Two Holts: Steele Paying the Price
Sunday, 14 December 1986 (Tile floors & Christmas)
“Laura, I’m going to kill him.”
“Why?”
“Because Christmas is a week and half away, and I still don’t have floors in the kitchen or the
bathroom. Murphy’s been on a case nearly day and night since Thanksgiving. How am I supposed
to host Christmas when I don’t have a house?”
“It’s that time of year, Katy. For some reason, that makes everyone nervous. Things will settle
down after Christmas Day. We don’t mind the fact you don’t have floors.”
“Laura! I mind! I can’t wait until after the holidays for floors. I’m carrying twins, remember?
The doctor thinks I won’t make it until January at this rate. I knew this would happen. I’m going
to have concrete floors, new babies and no husband in sight.”
“Have you thought of hiring someone?”
“Laura--no matter how annoyed I am, the insult of calling a contractor at this point might irreparably
damage our marriage. Never come between a man and his projects. It’s like a war zone and there’s
no such thing as friendly fire.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Throw myself on your mercy.”
“Mine?”
“I’ve already talked to Donald, and he’s willing to come up on the Saturday before Christmas and
help Murphy finish the job before Mom, Frances and the kids come in on Tuesday. But he said
Remington has to help if it’s going to get done in a weekend.”
“Remington? Tiling floors? You’re kidding me, right?”
“Please, Laura? I need your help on this one.”
“You might be causing irreparable harm to my marriage, Katy.”
“He’s good with his hands, right?”
“I’ll be sure to tell him that while I explain how you talked me into this, Steamroller.”
* * * * *
“I’m in.”
“What? No arguments, no remarks about Remington Steele not getting his hands dirty?”
“No. Should there be?”
“Hmm. Well, no. I’ll change our flights then.”
“Besides, Murphy will owe me for this.”
“And therein lies the answer.”
* * * * *
As the Steeles and Donald walked in from the jetway, Murphy took in Remington’s casual elegance,
even while wearing a denim shirt, boots and jeans. He shook his head as he caught Laura by the
waist for a quick squeeze and kiss on the temple. “Steele, you’re going to get dirty today. I’m sure
it’s going to cramp your style. Donald, good to see you. Thanks for coming.” He’d learned by
now that the best way to get a dig into Remington was to talk fast and keep the conversation going.
Laura helped by asking, “Where’s Katy?”
“At home and annoyed that she won’t fit in the car with the three of you and the luggage.” At the
baggage carousel, Murphy winced as the trio began pulling off boxes and suitcases. “How long are
you guys planning to stay?”
Donald shot him a hard look. “My wife insisted that if she has to bring Abigail and the kids by
herself, I had to bring all the gifts.” Wisely, the blonde said nothing, merely nodded in
understanding.
“Murphy, I hear your bride is rather disgruntled at the moment.” Steele arched his brow at him.
“Tell me about it. She’s been giving me hell since I chipped out the first tile.”
“Perhaps. I must say, your timing couldn’t be more perfect for home renovation. It’s the holidays
and your wife is ready to give birth--what a wonderful time to upgrade the kitchen!”
“Steele, in this instance, there isn’t anything you can say to me that Kate hasn't already expounded
on in extraordinary detail.”
“Well, then, I’ll consider the topic properly covered.”
The three men spent Saturday afternoon and evening clearing out the last of the kitchen and the
bathroom while the twins began giving the house a thorough cleaning. Despite the frequent breaks
for Kate to rest and put her feet up, they made good progress on the upstairs. Murphy’s sister,
Jena, on break from college, showed up with pizza for dinner and spent the rest of the evening
working with the two sisters.
By nightfall, Laura knew exactly why Remington had readily volunteered for the weekend. It was
nearly midnight when they snuggled on the double bed in the nursery, enjoying the privacy they
would have until Abigail arrived and they were bumped to the sleeper sofa in the living room. She
yawned and turned in his arms, finding the hollow of his shoulder where she liked to rest her head.
Automatically, his arm came around to anchor her in place while their legs intertwined.
“How’s the knee?” He massaged it gently, knowing that she’d graduated from a full leg brace to an
elastic one earlier in the week.
“Not bad. It aches, but I think it’s from all the exercise, not because the ligaments are pulling. It’s
probably a good thing that Kate needs a break every half hour. I can stop when I need and not feel
guilty. Well, almost--Jena’s making us look like slackers.”
“The boundless energy of youth.” He slid his hand around to her backside and stroked the flesh
there.
Laura shivered and fit her body closer to his. “I do hope you are not implying that I’m anything
other than young and energetic.”
“Perhaps you should prove it to me. I’ve been--how do you say it--male bonding over tools and
dirt. I could use some female companionship to balance my day.”
“I’ve got a question first.”
Remington shifted so that he could place his lips along her neck. He brushed her hair back with one
hand. “What is it?”
“I knew you had a thing for old ladies, but I didn’t realize it was for pregnant women too. Or is it
just Kate?” She felt him freeze for a moment and then relax again.
“A bit of both, perhaps. A woman ripening with child is beautiful in any case. But Kate--Good
Lord, Laura, she’s your identical twin. I can’t help looking at her and thinking of you. Murphy’s
already bopped me on the head for staring at his wife. It was rather embarrassing.”
“He didn’t tell me that.”
“No, he wouldn’t. But he did tell me to go get my own wife pregnant if I wanted one that much.”
Laura smiled into his hair. “Do you want one?”
He froze again and pulled away to look at her face. “What are you saying?”
She laughed. “Not that. No, I’m not pregnant. I’m asking if you want a child--someday.”
“I do, Laura. But not yet, I think.” His hand resumed its stroking and she shivered again.
“Why?”
“You are full of questions tonight.”
“You’re rarely in the mood to answer them.”
“You know me too well, love. Perhaps that’s it then. I’m still enjoying being with you. And
perhaps it’s selfish, but I’m not quite ready to share.”
“I don’t think it’s selfish at all. I think it’s sensible. After all the time we spent getting here, it’s nice
being here.”
“That it is, love.” His tone changed from serious to seductive. “There are definitely places I like
being. For example--“
Laura’s breath caught. “I like you there too.”
Early Sunday morning, Murphy knocked on the door and laughed when he heard creative swearing
from the other side. Happily, he headed downstairs to start a pot of coffee and to fine tune the plan
for laying tile that day.
Laura leaned on her elbow and poked her comatose husband whose face was buried in his pillow.
When nudging and prodding failed to rouse him, she dove into her morning arsenal and pulled out
the heavy weaponry. Straddling him, she began trailing her tongue around his shoulder blade and
then worked her way down his spine. In under a minute, Remington groaned and rolled to pin
Laura to the bed. Unfortunately for him, his wife was a tad faster than he in the mornings and
eluded his grasp, taking the sheets and coverlet with her.
“Laura,” he complained.
“Up, Mr. Steele. You promised.”
He squinted at the clock dotted with sailboats and ducks and then at his wife wrapped in the
bedcovers. “It’s seven in the morning,” he muttered. “I didn’t volunteer for this, Laura.”
“You did. Come on--the kitchen awaits your presence.”
He leaned up on an elbow and ran his free hand through his hair. “Do I get a cup of tea first?”
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I’ll even make it for you.” She didn’t miss the gleam in his
eye and his hands snaking under the sheets she wore. When he made his move, she stepped
backward, pulling him from the bed to land on the floor with a thud.
“Damn it, Laura.” He rubbed his elbow and then scratched his morning beard. “There are more
pleasant ways to wake a body.”
“It’s not my fault I’ve had to perfect a number of ways for getting you out of the bed in the
morning. And besides, all your pleasant ways usually result in both of us going back to bed for a
couple of hours because you leave me too exhausted to get up.” It was a lesson she’d learned after
their wedding. After being humiliatingly late a number of times to the office those first few weeks,
Laura began a campaign to discover the quickest way to get her husband out of bed. Unfortunately,
the one that works the best can make me just as late as staying in bed in the first place, she thought.
Remington grinned. “I fail to see the problem, Mrs. Steele.”
“You wouldn’t. However,” she let the coverlets drop to the floor, “if you hurry, you can join me in
the shower.”
Donald had tiled his own kitchen a few years earlier and acted as foreman on the project. Having
seniority in the marriage department and being considered the resident expert on tile, he enjoyed
bossing his brothers-in-law around for the next two days.
His first executive decision came after Murphy cracked four porcelain tiles in a row with the wet
saw. He’d made Remington try his hand at the equipment, and the man’s patience and eye for
detail came in handy. It wasn’t long before Steele handed a curved tile over and found himself
officially in charge of cutting tiles out in the garage for the rest of the day while the other two men
laid them in the kitchen and then the bathroom.
Donald considered it a bonus that the twins’ husbands were separated, keeping rivalry and short
tempers to a minimum. Maybe I’m not being fair. So far he’d been surprised by Remington’s
good-natured attitude about the whole thing. Murphy was stressed and irritable, more so when one
of the inevitable problems cropped up during the project. Donald had been hard-pressed to stay
unflappable so as not to cause the impending father any more distress. Perhaps Steele was
following his lead.
Monday was spent grouting the tile. After a short lesson, Remington tackled the bathroom while
Donald and Murphy finished the kitchen. The twins spent the day running errands for Kate and
doing last minute Christmas shopping. Well after Kate went to bed that night, the three men
reinstalled the kitchen appliances and Laura wiped down the counters one last time.
Murphy was elated as he stood on the newly tiled floors and leaned against the counter. He thought
the kitchen looked incredible. Wearily, he took a swig from his bottle of beer. “Thanks. All of
you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
Grunting their assents, Remington and Donald flanked him as they drank from their own bottles and
surveyed their handiwork while Laura loaded the refrigerator with the groceries they’d stored in
coolers. “Kate’s going to be pleased,” she commented.
“And that’s all that matters at this point,” affirmed Murphy.
Laura grinned as she dumped the produce into a drawer. “Not really, but it’s nice that you think
that. I think we’re all here just as much for you as we are for Kate--maybe more so.”
“Don’t tell him that, love; he’ll think we like him or some such nonsense. And please, handle the
tomatoes with a little more care. We’re eating those tomorrow.”
With an arch to her brow, she stepped back from the refrigerator. “By all means, Mr. Steele, if you
don’t like the way I’m doing it, feel free.”
He strolled over, caught her by the waist and pulled her in for a kiss to a duet of groans from the
other men. “Of course, Mrs. Steele. Go admire my work in the bathroom and I’ll finish here.”
She rolled her eyes and headed for the bathroom with Donald and Murphy in tow.
