You had to give your word, but I didn't."

"Izzy, it's the same deal. If she can't trust us, then whom can she?"

With a sigh, Izumi went to the notepad by the telephone, tore off the top sheet and thrust it into Terry's hand.

"You wrote it down?"

She gave an indignant look, and he backed off.

"Thanks, Izzy." He shredded the paper, tossed it into the wastebasket as John came into the kitchen in search of food.

"What's for dinner?" John asked.

Izumi smiled. "Goose."

"What?"

"My goose is cooked," she sighed, eyeing the wastebasket. "If you want me to give you a promise, Terry, then I suppose you have one."

"Promise for what?" John asked, reaching around Izumi to poke his finger into the sauce and get a taste. He danced away with a laugh when Izzy scolded him. "I was thinking," John grinned, quickly forgetting his question, "let's have family movie night after dinner."

"There's an idea." Izumi smiled and it put Terry fully at ease. "What made you think of that?"

"Oh, I don't know." John pulled out a kitchen chair, sat down and flashed a grin at Terry.

"He thinks I need a diversion," Terry said, taking a seat opposite John. "Since you're suggesting this because of me, then I get to pick the movie."

"I never said it was for you." John folded his arms and arched a brow at Terry. "Everything isn't always about you."

Terry chuckled. "I appreciate the thought, but Maddie has been staying away from the TV. This might not be a good idea."

"Then get her to pick the movie. All I ask is that no one forces me to sit through another chick-flick; that last one we watched was brutal." John glanced at his watch and stood up. "I gotta go pick up the girls."

As John left the kitchen, Izumi called after him,

"Austen is not a chick-flick."

"You know, he's right," Terry said, leaning back in the chair. "John and I still haven't recovered from the shock of Lizzy turning down Mr. Darcy. I don't know about you, but John and I were very emotional about the whole thing. We haven't been the same since."

He could see Izumi was about to toss back a laughing retort, when Madison appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"You have Pride and Prejudice?" she asked in wide-eyed excitement.

Terry groaned. He knew what they would be watching after dinner.

* * * *

Madison couldn't believe her good fortune. She had a seat on the couch, a blanket to keep warm, and even though Terry, John and Izzy sat beside her, (in that order), she felt as though an unexpected gift had been just dropped in her lap. They passed a large bowl of popcorn from one end of the couch to the other, while the very same movie she'd wanted to see again for such a long time, played on the large screen TV.

"This is going to be lengthy," Terry sighed, nudging John for the popcorn. "I'm not staying awake for the entire thing."

John groaned. "Yeah, thanks, Buddy."

"Hey, you said to let her pick it, and she did."

"Would you two be quiet? You're going to miss the good part."

"Good part?" John gave Izzy a half laugh. "According to you, it's all a good part."

"Hush!"

Terry pulled out his cell phone, Googled the name of the movie. He nudged John, and showed him the screen.

"Figures. It certainly feels like a miniseries."

Izzy didn't reply, and the couch quieted as Mr. Darcy slighted Lizzy at the ball.

The movie had always held a strong fascination for Madison. She remembered seeing it once several years ago, and the absolute agony that went with it of hoping each episode would air when she had the freedom to watch. Those scarce times when the Dragon fell asleep and she could turn the channel, push the volume down to nearly mute, and watch Pride and Prejudice. She'd missed enough of it to nearly forget herself and cry, but during those few precious hours, she'd had the secret thrill of living in someone else's world. The beating she'd gotten when the Dragon found out, had been worth it. A face full of blood was a small price to pay for the freedom it gave her imagination. When life filled her days and nights with shame, she could close her eyes and become sharp and down-to-earth Lizzy, dazzling the pride out of Mr. Darcy.

Madison loved the way Lizzy cut him down to size when he proposed marriage:

"You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner. You could not have made the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it."

* * * *

The triplets didn't have any interest in the movie, except for the popcorn, and when they'd had their fill, each and every one of them had run off to play Hoppin' Froggies in their room.

Briefly, Terry had thought of joining them. He had no idea why he still didn't, only that Madison seemed to be having a genuinely good time.

While watching a romance, no less.

It didn't make any sense, but then, he'd noticed women seemed to have a thing for Jane Austen. This movie had played over and over on cable, and yet, here they were, watching it on DVD for the umpteenth time.

Why didn't the men in this family revolt once in a while? Terry knew the answer to that. John stayed to make Izzy happy, and Terry stayed because it was no fun going to his room and watching an action movie by himself.

Even now, he didn't really want to leave, even though the triplets would probably love it if he tried his hand at level four again. He just didn't feel in the mood to be laughed at by three little angels who could run rings around their poor uncle when it came to kiddie games. No, he'd rather be here, watching Elizabeth Bennet wince and squirm while Mr. Collins made her a marriage proposal doomed to failure. Not exactly an easy thing to watch.

When he tried to pass Madison the popcorn, she wouldn't take it. Short of dumping it over her head, he couldn't force her to take more if she didn't want any. At least she had eaten a healthy dinner, and he tried to content himself with that.

The moment the end credits started, Terry pushed to his feet and remarked how late it was getting.

"But, there's more movie left," Madison said, her eyes growing wide with alarm. "It's not over yet."

"Yeah, I know." Terry stretched his stiff limbs. "We can finish it up some other time. Maybe next Saturday night we can do this all over again."

"But it gets better. Lizzy goes to Derbyshire with her aunt and they see Pemberley!"

The way she said it, made Terry think of a child looking forward to tearing open a long anticipated Christmas present. He regarded her a moment. John was already herding the girls to bed, and Izzy was taking the popcorn bowl into the kitchen. The party was over.

"Hey, Izzy?" Terry followed her to the kitchen sink. "Do you mind if Maddie watches more of that movie without you?"

"Of course not. I've seen it a million times." Izumi smiled as she added dish detergent to the running water. "I'd only remind you tomorrow's Sunday, and from what you told me, she's coming with us."

"She'll be there."

"You know," Izumi washed the bowl with a thoughtful face, "you could start the DVD again, then let her fall asleep while it played."

"Actually, I was thinking of staying up with her for part two." Terry moved out of Izumi's way when she reached for three juice cups to add to the sink. "Maddie looked so eager, when she realized everyone was going to bed, she nearly cried."

"You? Stay up for Pride and Prejudice?" Izumi pinned him with an incredulous look.

"I'll get my laptop," he shrugged, "get some things taken care of while it's playing. Which reminds me, I need to remember to lend her my old Bible so she'll have something to read in church."

"I'd volunteer to stay up with you," Izumi sighed, "but I'm too tired. There's some pretzels in the cupboard if you get hungry. Don't stay up too late."

"We won't. After the next installment, the party really will be over." Terry grabbed the pretzels, went back to the living room and dropped them on the couch beside Madison. "Give me a few minutes to get my laptop, and we'll start the movie." He resisted the urge to see her reaction, but when he turned down the hall, the sound of the pretzel bag opening made him smile.

* * * *

Even though he'd struggled with sadness that morning, a silver lining came in the fact he wasn't all that sleepy tonight. He sat in John's recliner, surfing the online bookstores for a new Bible for Madison, and popping mini pretzels into his mouth while Madison held the bag hostage on the couch.

She was eating, actually munching pretzels and forgetting herself in the enjoyment of the movie. There weren't many times when she relaxed so completely that those gray eyes would sparkle with such pure excitement. So much for Izzy's suggestion of playing the movie until Maddie fell asleep. That was about as unlikely as John suddenly professing a love for all things Jane Austen.

It simply wasn't going to happen.

"Have you ever read Pride and Prejudice?" Terry asked.

She timidly shook her head, "no," and a moment later was sucked back into the story.

Acting on impulse, Terry typed in "Austen" and hit return.

On the large screen TV, Mr. Darcy was visiting Lizzy and beginning the silence that led up to the infamous proposal and her subsequent wrath. The guy had it coming, and Terry caught himself pausing to watch the actors toss around dialogue like a skillful chef attacking poultry.

On the couch, Madison's pretzels had come to a complete halt. She sat cuddled under a fluffy comforter, one hand in the pretzel bag, the other gripping the blanket. Her entire being was transfixed on Mr. Darcy and Lizzy.

Shaking his head, Terry turned back to the laptop, scrolled down and began reviewing the candidates the bookstore recommended. He selected one, added it to the cart along with the Bible, then checked out just as Lizzy began reading Mr. Darcy's letter.

Yawning, Terry checked the time. This was a miniseries, all right. A long one.

* * * *

Part two had ended hours ago, but Madison found it impossible to sleep. In the dim hue of the night-light, she looked over to the recliner where Terry was sprawled out. She'd carefully lifted the laptop without waking him, and set it on the end table so he wouldn't drop it in his sleep.