By the time they returned, Remington had arranged the fridge the way he wanted it and written out
a neat list of groceries. With the kitchen in disarray, the Michaels had only stocked the bare
minimum of foodstuffs. The work crew had been living on cold sandwiches and takeout. “We’ll
get these tomorrow along with anything else you need in the meantime.”
Murphy frowned. “I don’t expect you to do all the cooking between now and Christmas, Steele.”
Remington shot him a grin. “Last time I checked, if it doesn’t involve a grill or calling out for pizza,
you and Donald are rather useless in the kitchen. Your wife can hardly reach the stove, and Laura’s
idea of dinner is salad and yogurt--which is perfectly fine if you want a light repast, but hardly
adequate for a healthy appetite.” His wife wrinkled her nose at him but didn’t argue. “Besides, you’
ll be picking up Frances, Abigail and the children tomorrow afternoon.
“I hate knowing you’re one up on me, Steele. I’m going to owe you big before this is all over.”
“’Tis called comhair, Murphy Michaels.” Irish rolled through Remington’s voice. “It’s different.
You needed help; we gave it. We’ll have need one day and you’ll come.”
* * * * *
Christmas Eve was pure, happy chaos. While Kate and Murphy picked out a Christmas tree, Laura,
Remington, Frances and Jena spent most of the day in the kitchen stuffing the freezer with food for
after the twins’ birth. Abigail claimed a foot of counter space to make her sugar cookies. After she
shooed the rest of the family away from the cooling confections, Remington taught his nieces and
nephews how to nick the cookies from under her nose while she was decorating them. Laurie Beth
proved to be the best at distracting Grandma while Mindy and Danny filched three each and split the
take with their younger sister. Abigail frowned at her remaining stock. Remington flashed his own
charming grin and purloined two more right in front of her.
Making his escape before he was caught with the goods, he joined the family in the living room
where Donald was helping Murphy anchor the freshly cut Christmas tree in its base. The aroma of
pine dancing in and out of the scent of sugar cookies was heavenly. He leaned against the doorway
and bit into his prize while watching the children dive into the buckets of decorations under Kate’s
supervision.
Murphy frowned at him from across the room. “How’d you get a cookie? Abigail chased me
away.”
“She likes me better than you.”
“Yeah, tell us something we don’t know,” Donald muttered from under the tree. “Okay, how does
that look?”
Remington stared for a minute and then walked to the other side. “Looks straight to me.”
“I’ll look. Steele wouldn’t know a straight line if it were handed to him. See? Tilt it to the left an
inch, Donald.”
“Now you’ve got it all crooked, Michaels. Come over here and see what you did.”
Murphy crossed his arms and held his ground. Steele held up the second cookie. “Bet me.”
“Shit. Kate, come tell me if the tree is straight.”
She rose heavily, with Danny and Mindy giving her a push to get vertical. “It’s too far to the left.”
Murphy pouted and Kate grinned as she nipped the cookie from Remington and took a bite.
“Hey--“
“Going to deny your pregnant sister-in-law food?”
“Ah, no.”
With a smirk, Kate turned back to the tree as Donald stood up. He eyeballed his three kids and then
shot a look to Remington. “I see cookie crumbs. Did you snitch for them too?” Steele kept an
innocent expression on his face and shrugged.
“No, Daddy. Uncle Remy taught us how to sneak them from Grandma.” Mindy was earnest as
she explained how the three of them set up their grandmother and walked away with the goodies.
“Steele, if I have to get them out of jail one night, I’m coming to you for bail money.”
“And I’ll happily pay it. But they won’t get caught if I have anything to do with it,” Steele retorted
before escaping, sans loot, back to the kitchen.
Donald shook his head and retrieved the lights from the bucket so that he and Murphy could string
them. He’d perceived over Thanksgiving that Remington hadn’t always walked the straight and
narrow. In fact, he was fairly certain his brother-in-law barely toed the line now. With a little snort,
he understood why Laura had fallen for him.
It seemed the two were just alike. Donald had seen Laura con her mother and sisters more than
once--and with an ease that was a little unnerving. She had a knack for getting in and out of trouble
with nary a scrape. Since she'd lived with that jerk, Wilson, for a year, Laura had appeared--on the
surface anyway--to become more reserved and restrained, but he’d noted a gleam in her eye from
time to time that let him know she hadn’t really changed. Underlying all of that was a capacity for
loyalty and a capability for love that ran deep and true.
Unlike any other man she’d dated, Remington wasn’t afraid of her. In fact, he seemed to relish
every aspect of her personality. A subtle current flowed between them, and it had taken him a while
to understand what it was. Frances had clued him in one day not too long ago. The pair constantly
challenged each other--both physically and intellectually.
Whereas Kate and Murphy had solidarity of purpose and soldiered after their wants and desires with
determination, Laura and Remington danced down the path, wandering off and coming back as their
wishes took them. It was a measure of their love and trust that they allowed each other the freedom
to find their own way within the relationship.
Donald doubted they would ever be a conventional couple. Already he could see the traditional
husband and wife roles were hopelessly tangled. Laura was a workaholic, played the piano with
flair and had an eye for making a house a home. Remington worked more frequently than he liked,
cooked like a gourmet chef and had an ability to play that rivaled any child’s. Ironically, they
managed their finances together--she had a knack for the day-to-day dealings and he had an eye for
investments. Laura had even talked him and Murphy into putting money in one of her husband’s
pet projects, and it was paying off nicely for all of them.
He grinned to himself as he surveyed the family assembling in the living room to decorate the
Christmas tree. Frances was lovely, as always, and she gave him that small secret smile he adored.
How three sisters could be so different was a wonder. How all three of them found happiness was a
miracle.
* * * * *
Laura missed a Midnight Mass at Christmas only once--last year--and it wasn’t by choice. As a
child, she remembered dressing in her pajamas just as Laurie Beth was, opening a single gift from
her parents before getting into the car, and listening in wonder to the beautiful carols in the hour
before Mass. None of that had changed in the ensuing years. Frances had carried on the traditions
for another generation, and the consistency comforted and thrilled Laura.
The whispers and chuckles among her family hadn’t changed either. They all laughed as one of the
unborn twins got hiccups, and Kathleen’s tummy bounced every few seconds for nearly twenty
minutes. When the rest of the family quit laughing, the baby would hiccup again, her belly would
jump and someone would get the giggles again, setting everyone off once more.
Laura tangled her fingers with Remington’s and rested her head on his shoulder. He shifted until his
arm was around her and dropped a kiss in her hair.
Remington sat quietly in the pew and took in his relatives with no little awe. Regardless of her
faults, Abigail had raised three daughters who understood the value of family. He hadn’t realized
that Laura had these kinds of connections when he’d married her. Oh, he’d met all of her family at
one time or another, but it was only at Thanksgiving that he’d realized how attached they were. In
spite of their differences, each of the women still reached out to one another.
Laurie Beth crawled into his lap and fell asleep shortly before midnight. As he wrapped his arm
securely around her, the familiar smell of frankincense filled the air as the priest made his blessings.
While Remington recited the prayers and sang hymns he’d learned long ago, the rhythm of the
Mass--nearly unchanged for centuries--brought him an odd comfort he hadn’t anticipated. The
priest reminded them of the miracle at hand and the new beginnings to come. He couldn’t help
looking over at Kate’s belly and then to Laura. Her smile filled him with warmth and he could only
wonder, what have I done to deserve this? For the rest of Mass, only one short prayer kept circling
in his head: Thank you, God.
The next morning, shrieks of delight punctuated the air as the three children scampered into the
living room, waking Laura and Remington from a dead sleep on the pull-out sofa in the living room.
Having been warned by Frances, they’d both taken the precaution of wearing pajamas the night
before.
Remington tried unsuccessfully to bury his head under the pillow as the rest of the adults wandered
into the room, but Danny pulled it away and began poking at him to get up. “Come ON, Uncle
Remy. It’s Christmas and your bed is in the way. UP!”
Reluctantly, he rolled off the bed and grabbed for his dressing gown. He arched a brow at Laura.
“I don’t suppose I get tea, do I?”
“Not yet.” She grinned and kissed him on the cheek before picking up the pillows so that Murphy
could shove the bed back into the sofa. Remington stole one away from her and tried to go back to
sleep on one of the armchairs, but Laura directed the children’s attention to him.
They pounced. “Unca Remy, Unca Remy, it’s Christmas! Wake up!” Laurie Beth yelled, making
him wince at the volume. He sat up and scrubbed his face as his wife sat between his feet on the
floor in front of him. He looked around and noted Frances sitting with Donald and Murphy rubbing
Kate’s back. Abigail was on the floor with the children and helped them pass out presents.
A sheer flurry of paper and ribbons later, the kids sprawled out on the floor with their new toys.
Laura noted that Remington was still a little dumb-founded by the whole gift-giving process. She
wasn’t sure which surprised him more--the apparent glee the family had for the sketches he’d done
for each of them and she had framed or the stack of gifts he had in his lap that reflected his own
interests and wishes.
She meticulously opened her own gift from him to find a unique bracelet of three wide strands of
platinum set with rubies and diamonds across the top. On the back he’d had engraved, To LS from
RS, First Christmas 1986.
Kate’s jaw dropped. “Where did you find something like that, Remington?”
He shrugged and tugged at his ear. “I had an artist make it up from some sketches I jotted down.”
Laura bit her lip while he leaned over and fastened it across her wrist. “It’s beautiful,” she said
softly.
He stroked her hair once. “Only for you, love.” He leaned back and looked inside the package she’
d given him. A framed, black-and-white photograph lay nestled in the tissue paper. The young
woman in the picture was impossibly beautiful, with long dark hair and light eyes. Her elegant
fingers were clasped in front of her, and her face was lit up as she smiled at the photographer.
Remington stared for a long time before dipping his fingers inside and retrieving the photo. He
slipped it from the frame and turned it over. He recognized Daniel’s calligraphy, Mary Claire--1952.
“How--“ he nearly whispered the word in awe as he took another look.
Laura answered in similar tones. “I contacted some of Daniel’s friends to see if he left anything with
them. One of them, a Bill Jones, found this photograph and sent it to me. He said Daniel left it
with him before he was sent up in 1953 and never asked for it back. He'd stashed it in a box and
forgotten about it until I called.”
“Jonesy. I remember we stayed with him from time to time when I was younger.”
“He remembered you. Said you were ‘slick, too good-looking and wild as a March hare.’"
“He’d know.”
Abigail spoke up then. “What did you get from Laura, Remington dear?”
“A photograph. Of … of my mother.”
“May I see it?”
“Of course.” Slowly, he handed it to her.
Abigail looked it over and then glanced at Remington. “She’s lovely and you look just like her.
After I learned Daniel was your father, I never could see you in him. Now I know why.”
Kate interjected, “You knew his dad?”
Her mother blushed and simpered. “I did. Such a charming man. And his villa in the south of
France is lovely.”
All three of her daughters wore identical expressions of shock although Laura looked a little green as
well. Frances recovered first. “You … and Remington’s father?”
“Well, we met through Laura and Remington, of course. They weren’t even dating then. Oh, close
your mouths, girls. It was just a summer thing. We had our fun and went our separate ways. I had
you girls here and Daniel wanted to stay in Europe. He didn’t want Remington to feel torn between
him and Laura.” She leaned over to give the photograph back to him.
Now Remington was surprised as well as he took it from her. “Daniel said that?”
“He thought Laura was the best thing that had happened to you, dear. She went toe to toe with him
over you and he was delighted.”
Laura’s eyes narrowed at her husband. “You knew about them,” she accused in a harsh whisper.
In a low voice he answered, “Ah. Hmm. I did. I didn’t think you really wanted to know.” He
pulled her into his lap and kissed her neck.
She tried to dodge his lips. “Are you trying to distract me again?”
“Is it working?”
She turned to him. “Of course. Merry Christmas, Remington.”
“Happy Christmas, Mrs. Steele.” He lowered his mouth to hers but not before taking another long
look at his mother. “Thank you, Laura.”
* * * * *
They flew home with Abigail on the twenty-seventh after Kate’s doctor assured her she was still at
least a week away from delivering the babies. The Pipers planned to stay for one more day.
* * * * *
Remington dropped the luggage on the floor of their foyer. Laura had already ditched her share in
the living room and collapsed on the creamy leather sofa. He stretched out, laying his head in her
lap.
“Laura, I think you’ve accomplished something unique, something I never thought possible.” He
closed his eyes.
“What’s that?”
“I have absolutely no desire to cook dinner, watch a movie, or even nibble on your toes, delightful
though they may be.”
“What is it you want to do?”
“Stay right here and sleep for a day or two. Possibly three.”
“Wish granted. As long as you promise not to move.” She tilted her head against the sofa and
closed her eyes. She loved her family; she really did. But dealing with them for nearly a week was
exhausting. Remington had his hands full with Abigail most of the last three days as he kept her
occupied and not annoying her daughters. Laura had borne the brunt of Kate’s frustration with her
final weeks of pregnancy.
Of course, the phone rang.
Laura slid out from under Remington and fumbled for the phone on the side table. “Murphy? …
She’s what? … I thought she had another week to go? … Yeah, what do doctors know anyway?
Let me think for a minute. It’s four o’clock now; we can probably get a flight this evening and be
there late tonight. Will you be at the house or the hospital by then? … I can do that. No, don’t
worry about picking us up. We’ll rent a car at the airport or catch a taxi. Can I talk to her?”
Laura didn’t sound worried, so Remington kept his eyes closed.
“Hi, Kate.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “Sure, we just got back. … No, no problem at
all. I told Murphy we’ll be there tonight. Think you can hold out that long? … Did you call Mom?
… Hmmm, maybe I’ll ask Remington to talk to her. I think she likes him better than the rest of us
anyway. … Okay, let me off the phone so I can get a flight booked. … I know, sis. I won’t miss
it. Love you, Kate.” She hung up the phone. “How does spending the night in Denver sound?”
“Like a bad western movie.”
“Kate’s in labor and wants us there. We have to go back.” She started punching buttons on the
phone. It said something about their lives that they had two different airlines on speed dial.
“Ah, Laura, don’t you think I should stay here and take care of the agency while you are gone?”
Remington scratched his nose. “It’s been a whole week. I mean, there’s paperwork to tend to, skip-
traces to run.”
She looked at him quizzically. “Are you serious? For one, it’s after Christmas and the office will be
dead as a doornail. Two, it's Kate and Murphy--they’re having the twins, and three, I need you to
handle Mother.”
At that moment, Remington regretted being the only male in the family that seemed to be able to
charm Abigail Holt. “I’ll call her from here. She’ll feel better about not being there if I’m not there
either.”
Incredulous, Laura laid down the telephone. “You don’t want to go?”
“I’ll just be in the way of the happy family. You need to be with Kate. I’m certain Murphy would
prefer that I stay here.” He shrugged his shoulder in discomfort.
Stunned, Laura could only gape at him across the living room. “What has gotten into you? They’re
having the babies and they’ve asked us to come.”
“No, Laura. They asked you to come. Kate wants you there. Go. I’ll be here when you get
back.” He dropped a kiss on her temple and carried his luggage to the bedroom. Dazed and too
pressed for time to deal with her husband, she dialed the phone and booked a flight for one to
Denver before frantically repacking her bag and calling for a taxi.
In her fatigue, anger and worry, Laura promptly fell asleep on the plane. Three hours later, the
plane touched down in Denver where she flagged a cab and arrived at the hospital in forty minutes.
She dashed through the doors of Labor and Delivery to find her sister slowly pacing the floor with
Murphy holding her hand.
“Excellent timing, Kate,” Laura said from the doorway as she set her carry-on bag on the chair.
“My apologies. Apparently, the babies didn’t know what the doctor was talking about. The
contractions started about thirty minutes after you guys left for the airport. Frances is holding down
the fort and will be here in the morning. She walked with me all day.”
Laura hugged her sister and kissed her on the cheek. “Details, Katy. Give me details,” she ordered.
“I’m only at four centimeters dilated and around fifty percent effaced, but since I’m lugging around
two of these little hitchhikers, they want me to stick around. They tell me it’s going to be a long
night.” She rubbed the small of her back as another contraction started.
“Where’s your lesser half?” asked Murphy. He brushed away Kate’s hands and placed pressure on
the area.
“Home.” Laura kept her eyes on Kate as she breathed through another contraction.
“But surely--“ Murphy was startled to see the faint sheen of water in his old partner’s eyes. She
waved him off with a slight shake of her head. Not here. Not in front of Kate. Murphy nodded
and didn’t ask.
“Tell me what I’m looking at, Murphy.” Laura pointed to the machines hooked up to her sister.
Murphy gave her a quick hug and a succinct explanation of the charts and graphs on the machines
as the contraction receded.
Kate took Laura’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here.” The identical twins exchanged tremulous smiles.
Remington poked aimlessly at his kung pao chicken that night, wondering what the hell he was
thinking. Why didn’t I just get on the plane and go?
Throughout the long night, Kate tried to sleep in snatches between increasingly frequent
contractions. Murphy and Laura took turns sleeping in the rock hard chair and rubbing her back.
Laura’s own back ached with sympathetic pains, a phenomenon that had occurred from time to time
when the twins were younger, but she ignored them.
Remington paced as he worked out in his head the reason for his panic upon hearing Kate was in
labor. It certainly was not a surprise she wanted her twin sister by her side, and Laura had
discussed the logistics with him more than once. He wished that, just one time, he had someone he
could call for advice. And then he realized that he did. He punched the numbers into the phone.
“Mildred?”
“Chief? Is everything okay? It’s midnight. Is Laura okay?” she babbled as Remington realized he
woke her from a sound sleep.
“Ah, I’m sorry, Mildred. I shouldn’t have called. I’ll speak with you tomorrow, eh?”
Her voice became firm as she detected the hesitation in his tone. “Mr. Steele, it must have been
important for you to pick up the phone. Spill it, bub.”
“Ah, Laura won’t be in tomorrow. Her sister, Kate, went into labor and she flew out to Denver a
few hours ago. I thought you might need to know--in case I’m not perfectly on time in the
morning.” Remington tried to be lighthearted, hoping to play it off.
But Mildred poked her needle sharp wit into that fantasy. “Why aren’t you with her, Boss?”
“It’s a family thing, Mildred. Laura doesn’t need me there. I’ll just … be in the way. You know,
babies, hospitals, family … that sort of thing.” He shrugged even though Mildred couldn’t see the
movement.
“Mr. Steele, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, you are Laura’s family now.” Remington stood
with his mouth open, trying to think up a reply that made sense. Even one that didn’t make sense.
Mildred heard the silence. “Go get on that plane, Boss. I’ll bet Laura didn’t think twice about
whether or not you were going. So go.”
Remington held the phone for the longest time. In the end he said simply, "Thank you, Mildred. I’
ll see you in a few days.”
Not wanting to disturb Fred at this late hour, Remington called a cab as well. The minutes flew by
while he carefully repacked his luggage. Damn. He forgot to call Abigail. He saw from his watch
that it was nearly one in the morning. Well, this just happens to be the night for phone calls.
By seven in the morning, Kate was irritable, sweaty and ready to personally pull the little tykes from
her body if they didn’t make their appearance soon. Murphy and Laura were very careful not to
make any comments about their own weariness from the long night. Kate might kill them both.
After the obstetrician took a quick peek at her progress and came up with eight and fully effaced,
Laura borrowed Murphy’s car to make a fast breakfast run. Eggs and bacon on a dry biscuit would
have to do this morning. Remington would be appalled. Thinking of him, she scrubbed at her face,
trying not to let the weariness of the night and her anger at him overwhelm her. Today is a happy
day and the only tears allowed are tears of joy, she told herself as she started the car and hunted
for the nearest fast food restaurant.
By the time she returned, Kate was pissy about being denied food. Laura handed Murphy his
breakfast and shooed him out of the room. “I’m the one doing all the work here. Why can’t I have
food?” Kathleen snapped.
“I don’t think the babies need anything extra to impede their progress.” Laura was used to her sister’
s waspish remarks by now.
“Who cares what they think? This whole pregnancy has been about them. I need food, now! Oh,
oh, damn … here comes another one.” Kate squeezed her eyes shut and grabbed Laura’s hand.
She went somewhere deep inside herself for a couple of minutes before opening her eyes and giving
her twin a half-smile. “Thank you, Laura. I wanted you to be here for this. Do you remember
when we used to plan double graduations, double weddings and double pregnancies when we were
teen-agers?”
“Things didn’t quite work out that way, did they,” Laura reflected.
“Well, we both graduated from Stanford anyway. And got married only a couple of months apart.
Hold on--” she shut her eyes again while Laura breathed with her. “I’m going to regret saying this,”
she added when the contraction passed, “but I wish Mom was here too.”
“I’ll never tell,” Laura promised. She looked up at the monitor. “Kate? These are coming close
together. I’m going to buzz the nurse.”
“Okay.” She started to pant again.