How could he do it? She didn't understand. How could Terry possibly sleep when Mr. Darcy was beginning to make Lizzy more conscious of the fact she cared for him? He'd even slept through the part where Mr. Darcy caught Lizzy taking a tour of his grounds at Pemberley. The shock of that meeting had Madison diving beneath the blanket only to quickly peer out as the two stammered out their small talk.

Now that she'd seen all of part two, she longed for more.

Light began to spread behind the soft curtains, signaling the start of another day. Today was Sunday, and even though she'd brought a fresh change of clothes especially for church, she dreaded going. People were going to stare-- she just knew they were. If the rumors of what she was to Terry didn't make them stare, then the things that made her not normal, would. Then there were the other men, widowed men like what's-his-name with the compact little dog with the impossible name of Macho. Brian, wasn't it? He'd better not try anything, or Macho's owner would soon be sorry.

Then there was Perfect Emily. She went to the same church as Terry, and as sure as Madison's hip was beginning to ache, she knew Emily would be there.

The clear image of Terry with the always Perfect Emily, holding and kissing her after they were married, struck Madison so brutally hard the air squeezed from her chest. For a desperate moment she thought she would suffocate. Her own worthlessness came crashing down on her in one gigantic wave.

She needed relief, and knew how to find it. She hadn't done it in a long time, but once every few months was okay, wasn't it? God wouldn't mind, would He? Something inside her tried to stop it from happening, but she needed to feel better again.

Careful not to disturb the person in the recliner, she got up, and limped into the kitchen.

Heart pounding, she scanned the countertop. There it was, pushed all the way from the edge, and tucked under the cupboards, far out of reach from the children.

Izzy was such a good mother.

Madison grabbed the closest knife and clamped her mouth shut.

While Terry slept in the living room, Madison ran the knife over her belly. She cut until the pain flooded her body, drowning out the hurt that hadn't been made from steel. Tears stung her eyes, but that was okay, she could cry because of the pain-- just as long as she didn't make any noise while she sobbed.

A sound came from the living room, choking her with a sharp pang of grief and fear. She waited, dreading someone would appear in the doorway and see what she was doing.

A minute ticked by, but no one came.

Careful to not turn the faucet on so high it made noise, she held the trembling knife beneath the trickling stream. She dried the blade, then slid it back into the wooden block.

The act steadied her. She wouldn't cry anymore. She could handle the pain-- all of it-- and survive what she had to. The self-inflicted punishment felt good to a soul that kept telling her she wasn't worth the flesh that held her together.

Pinning the edge of her shirt under her chin, she wadded paper towels into her pants to keep the blood from staining her jeans. She pressed a hand to the scarred, slippery skin and knew it was too late to stop the blood from getting on her clothes. After washing her hands, Madison crept to the doorway. She looked into the living room while dread pounded away in her chest.

Please be asleep, Terry. Please be asleep.

The person in the recliner had shifted in his sleep, but that was all. His eyes were still closed, his chest still rose and fell with each slumbering breath. Wasn't he nice to look at? She could stand there all morning and watch that kind face, that mouth that so often slipped into a crooked grin when he was happy.

Elizabeth Bennet would like Terry. The real world and make-believe blended in one perfect moment, and Madison saw Terry carrying Lizzy to a bedroom on their wedding night. When the door closed, Madison woke from the dream.

She refused to admit that like an actor taking on a roll, she had played Lizzy.

Closing her lips tightly so no whimper of pain could escape, she softly stole past the recliner.

She paused, but he didn't stir.

Holding her breath, she crept to the couch, lifted out tomorrow's change of clothes while praying Terry wouldn't wake up and see her with blood all over her shirt and pants.

Without a sound, she crossed over the carpet and into the hall. Ducking into the home office, she headed straight for the half bath. She sensed the movie had probably done this to her, brought on a surge of emotions that had probably overwhelmed her to the point of needing to cut again. For some reason it made her think of Terry's battle cry, but the words wouldn't comfort her while she focused on the pain so hard.

Safe behind the locked door of the bathroom, Madison finally let herself breathe. She pulled away the paper towels and looked at the wounds. Using her finger, she opened the cuts to make them bleed more, until fear got the better of her and she stopped. She cleaned them with water, then staunched the flow by pressing folds of toilet paper to her belly. By the angry look of the wounds, she feared this time, she might have gone too deep.