Moments later the nurse flipped the sheets back to check her progress. “All done. It’s time to push,
Mrs. Michaels.” Laura went to the door and yelled for Murphy. He jogged down the corridor
behind the doctor and took his place by Kate’s head. He winked at Laura. She shot him a quizzical
look as she got in position to help Kate as the doctor instructed.
“Mom!” Laura gasped when Abigail popped her head into the room.
“Hello, darlings--no, you stay there, Laura. Your sister needs you right now.”
“How did you get here?” She held Kate’s straining body, supporting her leg.
“Well, didn’t you send Remington to come get me? He said you flew right out the door and told
him to wait for me. That was sweet, dear. How are you, Kate?”
“A little … busy … Mom,” she panted in between the contractions.
“That’s good, dear. I’ll be waiting outside with Remington. Laura, you’ll come get me if you need
anything?”
“Remington’s here?”
“Yes, dear. Didn’t you hear me say he came to get me?”
“Mom, Laura--I’m having a couple of babies here!” Pure sarcasm dripped in Kate’s voice.
“Sorry, Katy.” Laura was instantly contrite. Abigail patted her youngest daughter on the head and
disappeared out the door.
An hour and a half later, Kate was yelling at Murphy and cursing him for touching her in the first
place. He was growing paler by the moment. It was harder than he thought to watch his adorable
wife labor through transition. He kissed her hand. “Just a few more pushes and the first one will be
here, Katy.”
“I don’t want to push. I’m done. You do this.” She gave Murphy a hard look and noted the
glazed eyes. Then she yelled at Laura. “Where’s Mom? I want Mom here. Is this supposed to be
happening? Mom!” she screamed.
Abigail popped her head inside the door. “Yes, Katy-dear?”
“Hold my hand, Mom,” she ordered. “Murphy, out. If you pass out on me right now, I am going
to be seriously pissed. Go.”
Murphy figured he’d better listen to his wife; he was feeling rather lightheaded. He shot the doctor
a nervous look. She held up three fingers and mouthed "three minutes" at him. He nodded and
stepped outside the hospital room.
Remington was pacing the floor, trying his best to listen/not listen to what was happening inside the
room. Every time Kate yelled, he winced. He whirled around when the door opened. Murphy
sagged against the door frame, taking deep breaths. He staggered slightly and Remington shoved
him into a chair and forced his head between his legs. “Breathe, mate. Now’s not the time to cut
and run.”
“Not planning on it. Kate threw me out. Said she didn’t want me to pass out on her. I’ve got two-
and-a-half minutes.”
“Smart girl.” Remington eyed the minute hand revolving around his watch. Sixty seconds later, he
yanked Murphy up. “Time to go in, old chap.” He shoved Murphy through the door and then had
to catch his brother-in-law as he nearly swooned. Remington bopped him on the back of the head.
“It’s not your turn. Go to Kate.” Murphy stood up and took a deep breath before clapping
Remington on the shoulder in thanks. He moved to Kate’s side to help support her straining body.
Remington suddenly had an unimpeded view; transfixed, he froze by the door. Laura sat behind
Kate, supporting her as she pushed the first of the babies from her womb. Murphy and Abigail
stood on either side, helping her by holding her legs in the process. With a determined groan, Kate
leaned forward and the baby slid into the doctor’s waiting hands.
“We have a boy!” The doctor swabbed the tiny infant’s face and clamped the umbilical cord before
laying the baby on his mother’s chest. “Dad, care to do the honors?” He held out a pair of scissors
as Kate stroked her newborn son.
Murphy's eyes glistened as he snipped the cord. The nurse swiftly wrapped the infant in a blanket
and handed him to the new father to hold. Kate wanted to reach for her son, but another
contraction gripped her and Laura leaned in for support. Murphy looked at his baby and his wife,
confused as to which one to attend first.
He looked around, not wanting to relinquish the newborn to the hospital staff. Irrationally, he feared
the nurses would take him away before Kate had a chance to hold him. When Kate bore down
again, he glanced around wildly in confusion--Laura and Abigail were helping Kate, and Remington
was still frozen by the door. He crossed to his brother-in-law and placed the babe in his arms.
“Don’t drop him. And don’t let anyone have him yet,” he ordered before going back to his wife’s
side.
Remington stared down at the tiny little boy, still damp from birth and beginning to fuss at all the
confusion. “Shh, shh, little one. Mum and Da will be here soon.” He swayed with the child,
mesmerized by the squinty bluish eyes and red face. He murmured more nonsense and his nephew
stared at him, calmed by the cadence of his voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he realized Kate
was pushing another child into the world. In what seemed like seconds, Murphy was snipping the
cord and holding his second son.
Quietly, Laura eased out from behind her sister and took her mother’s hand while Remington
regained enough sense to deposit his precious cargo into Kate’s arms. The three retreated to the
hallway to give the new parents a few minutes alone with their twin boys.
Abigail hugged Laura and kissed Remington on the cheek. “Thank you for bringing me. It was a
very sweet thing to do. Coffee, anyone? No? I’ll be back in a few minutes then.”
Remington wiped away the tears from Laura’s cheeks, then realized his own were damp as well.
“I’m sorry, Laura. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
She nodded and leaned against him in a tight hug. “Thank you for being here … and for bringing
Mom. But I’ll never admit I said that. She’s Kate’s problem now.” She wiped away her remaining
tears and chuckled. “You looked as if someone hit you over the head with a brick when you
walked into the room.”
“I’ll never be able to look at Kate the same way again. Ah, love, don’t remind Murphy. He might
pop me a good one just for the pleasure of it.”
“Maybe, maybe not. You realize how much trust he showed you, giving you his son?”
Remington quipped, “He knew I would be too terrified to run. There are some chairs at the end of
the hallway. Care to sit for a few minutes?” She nodded and Remington pulled her into his lap.
They watched the doctors and nurses pile out of the room, pushing equipment in front of them.
Laura snuggled her head into her husband’s shoulder, breathing in his cologne mixed with his own
clean scent. Thankful for his presence, she began to doze lightly in his arms.
Uncomfortable in the hard chair, Remington considered it part of his penance for his transgression.
The rest would involve explanations to his wife. Explanations he still didn’t quite have. He closed
his own eyes and rested his head against the wall.
Murphy found them that way an hour later. The nurses were moving Kate into a new room, and he
was to follow the babies to the nursery. He stood a few feet away, not sure if he should wake
them, when Remington opened his eyes. “An heir and a spare. Not bad, Michaels, not bad at all.”
He grinned. “Want to see them?”
Remington glanced down at Laura, who was stirring from her nap. “I think I know the answer to
that.”
“To what?” she said sleepily.
“To whether or not you want to see the babies.”
Her eyes popped open, registering her brother-in-law. “We can see them? Oh!” She stepped into
his embrace and hugged him hard. “Congratulations, Murphy. Where are they?”
Both men chuckled. “This way.” The proud new father indicated the nursery.
Laura pressed her nose to the glass. “They’re perfect. I can’t wait to hold them.” Murphy was
inside, assisting the nurse with changing the boys’ diapers and taking measurements. He had the
silliest look of satisfaction on his face. Remington watched with his hands jammed in his pockets.
He eventually pulled out a toothpick and chewed on it.
Her mother stepped in between them. “They look just like your grandpa, Laura.” Laura frowned.
She thought they looked like little miniature Murphys with their blond hair, dark blue eyes
notwithstanding. They had the same slant to their brows and cleft in their chin as their dad. “Yes,
that little cleft is straight from my father. He would be quite proud.” Abigail sounded quite certain
of herself.
“He would, wouldn’t he?” Remington pressed a kiss to Abigail’s cheek. He winked at Laura.
“Mom, is Kate settled yet?”
“Yes, dear. She’s in room 212.”
Laura found her sister’s room while Remington and her mom continued to watch the boys and
Murphy through the nursery window. Kate smiled, her whole face lighting up as Laura came in.
She opened her arms and Laura crawled onto the bed next to her. They stayed that way, forehead
to forehead, until Murphy and Remington arrived, each pushing a bassinet. Abigail and the Piper
family came in after them, and there was much shuffling as the family carved out personal space in
the tiny room.
Murphy handed the babies to the twins, introducing them to Laura in turn. “The heir is Aiden
Murphy Michaels; the spare is Ian Sean Michaels.” He nudged Remington with a wink.
“Hi, guys.” Laura took Ian and kissed him on the forehead. His sweet baby scent filled her with
contentment as she snuggled him closer. She and Kate unwrapped the boys, comparing feet and
hands. “They’re identical,” she announced.
“That’s what the doctor said,” Kate agreed. “See? They both have the same birthmark on their
thighs.” While the twins admired the twins, Abigail pulled a small camera out of her purse and
snapped their picture. The two men couldn’t help sidling up to their wives and peeking at the boys.
She took that picture too.
When Frances absconded with Aiden, Laura glanced up at Remington and smiled. “Do you want to
hold him?”
“Ah, Laura.” He tried to warn her off.
“Come on, you’ve already had a crack at Aiden. Here, have Ian.” She put the tiny bundle into
Remington’s arms. He sat with the child in the armchair next to Kate’s bed, taking in the red,
scrunched-up face and the slightly gaping mouth as the child slept. The newborn was hard to hold
as he rolled up like a pill bug, and it took some shifting on Steele’s part to get the infant settled
against his chest where he could cradle the boy’s tiny body in his long hands.
The rest of the Holt clan chattered in the hospital room, with Abigail and Frances exchanging war
stories and advice. From her perch near Kate, only Laura noted Remington’s stricken countenance
as he gently patted Ian’s bottom. She eased off the bed and sat on the arm of his chair, letting her
body block her family’s view of him. In a low voice, she called his name. Her heart clenched at the
sheen in his blue eyes when he looked up.
“Why, Laura?” he croaked.
“Why what?”
“There isn’t a child in this room that I wouldn’t take in and care for as my own. I’d be a terrible
father, but at least I would give a damn.” His voice was sharper than he intended, and the rest of
the family looked over in surprise. Not seeing their reaction, he scooted Ian nearer to his shoulder
and stroked the boy’s back. The infant heaved a sigh and jammed his eyes more firmly shut--if
such a thing were possible. Remington dropped his voice, but not low enough for the clan to miss
his words in the ensuing quiet. “Not one, Laura. Not a single one of those bloody cousins of mine
cared for anything more than the few pounds the government gave them for keeping me.” She
touched his brow and drew the lock of hair away from his face before dropping her hand down to
caress his cheek. “I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, Laura, much less a child who only wants to know
where he belongs. All for being born on the wrong side of the blankets.”
Abigail surprised them by speaking up. “Remington, dear, some people only know one way to live.
In order to be happy, they have to live by certain rules, and their lives can only go down one narrow
path. And because those kinds of people never break the rules, they don’t understand that
happiness and love can happen anyway, and perhaps, in a better way. It’s not your failing; it’s
theirs. But perhaps they can be pitied, for they miss out on a large part of life.”
Laura turned around in shock. “You dare say those things, Mother? When I’ve lived my whole life
knowing I didn’t fit into your mold, into your narrow path of what you think a woman should be?”
“Oh, Laura, use that brain of yours. Trying to get you to do things my way had nothing to do with
forcing you into a different life and everything to keep you from making the same mistakes your
father made.”
“His mistakes?” she echoed faintly.
Abigail glanced around and pointedly noted the three bright-eyed children behind her. Taking the
hint, Donald immediately handed Mindy a few dollars from his wallet. “Kids, you can get a snack
from the vending machine in the waiting room. Laurie Beth, listen to your sister, and all of you
come right back.” A chorus of whoops and giggles accompanied the children out the door.
She continued, “Dear, no one was harder on himself that he. I fell in love with him because he was
so terribly bright and passionate; he insisted on forging his own path in everything. But he
demanded too much of himself and held himself to a standard of perfection that no human could
attain. He constantly disappointed himself.” She gave a brief sigh. “There came a day that he
finally threw everything away because he thought he was a complete failure. He did it by doing the
one thing I wouldn’t tolerate--he had an affair.”
Abigail rose and took Aiden from Frances. Very matter-of-factly, she said, “Laura, if you want to
know what will make Remington leave you, it’s your going to bed with another man. It’s the only
thing he won’t forgive.” He nodded involuntarily when her eyes met his. She moved to stand near
him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry your family wasn’t made up of more
broadminded people. You’re a welcome addition to our family, and I’m happy to know that Laura
has someone who loves her.”
She turned to her middle daughter. “Laura, dear, all those years I saw you following in your
father’s footsteps and becoming just as miserable as he. Since Frances was so happy, I thought
perhaps if you were more like her, you would find a way to be content too.”
With another sigh, Abigail reflected, “I always thought if I loved your father enough that he would
learn to be happy with himself. But my love wasn’t enough. In his mind, happiness could only be
had one way--and life isn’t like that. Like your family, Remington, it’s his failing. And see all he
lost out on in the end?” She waved a hand around to indicate her three daughters and the children
tumbling back into the room.
“We can’t change our past, Remington. But we can be thankful that we know it’s not the only way
to live life, and we can choose differently for our future. Each of my girls took a different path, and
each of them has found someone who respects and loves her. And they all seem to be quite
content.” She cooed at the baby in her arms. “Really, that’s all any parent can hope for. Daniel
certainly wanted it for you. Now pass the baby around, dear. Frances hasn’t had a chance to hold
him yet.”
Later that day, the Steeles found a nearby hotel where they could get a decent night’s sleep before
having one last visit with the new family and heading home the following afternoon. Not caring that
it was only four-fifteen, Laura stripped out of her clothes, showered and crawled into bed.
Remington followed suit, but she was sound asleep by the time he joined her.
Somewhere around midnight, she woke first. Without moving, she watched her husband slumber
while she reflected on her mother’s assertions. Her mom wasn’t wrong about any of it although the
fact that she’d pegged a couple of points about Remington that Laura had missed annoyed her.
Or maybe she hadn’t. Somehow Laura had always known, even when she and Remington weren’t
“committed,” that if she crossed the line and slept with someone else, he would have been gone.
His possessiveness was a very real thing that she contended with often enough. He wasn’t jealous
exactly, just afraid of not having her.
More than ever, she was grateful for Remington’s constant challenges to her psyche. He never let
her stand on principle unless she could firmly defend her stance. There was no getting away with
arbitrary decisions, just because that was the way "things were supposed to be." Each time she fell
short of her own standards, he took it in stride and showed her how she was a better person because
of it. He used her own logic to make her see other possibilities--something her mother hadn’t been
able to do with her father.
Laura understood that he was able to do these things because he had so few absolutes in his own
life. He knew far better than most that everything from personality to moral standards was
negotiable, depending on the circumstances. The principles he did have were grounded only in his
own experience and choices, certainly not his upbringing. In fact, perhaps the only constants in his
life so far had been Daniel and herself. It was no wonder he had a tendency to panic whenever he
thought he was losing her--the time in London after losing the agency license, the whole INS fiasco,
and now this. Thank heavens, this time it was on a much smaller scale.
She wondered if he understood that, while she loved her mother and sisters deeply, her first loyalty
was to him. Unconsciously, she sighed and Remington woke to the soft sound.
As usual, he snapped awake. When he saw Laura lying next to him, he groaned and rolled to his
back, covering his face with his hands.
She leaned up on an elbow. “That’s not your usual reaction to me when you wake up. Was it
something I said?”
He snorted with laughter and scrubbed at his face before pulling his hands away. “Laura.” He
turned his head and furrowed his brow at her, taking in the warmth in her brown eyes. “You’re not
angry with me.”
“I never am when I understand the problem, Mr. Steele.”
With two fingers, he reached over and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Why is it that
sometimes I have the feeling that you know me better than I do?”
Catching his fingers before he could draw them away, she kissed the tips. “You usually give me a
fair number of clues to follow.”
He shook his head as he held her hand. “Only you would say that, love.” He’d built a life out of
keeping himself elusive and unreadable, letting others see only what they expected. Yet Laura could
reach deep into his mind and pick out the very details that unraveled the mystery of him. And no
matter what she found, she accepted him with aplomb.
The sheets rustled as he shifted to her side, connecting his body to hers from shoulder to toes.
Without a word he buried his face in her hair, needing her in a most fundamental way. And when
he pulled back to look at her face, he brushed her cheek with his thumb. “I know I don’t tell you
this very often, Laura. Not nearly often enough. I love you.”
With the sly smile he adored, she slid across his body until she straddled him. Lacing her hands
with his, she said, “I know you love me. You tell me every," she kissed his forehead, "single," his
cheek, "day,” and captured his lips with her own.
24 April 2009
Sunday, 14 December 1986 (Tile floors & Christmas)
“Laura, I’m going to kill him.”
“Why?”
“Because Christmas is a week and half away, and I still don’t have floors in the kitchen or the
bathroom. Murphy’s been on a case nearly day and night since Thanksgiving. How am I supposed
to host Christmas when I don’t have a house?”
“It’s that time of year, Katy. For some reason, that makes everyone nervous. Things will settle
down after Christmas Day. We don’t mind the fact you don’t have floors.”
“Laura! I mind! I can’t wait until after the holidays for floors. I’m carrying twins, remember?
The doctor thinks I won’t make it until January at this rate. I knew this would happen. I’m going
to have concrete floors, new babies and no husband in sight.”
“Have you thought of hiring someone?”
“Laura--no matter how annoyed I am, the insult of calling a contractor at this point might irreparably
damage our marriage. Never come between a man and his projects. It’s like a war zone and there’s
no such thing as friendly fire.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Throw myself on your mercy.”
“Mine?”
“I’ve already talked to Donald, and he’s willing to come up on the Saturday before Christmas and
help Murphy finish the job before Mom, Frances and the kids come in on Tuesday. But he said
Remington has to help if it’s going to get done in a weekend.”
“Remington? Tiling floors? You’re kidding me, right?”
“Please, Laura? I need your help on this one.”
“You might be causing irreparable harm to my marriage, Katy.”
“He’s good with his hands, right?”
“I’ll be sure to tell him that while I explain how you talked me into this, Steamroller.”
* * * * *
“I’m in.”
“What? No arguments, no remarks about Remington Steele not getting his hands dirty?”
“No. Should there be?”
“Hmm. Well, no. I’ll change our flights then.”
“Besides, Murphy will owe me for this.”
“And therein lies the answer.”
* * * * *
As the Steeles and Donald walked in from the jetway, Murphy took in Remington’s casual elegance,
even while wearing a denim shirt, boots and jeans. He shook his head as he caught Laura by the
waist for a quick squeeze and kiss on the temple. “Steele, you’re going to get dirty today. I’m sure
it’s going to cramp your style. Donald, good to see you. Thanks for coming.” He’d learned by
now that the best way to get a dig into Remington was to talk fast and keep the conversation going.
Laura helped by asking, “Where’s Katy?”
“At home and annoyed that she won’t fit in the car with the three of you and the luggage.” At the
baggage carousel, Murphy winced as the trio began pulling off boxes and suitcases. “How long are
you guys planning to stay?”
Donald shot him a hard look. “My wife insisted that if she has to bring Abigail and the kids by
herself, I had to bring all the gifts.” Wisely, the blonde said nothing, merely nodded in
understanding.
“Murphy, I hear your bride is rather disgruntled at the moment.” Steele arched his brow at him.
“Tell me about it. She’s been giving me hell since I chipped out the first tile.”
“Perhaps. I must say, your timing couldn’t be more perfect for home renovation. It’s the holidays
and your wife is ready to give birth--what a wonderful time to upgrade the kitchen!”
“Steele, in this instance, there isn’t anything you can say to me that Kate hasn't already expounded
on in extraordinary detail.”
“Well, then, I’ll consider the topic properly covered.”
The three men spent Saturday afternoon and evening clearing out the last of the kitchen and the
bathroom while the twins began giving the house a thorough cleaning. Despite the frequent breaks
for Kate to rest and put her feet up, they made good progress on the upstairs. Murphy’s sister,
Jena, on break from college, showed up with pizza for dinner and spent the rest of the evening
working with the two sisters.
By nightfall, Laura knew exactly why Remington had readily volunteered for the weekend. It was
nearly midnight when they snuggled on the double bed in the nursery, enjoying the privacy they
would have until Abigail arrived and they were bumped to the sleeper sofa in the living room. She
yawned and turned in his arms, finding the hollow of his shoulder where she liked to rest her head.
Automatically, his arm came around to anchor her in place while their legs intertwined.
“How’s the knee?” He massaged it gently, knowing that she’d graduated from a full leg brace to an
elastic one earlier in the week.
“Not bad. It aches, but I think it’s from all the exercise, not because the ligaments are pulling. It’s
probably a good thing that Kate needs a break every half hour. I can stop when I need and not feel
guilty. Well, almost--Jena’s making us look like slackers.”
“The boundless energy of youth.” He slid his hand around to her backside and stroked the flesh
there.
Laura shivered and fit her body closer to his. “I do hope you are not implying that I’m anything
other than young and energetic.”