Pushing aside the panic that wanted to bubble out of her, she opened the mirror that doubled as a bathroom cabinet. The moment she saw the small bottle and the half open box, a prayer of thanks fell from her lips.

Terry and John kept antiseptic and bandages in the cabinet.

After scrubbing the blood from her clothes, she wrung them out, then sneaked through the kitchen to the laundry room to put them into the dryer. No one but herself and God had to know.

* * * *

Aside from the humiliating fact that he'd slept all night in the recliner, Terry felt reasonably happy about the way the morning was going. Madison had come to breakfast without the slightest struggle, and was even dressed and ready for church. The T-shirt and jeans might not be what the rest of them were wearing, but after a quick change into his own weekday clothes, he felt better knowing she at least wouldn't look so out of place. John saw Terry change and must have guessed why, for soon after, John and Izzy had dressed down to blend in with Madison.

It warmed Terry's heart to see his family do that without being asked.

Even though Madison's peaches and cream complexion might have bordered more on cream than peaches, she looked calm enough. She hardly said a single word during breakfast, but she'd eaten all her food. While the signs weren't overly hopeful, he took the optimistic viewpoint that she was getting better. If only marginally so.

Now, as John pulled the minivan into the church's parking lot, Terry saw the first glimpse of trouble in Madison's face.

"Try to take it easy," Terry smiled, unsnapping his seat belt. "They won't bite. Do you have your Bible?"

A pale hand touched the worn volume at her side. She nodded, then worked to release her seat belt.

Unease fluttered at Terry's heart, but he gave it to the Lord and tried to keep her spirits up by joking with the triplets as he helped to unbuckle them, one by one. Even in all the smiles and laughter, he noticed the wince of pain as Madison stooped to leave the minivan.

He touched her arm. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "I'll be glad when this is over."

"That's no way to look at church," Terry laughed. "They'll be nice to you, you'll see."

The encouragement did little to make her smile. She stuck to his side so hard, when he turned to make sure Lizzie didn't lag behind, he almost slammed his chin into Madison's face.

He'd feel better if that face smiled. Just once.

Please, God, help Maddie.

* * * *

It seemed to Madison that the Johanneses and Terry knew everyone in church. People greeted them, spoke in concern about the recent vandalism at Terry's apartment, and in general commented on things that had happened during the week since they'd gathered. Like clockwork, every time Terry introduced her to someone, she heard that flicker of curiosity in their voice, that extra long look that somehow tried to gauge who she was.

She didn't have the courage to look any of them in the eye. Terry didn't make her talk, and tried to answer for her whenever a question came in her direction. She kept her eyes down, her mouth shut, and stuck to Terry like glue until she was told to sit on a long wooden bench. She wouldn't do it, until she saw Terry sit down first.

Sitting beside Terry was better than facing people while you stood. To appear busy, she opened Terry's old Bible and began leafing through the first few pages. If she looked busy, maybe people would leave her alone.

"Good morning, Emily. Nice to see you're feeling well enough to join us, Mr. McCall."

The greeting made what was left of Madison's blood turn cold. She lifted her eyes just a fraction to see the woman in the slim dress and smartly brushed hair smiling down at her. The cheerful woman stood behind a slumped old man in a wheelchair.

"Good morning, Terry, and to you, Madison. I'm glad you came."

The elbow in Madison's side prompted a hasty, "Thanks."

"Daddy," Emily bowed over the wheelchair she was pushing, "this is Terry's houseguest. Madison."

The old man pinned Madison with a critical eye. "'Mornin," he said finally.

Since the man didn't appear to expect a reply, and since Terry's elbow didn't prompt her to make one, Madison lowered her eyes to the Bible and pretended her hardest to look busy.

The title pages were as old and worn as the man in the wheelchair, but the printing was clear, and the handwritten names done in a careful penmanship that was easy to read.

This Bible
was
Presented to
Terry E. Davis
By John J. Johannes

For Thou hast delivered my soul from death: wilt not Thou deliver my feet from falling, that I may walk before God in the light of the living? [Psalm 56:13]

He's going to try to talk to you after service is over. Whatever happens, be nice.

why should i?

I'm not trying to marry you off. I gave my word, remember? Be POLITE to Brian, and we'll finish Pride and Prejudice today.

I promise.

"And now, Lord, what wait I for? my hope is in Thee."
~ Psalm 39:7 ~