“Perhaps you should prove it to me. I’ve been--how do you say it--male bonding over tools and
dirt. I could use some female companionship to balance my day.”
“I’ve got a question first.”
Remington shifted so that he could place his lips along her neck. He brushed her hair back with one
hand. “What is it?”
“I knew you had a thing for old ladies, but I didn’t realize it was for pregnant women too. Or is it
just Kate?” She felt him freeze for a moment and then relax again.
“A bit of both, perhaps. A woman ripening with child is beautiful in any case. But Kate--Good
Lord, Laura, she’s your identical twin. I can’t help looking at her and thinking of you. Murphy’s
already bopped me on the head for staring at his wife. It was rather embarrassing.”
“He didn’t tell me that.”
“No, he wouldn’t. But he did tell me to go get my own wife pregnant if I wanted one that much.”
Laura smiled into his hair. “Do you want one?”
He froze again and pulled away to look at her face. “What are you saying?”
She laughed. “Not that. No, I’m not pregnant. I’m asking if you want a child--someday.”
“I do, Laura. But not yet, I think.” His hand resumed its stroking and she shivered again.
“Why?”
“You are full of questions tonight.”
“You’re rarely in the mood to answer them.”
“You know me too well, love. Perhaps that’s it then. I’m still enjoying being with you. And
perhaps it’s selfish, but I’m not quite ready to share.”
“I don’t think it’s selfish at all. I think it’s sensible. After all the time we spent getting here, it’s nice
being here.”
“That it is, love.” His tone changed from serious to seductive. “There are definitely places I like
being. For example--“
Laura’s breath caught. “I like you there too.”
Early Sunday morning, Murphy knocked on the door and laughed when he heard creative swearing
from the other side. Happily, he headed downstairs to start a pot of coffee and to fine tune the plan
for laying tile that day.
Laura leaned on her elbow and poked her comatose husband whose face was buried in his pillow.
When nudging and prodding failed to rouse him, she dove into her morning arsenal and pulled out
the heavy weaponry. Straddling him, she began trailing her tongue around his shoulder blade and
then worked her way down his spine. In under a minute, Remington groaned and rolled to pin
Laura to the bed. Unfortunately for him, his wife was a tad faster than he in the mornings and
eluded his grasp, taking the sheets and coverlet with her.
“Laura,” he complained.
“Up, Mr. Steele. You promised.”
He squinted at the clock dotted with sailboats and ducks and then at his wife wrapped in the
bedcovers. “It’s seven in the morning,” he muttered. “I didn’t volunteer for this, Laura.”
“You did. Come on--the kitchen awaits your presence.”
He leaned up on an elbow and ran his free hand through his hair. “Do I get a cup of tea first?”
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I’ll even make it for you.” She didn’t miss the gleam in his
eye and his hands snaking under the sheets she wore. When he made his move, she stepped
backward, pulling him from the bed to land on the floor with a thud.
“Damn it, Laura.” He rubbed his elbow and then scratched his morning beard. “There are more
pleasant ways to wake a body.”
“It’s not my fault I’ve had to perfect a number of ways for getting you out of the bed in the
morning. And besides, all your pleasant ways usually result in both of us going back to bed for a
couple of hours because you leave me too exhausted to get up.” It was a lesson she’d learned after
their wedding. After being humiliatingly late a number of times to the office those first few weeks,
Laura began a campaign to discover the quickest way to get her husband out of bed. Unfortunately,
the one that works the best can make me just as late as staying in bed in the first place, she thought.
Remington grinned. “I fail to see the problem, Mrs. Steele.”
“You wouldn’t. However,” she let the coverlets drop to the floor, “if you hurry, you can join me in
the shower.”
Donald had tiled his own kitchen a few years earlier and acted as foreman on the project. Having
seniority in the marriage department and being considered the resident expert on tile, he enjoyed
bossing his brothers-in-law around for the next two days.
His first executive decision came after Murphy cracked four porcelain tiles in a row with the wet
saw. He’d made Remington try his hand at the equipment, and the man’s patience and eye for
detail came in handy. It wasn’t long before Steele handed a curved tile over and found himself
officially in charge of cutting tiles out in the garage for the rest of the day while the other two men
laid them in the kitchen and then the bathroom.
Donald considered it a bonus that the twins’ husbands were separated, keeping rivalry and short
tempers to a minimum. Maybe I’m not being fair. So far he’d been surprised by Remington’s
good-natured attitude about the whole thing. Murphy was stressed and irritable, more so when one
of the inevitable problems cropped up during the project. Donald had been hard-pressed to stay
unflappable so as not to cause the impending father any more distress. Perhaps Steele was
following his lead.
Monday was spent grouting the tile. After a short lesson, Remington tackled the bathroom while
Donald and Murphy finished the kitchen. The twins spent the day running errands for Kate and
doing last minute Christmas shopping. Well after Kate went to bed that night, the three men
reinstalled the kitchen appliances and Laura wiped down the counters one last time.
Murphy was elated as he stood on the newly tiled floors and leaned against the counter. He thought
the kitchen looked incredible. Wearily, he took a swig from his bottle of beer. “Thanks. All of
you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
Grunting their assents, Remington and Donald flanked him as they drank from their own bottles and
surveyed their handiwork while Laura loaded the refrigerator with the groceries they’d stored in
coolers. “Kate’s going to be pleased,” she commented.
“And that’s all that matters at this point,” affirmed Murphy.
Laura grinned as she dumped the produce into a drawer. “Not really, but it’s nice that you think
that. I think we’re all here just as much for you as we are for Kate--maybe more so.”
“Don’t tell him that, love; he’ll think we like him or some such nonsense. And please, handle the
tomatoes with a little more care. We’re eating those tomorrow.”
With an arch to her brow, she stepped back from the refrigerator. “By all means, Mr. Steele, if you
don’t like the way I’m doing it, feel free.”
He strolled over, caught her by the waist and pulled her in for a kiss to a duet of groans from the
other men. “Of course, Mrs. Steele. Go admire my work in the bathroom and I’ll finish here.”
She rolled her eyes and headed for the bathroom with Donald and Murphy in tow.
By the time they returned, Remington had arranged the fridge the way he wanted it and written out
a neat list of groceries. With the kitchen in disarray, the Michaels had only stocked the bare
minimum of foodstuffs. The work crew had been living on cold sandwiches and takeout. “We’ll
get these tomorrow along with anything else you need in the meantime.”
Murphy frowned. “I don’t expect you to do all the cooking between now and Christmas, Steele.”
Remington shot him a grin. “Last time I checked, if it doesn’t involve a grill or calling out for pizza,
you and Donald are rather useless in the kitchen. Your wife can hardly reach the stove, and Laura’s
idea of dinner is salad and yogurt--which is perfectly fine if you want a light repast, but hardly
adequate for a healthy appetite.” His wife wrinkled her nose at him but didn’t argue. “Besides, you’
ll be picking up Frances, Abigail and the children tomorrow afternoon.
“I hate knowing you’re one up on me, Steele. I’m going to owe you big before this is all over.”
“’Tis called comhair, Murphy Michaels.” Irish rolled through Remington’s voice. “It’s different.
You needed help; we gave it. We’ll have need one day and you’ll come.”
* * * * *
Christmas Eve was pure, happy chaos. While Kate and Murphy picked out a Christmas tree, Laura,
Remington, Frances and Jena spent most of the day in the kitchen stuffing the freezer with food for
after the twins’ birth. Abigail claimed a foot of counter space to make her sugar cookies. After she
shooed the rest of the family away from the cooling confections, Remington taught his nieces and
nephews how to nick the cookies from under her nose while she was decorating them. Laurie Beth
proved to be the best at distracting Grandma while Mindy and Danny filched three each and split the
take with their younger sister. Abigail frowned at her remaining stock. Remington flashed his own
charming grin and purloined two more right in front of her.
Making his escape before he was caught with the goods, he joined the family in the living room
where Donald was helping Murphy anchor the freshly cut Christmas tree in its base. The aroma of
pine dancing in and out of the scent of sugar cookies was heavenly. He leaned against the doorway
and bit into his prize while watching the children dive into the buckets of decorations under Kate’s
supervision.
Murphy frowned at him from across the room. “How’d you get a cookie? Abigail chased me
away.”
“She likes me better than you.”
“Yeah, tell us something we don’t know,” Donald muttered from under the tree. “Okay, how does
that look?”
Remington stared for a minute and then walked to the other side. “Looks straight to me.”
“I’ll look. Steele wouldn’t know a straight line if it were handed to him. See? Tilt it to the left an
inch, Donald.”
“Now you’ve got it all crooked, Michaels. Come over here and see what you did.”
Murphy crossed his arms and held his ground. Steele held up the second cookie. “Bet me.”
“Shit. Kate, come tell me if the tree is straight.”
She rose heavily, with Danny and Mindy giving her a push to get vertical. “It’s too far to the left.”
Murphy pouted and Kate grinned as she nipped the cookie from Remington and took a bite.
“Hey--“
“Going to deny your pregnant sister-in-law food?”
“Ah, no.”
With a smirk, Kate turned back to the tree as Donald stood up. He eyeballed his three kids and then
shot a look to Remington. “I see cookie crumbs. Did you snitch for them too?” Steele kept an
innocent expression on his face and shrugged.
“No, Daddy. Uncle Remy taught us how to sneak them from Grandma.” Mindy was earnest as
she explained how the three of them set up their grandmother and walked away with the goodies.
“Steele, if I have to get them out of jail one night, I’m coming to you for bail money.”
“And I’ll happily pay it. But they won’t get caught if I have anything to do with it,” Steele retorted
before escaping, sans loot, back to the kitchen.
Donald shook his head and retrieved the lights from the bucket so that he and Murphy could string
them. He’d perceived over Thanksgiving that Remington hadn’t always walked the straight and
narrow. In fact, he was fairly certain his brother-in-law barely toed the line now. With a little snort,
he understood why Laura had fallen for him.
It seemed the two were just alike. Donald had seen Laura con her mother and sisters more than
once--and with an ease that was a little unnerving. She had a knack for getting in and out of trouble
with nary a scrape. Since she'd lived with that jerk, Wilson, for a year, Laura had appeared--on the
surface anyway--to become more reserved and restrained, but he’d noted a gleam in her eye from
time to time that let him know she hadn’t really changed. Underlying all of that was a capacity for
loyalty and a capability for love that ran deep and true.
Unlike any other man she’d dated, Remington wasn’t afraid of her. In fact, he seemed to relish
every aspect of her personality. A subtle current flowed between them, and it had taken him a while
to understand what it was. Frances had clued him in one day not too long ago. The pair constantly
challenged each other--both physically and intellectually.
Whereas Kate and Murphy had solidarity of purpose and soldiered after their wants and desires with
determination, Laura and Remington danced down the path, wandering off and coming back as their
wishes took them. It was a measure of their love and trust that they allowed each other the freedom
to find their own way within the relationship.
Donald doubted they would ever be a conventional couple. Already he could see the traditional
husband and wife roles were hopelessly tangled. Laura was a workaholic, played the piano with
flair and had an eye for making a house a home. Remington worked more frequently than he liked,
cooked like a gourmet chef and had an ability to play that rivaled any child’s. Ironically, they
managed their finances together--she had a knack for the day-to-day dealings and he had an eye for
investments. Laura had even talked him and Murphy into putting money in one of her husband’s
pet projects, and it was paying off nicely for all of them.
He grinned to himself as he surveyed the family assembling in the living room to decorate the
Christmas tree. Frances was lovely, as always, and she gave him that small secret smile he adored.
How three sisters could be so different was a wonder. How all three of them found happiness was a
miracle.
* * * * *
Laura missed a Midnight Mass at Christmas only once--last year--and it wasn’t by choice. As a
child, she remembered dressing in her pajamas just as Laurie Beth was, opening a single gift from
her parents before getting into the car, and listening in wonder to the beautiful carols in the hour
before Mass. None of that had changed in the ensuing years. Frances had carried on the traditions
for another generation, and the consistency comforted and thrilled Laura.
The whispers and chuckles among her family hadn’t changed either. They all laughed as one of the
unborn twins got hiccups, and Kathleen’s tummy bounced every few seconds for nearly twenty
minutes. When the rest of the family quit laughing, the baby would hiccup again, her belly would
jump and someone would get the giggles again, setting everyone off once more.
Laura tangled her fingers with Remington’s and rested her head on his shoulder. He shifted until his
arm was around her and dropped a kiss in her hair.
Remington sat quietly in the pew and took in his relatives with no little awe. Regardless of her
faults, Abigail had raised three daughters who understood the value of family. He hadn’t realized
that Laura had these kinds of connections when he’d married her. Oh, he’d met all of her family at
one time or another, but it was only at Thanksgiving that he’d realized how attached they were. In
spite of their differences, each of the women still reached out to one another.
Laurie Beth crawled into his lap and fell asleep shortly before midnight. As he wrapped his arm
securely around her, the familiar smell of frankincense filled the air as the priest made his blessings.
While Remington recited the prayers and sang hymns he’d learned long ago, the rhythm of the
Mass--nearly unchanged for centuries--brought him an odd comfort he hadn’t anticipated. The
priest reminded them of the miracle at hand and the new beginnings to come. He couldn’t help
looking over at Kate’s belly and then to Laura. Her smile filled him with warmth and he could only
wonder, what have I done to deserve this? For the rest of Mass, only one short prayer kept circling
in his head: Thank you, God.
The next morning, shrieks of delight punctuated the air as the three children scampered into the
living room, waking Laura and Remington from a dead sleep on the pull-out sofa in the living room.
Having been warned by Frances, they’d both taken the precaution of wearing pajamas the night
before.
Remington tried unsuccessfully to bury his head under the pillow as the rest of the adults wandered
into the room, but Danny pulled it away and began poking at him to get up. “Come ON, Uncle
Remy. It’s Christmas and your bed is in the way. UP!”
Reluctantly, he rolled off the bed and grabbed for his dressing gown. He arched a brow at Laura.
“I don’t suppose I get tea, do I?”
“Not yet.” She grinned and kissed him on the cheek before picking up the pillows so that Murphy
could shove the bed back into the sofa. Remington stole one away from her and tried to go back to
sleep on one of the armchairs, but Laura directed the children’s attention to him.
They pounced. “Unca Remy, Unca Remy, it’s Christmas! Wake up!” Laurie Beth yelled, making
him wince at the volume. He sat up and scrubbed his face as his wife sat between his feet on the
floor in front of him. He looked around and noted Frances sitting with Donald and Murphy rubbing
Kate’s back. Abigail was on the floor with the children and helped them pass out presents.
A sheer flurry of paper and ribbons later, the kids sprawled out on the floor with their new toys.
Laura noted that Remington was still a little dumb-founded by the whole gift-giving process. She
wasn’t sure which surprised him more--the apparent glee the family had for the sketches he’d done
for each of them and she had framed or the stack of gifts he had in his lap that reflected his own
interests and wishes.
She meticulously opened her own gift from him to find a unique bracelet of three wide strands of
platinum set with rubies and diamonds across the top. On the back he’d had engraved, To LS from
RS, First Christmas 1986.
Kate’s jaw dropped. “Where did you find something like that, Remington?”
He shrugged and tugged at his ear. “I had an artist make it up from some sketches I jotted down.”
Laura bit her lip while he leaned over and fastened it across her wrist. “It’s beautiful,” she said
softly.
He stroked her hair once. “Only for you, love.” He leaned back and looked inside the package she’
d given him. A framed, black-and-white photograph lay nestled in the tissue paper. The young
woman in the picture was impossibly beautiful, with long dark hair and light eyes. Her elegant
fingers were clasped in front of her, and her face was lit up as she smiled at the photographer.
Remington stared for a long time before dipping his fingers inside and retrieving the photo. He
slipped it from the frame and turned it over. He recognized Daniel’s calligraphy, Mary Claire--1952.
“How--“ he nearly whispered the word in awe as he took another look.
Laura answered in similar tones. “I contacted some of Daniel’s friends to see if he left anything with
them. One of them, a Bill Jones, found this photograph and sent it to me. He said Daniel left it
with him before he was sent up in 1953 and never asked for it back. He'd stashed it in a box and
forgotten about it until I called.”
“Jonesy. I remember we stayed with him from time to time when I was younger.”
“He remembered you. Said you were ‘slick, too good-looking and wild as a March hare.’"
“He’d know.”
Abigail spoke up then. “What did you get from Laura, Remington dear?”
“A photograph. Of … of my mother.”
“May I see it?”
“Of course.” Slowly, he handed it to her.
Abigail looked it over and then glanced at Remington. “She’s lovely and you look just like her.
After I learned Daniel was your father, I never could see you in him. Now I know why.”
Kate interjected, “You knew his dad?”
Her mother blushed and simpered. “I did. Such a charming man. And his villa in the south of
France is lovely.”
All three of her daughters wore identical expressions of shock although Laura looked a little green as
well. Frances recovered first. “You … and Remington’s father?”
“Well, we met through Laura and Remington, of course. They weren’t even dating then. Oh, close
your mouths, girls. It was just a summer thing. We had our fun and went our separate ways. I had
you girls here and Daniel wanted to stay in Europe. He didn’t want Remington to feel torn between
him and Laura.” She leaned over to give the photograph back to him.
Now Remington was surprised as well as he took it from her. “Daniel said that?”
“He thought Laura was the best thing that had happened to you, dear. She went toe to toe with him
over you and he was delighted.”
Laura’s eyes narrowed at her husband. “You knew about them,” she accused in a harsh whisper.
In a low voice he answered, “Ah. Hmm. I did. I didn’t think you really wanted to know.” He
pulled her into his lap and kissed her neck.
She tried to dodge his lips. “Are you trying to distract me again?”
“Is it working?”
She turned to him. “Of course. Merry Christmas, Remington.”
“Happy Christmas, Mrs. Steele.” He lowered his mouth to hers but not before taking another long
look at his mother. “Thank you, Laura.”
* * * * *
They flew home with Abigail on the twenty-seventh after Kate’s doctor assured her she was still at
least a week away from delivering the babies. The Pipers planned to stay for one more day.
* * * * *
Remington dropped the luggage on the floor of their foyer. Laura had already ditched her share in
the living room and collapsed on the creamy leather sofa. He stretched out, laying his head in her
lap.
“Laura, I think you’ve accomplished something unique, something I never thought possible.” He
closed his eyes.
“What’s that?”
“I have absolutely no desire to cook dinner, watch a movie, or even nibble on your toes, delightful
though they may be.”
“What is it you want to do?”
“Stay right here and sleep for a day or two. Possibly three.”
“Wish granted. As long as you promise not to move.” She tilted her head against the sofa and
closed her eyes. She loved her family; she really did. But dealing with them for nearly a week was
exhausting. Remington had his hands full with Abigail most of the last three days as he kept her
occupied and not annoying her daughters. Laura had borne the brunt of Kate’s frustration with her
final weeks of pregnancy.
Of course, the phone rang.
Laura slid out from under Remington and fumbled for the phone on the side table. “Murphy? …
She’s what? … I thought she had another week to go? … Yeah, what do doctors know anyway?
Let me think for a minute. It’s four o’clock now; we can probably get a flight this evening and be
there late tonight. Will you be at the house or the hospital by then? … I can do that. No, don’t
worry about picking us up. We’ll rent a car at the airport or catch a taxi. Can I talk to her?”
Laura didn’t sound worried, so Remington kept his eyes closed.
“Hi, Kate.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “Sure, we just got back. … No, no problem at
all. I told Murphy we’ll be there tonight. Think you can hold out that long? … Did you call Mom?
… Hmmm, maybe I’ll ask Remington to talk to her. I think she likes him better than the rest of us
anyway. … Okay, let me off the phone so I can get a flight booked. … I know, sis. I won’t miss
it. Love you, Kate.” She hung up the phone. “How does spending the night in Denver sound?”
“Like a bad western movie.”
“Kate’s in labor and wants us there. We have to go back.” She started punching buttons on the
phone. It said something about their lives that they had two different airlines on speed dial.
“Ah, Laura, don’t you think I should stay here and take care of the agency while you are gone?”
Remington scratched his nose. “It’s been a whole week. I mean, there’s paperwork to tend to, skip-
traces to run.”
She looked at him quizzically. “Are you serious? For one, it’s after Christmas and the office will be
dead as a doornail. Two, it's Kate and Murphy--they’re having the twins, and three, I need you to
handle Mother.”
At that moment, Remington regretted being the only male in the family that seemed to be able to
charm Abigail Holt. “I’ll call her from here. She’ll feel better about not being there if I’m not there
either.”
Incredulous, Laura laid down the telephone. “You don’t want to go?”
“I’ll just be in the way of the happy family. You need to be with Kate. I’m certain Murphy would
prefer that I stay here.” He shrugged his shoulder in discomfort.
Stunned, Laura could only gape at him across the living room. “What has gotten into you? They’re
having the babies and they’ve asked us to come.”
“No, Laura. They asked you to come. Kate wants you there. Go. I’ll be here when you get
back.” He dropped a kiss on her temple and carried his luggage to the bedroom. Dazed and too
pressed for time to deal with her husband, she dialed the phone and booked a flight for one to
Denver before frantically repacking her bag and calling for a taxi.
In her fatigue, anger and worry, Laura promptly fell asleep on the plane. Three hours later, the
plane touched down in Denver where she flagged a cab and arrived at the hospital in forty minutes.
She dashed through the doors of Labor and Delivery to find her sister slowly pacing the floor with
Murphy holding her hand.
“Excellent timing, Kate,” Laura said from the doorway as she set her carry-on bag on the chair.
“My apologies. Apparently, the babies didn’t know what the doctor was talking about. The
contractions started about thirty minutes after you guys left for the airport. Frances is holding down
the fort and will be here in the morning. She walked with me all day.”
Laura hugged her sister and kissed her on the cheek. “Details, Katy. Give me details,” she ordered.
“I’m only at four centimeters dilated and around fifty percent effaced, but since I’m lugging around
two of these little hitchhikers, they want me to stick around. They tell me it’s going to be a long
night.” She rubbed the small of her back as another contraction started.
“Where’s your lesser half?” asked Murphy. He brushed away Kate’s hands and placed pressure on
the area.
“Home.” Laura kept her eyes on Kate as she breathed through another contraction.
“But surely--“ Murphy was startled to see the faint sheen of water in his old partner’s eyes. She
waved him off with a slight shake of her head. Not here. Not in front of Kate. Murphy nodded
and didn’t ask.
“Tell me what I’m looking at, Murphy.” Laura pointed to the machines hooked up to her sister.
Murphy gave her a quick hug and a succinct explanation of the charts and graphs on the machines
as the contraction receded.
Kate took Laura’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here.” The identical twins exchanged tremulous smiles.
Remington poked aimlessly at his kung pao chicken that night, wondering what the hell he was
thinking. Why didn’t I just get on the plane and go?
Throughout the long night, Kate tried to sleep in snatches between increasingly frequent
contractions. Murphy and Laura took turns sleeping in the rock hard chair and rubbing her back.
Laura’s own back ached with sympathetic pains, a phenomenon that had occurred from time to time
when the twins were younger, but she ignored them.
Remington paced as he worked out in his head the reason for his panic upon hearing Kate was in
labor. It certainly was not a surprise she wanted her twin sister by her side, and Laura had
discussed the logistics with him more than once. He wished that, just one time, he had someone he
could call for advice. And then he realized that he did. He punched the numbers into the phone.
“Mildred?”
“Chief? Is everything okay? It’s midnight. Is Laura okay?” she babbled as Remington realized he
woke her from a sound sleep.
“Ah, I’m sorry, Mildred. I shouldn’t have called. I’ll speak with you tomorrow, eh?”
Her voice became firm as she detected the hesitation in his tone. “Mr. Steele, it must have been
important for you to pick up the phone. Spill it, bub.”
“Ah, Laura won’t be in tomorrow. Her sister, Kate, went into labor and she flew out to Denver a
few hours ago. I thought you might need to know--in case I’m not perfectly on time in the
morning.” Remington tried to be lighthearted, hoping to play it off.
But Mildred poked her needle sharp wit into that fantasy. “Why aren’t you with her, Boss?”
“It’s a family thing, Mildred. Laura doesn’t need me there. I’ll just … be in the way. You know,
babies, hospitals, family … that sort of thing.” He shrugged even though Mildred couldn’t see the
movement.
“Mr. Steele, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, you are Laura’s family now.” Remington stood
with his mouth open, trying to think up a reply that made sense. Even one that didn’t make sense.
Mildred heard the silence. “Go get on that plane, Boss. I’ll bet Laura didn’t think twice about
whether or not you were going. So go.”
Remington held the phone for the longest time. In the end he said simply, "Thank you, Mildred. I’
ll see you in a few days.”
Not wanting to disturb Fred at this late hour, Remington called a cab as well. The minutes flew by
while he carefully repacked his luggage. Damn. He forgot to call Abigail. He saw from his watch
that it was nearly one in the morning. Well, this just happens to be the night for phone calls.
By seven in the morning, Kate was irritable, sweaty and ready to personally pull the little tykes from
her body if they didn’t make their appearance soon. Murphy and Laura were very careful not to
make any comments about their own weariness from the long night. Kate might kill them both.
After the obstetrician took a quick peek at her progress and came up with eight and fully effaced,
Laura borrowed Murphy’s car to make a fast breakfast run. Eggs and bacon on a dry biscuit would
have to do this morning. Remington would be appalled. Thinking of him, she scrubbed at her face,
trying not to let the weariness of the night and her anger at him overwhelm her. Today is a happy
day and the only tears allowed are tears of joy, she told herself as she started the car and hunted
for the nearest fast food restaurant.
By the time she returned, Kate was pissy about being denied food. Laura handed Murphy his
breakfast and shooed him out of the room. “I’m the one doing all the work here. Why can’t I have
food?” Kathleen snapped.
“I don’t think the babies need anything extra to impede their progress.” Laura was used to her sister’
s waspish remarks by now.
“Who cares what they think? This whole pregnancy has been about them. I need food, now! Oh,
oh, damn … here comes another one.” Kate squeezed her eyes shut and grabbed Laura’s hand.
She went somewhere deep inside herself for a couple of minutes before opening her eyes and giving
her twin a half-smile. “Thank you, Laura. I wanted you to be here for this. Do you remember
when we used to plan double graduations, double weddings and double pregnancies when we were
teen-agers?”
“Things didn’t quite work out that way, did they,” Laura reflected.
“Well, we both graduated from Stanford anyway. And got married only a couple of months apart.
Hold on--” she shut her eyes again while Laura breathed with her. “I’m going to regret saying this,”
she added when the contraction passed, “but I wish Mom was here too.”
“I’ll never tell,” Laura promised. She looked up at the monitor. “Kate? These are coming close
together. I’m going to buzz the nurse.”
“Okay.” She started to pant again.
Moments later the nurse flipped the sheets back to check her progress. “All done. It’s time to push,
Mrs. Michaels.” Laura went to the door and yelled for Murphy. He jogged down the corridor
behind the doctor and took his place by Kate’s head. He winked at Laura. She shot him a quizzical
look as she got in position to help Kate as the doctor instructed.
“Mom!” Laura gasped when Abigail popped her head into the room.
“Hello, darlings--no, you stay there, Laura. Your sister needs you right now.”
“How did you get here?” She held Kate’s straining body, supporting her leg.
“Well, didn’t you send Remington to come get me? He said you flew right out the door and told
him to wait for me. That was sweet, dear. How are you, Kate?”
“A little … busy … Mom,” she panted in between the contractions.
“That’s good, dear. I’ll be waiting outside with Remington. Laura, you’ll come get me if you need
anything?”
“Remington’s here?”
“Yes, dear. Didn’t you hear me say he came to get me?”
“Mom, Laura--I’m having a couple of babies here!” Pure sarcasm dripped in Kate’s voice.
“Sorry, Katy.” Laura was instantly contrite. Abigail patted her youngest daughter on the head and
disappeared out the door.
An hour and a half later, Kate was yelling at Murphy and cursing him for touching her in the first
place. He was growing paler by the moment. It was harder than he thought to watch his adorable
wife labor through transition. He kissed her hand. “Just a few more pushes and the first one will be
here, Katy.”
“I don’t want to push. I’m done. You do this.” She gave Murphy a hard look and noted the
glazed eyes. Then she yelled at Laura. “Where’s Mom? I want Mom here. Is this supposed to be
happening? Mom!” she screamed.
Abigail popped her head inside the door. “Yes, Katy-dear?”
“Hold my hand, Mom,” she ordered. “Murphy, out. If you pass out on me right now, I am going
to be seriously pissed. Go.”
Murphy figured he’d better listen to his wife; he was feeling rather lightheaded. He shot the doctor
a nervous look. She held up three fingers and mouthed "three minutes" at him. He nodded and
stepped outside the hospital room.
Remington was pacing the floor, trying his best to listen/not listen to what was happening inside the
room. Every time Kate yelled, he winced. He whirled around when the door opened. Murphy
sagged against the door frame, taking deep breaths. He staggered slightly and Remington shoved
him into a chair and forced his head between his legs. “Breathe, mate. Now’s not the time to cut
and run.”
“Not planning on it. Kate threw me out. Said she didn’t want me to pass out on her. I’ve got two-
and-a-half minutes.”
“Smart girl.” Remington eyed the minute hand revolving around his watch. Sixty seconds later, he
yanked Murphy up. “Time to go in, old chap.” He shoved Murphy through the door and then had
to catch his brother-in-law as he nearly swooned. Remington bopped him on the back of the head.
“It’s not your turn. Go to Kate.” Murphy stood up and took a deep breath before clapping
Remington on the shoulder in thanks. He moved to Kate’s side to help support her straining body.
Remington suddenly had an unimpeded view; transfixed, he froze by the door. Laura sat behind
Kate, supporting her as she pushed the first of the babies from her womb. Murphy and Abigail
stood on either side, helping her by holding her legs in the process. With a determined groan, Kate
leaned forward and the baby slid into the doctor’s waiting hands.
“We have a boy!” The doctor swabbed the tiny infant’s face and clamped the umbilical cord before
laying the baby on his mother’s chest. “Dad, care to do the honors?” He held out a pair of scissors
as Kate stroked her newborn son.
Murphy's eyes glistened as he snipped the cord. The nurse swiftly wrapped the infant in a blanket
and handed him to the new father to hold. Kate wanted to reach for her son, but another
contraction gripped her and Laura leaned in for support. Murphy looked at his baby and his wife,
confused as to which one to attend first.
He looked around, not wanting to relinquish the newborn to the hospital staff. Irrationally, he feared
the nurses would take him away before Kate had a chance to hold him. When Kate bore down
again, he glanced around wildly in confusion--Laura and Abigail were helping Kate, and Remington
was still frozen by the door. He crossed to his brother-in-law and placed the babe in his arms.
“Don’t drop him. And don’t let anyone have him yet,” he ordered before going back to his wife’s
side.
Remington stared down at the tiny little boy, still damp from birth and beginning to fuss at all the
confusion. “Shh, shh, little one. Mum and Da will be here soon.” He swayed with the child,
mesmerized by the squinty bluish eyes and red face. He murmured more nonsense and his nephew
stared at him, calmed by the cadence of his voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he realized Kate
was pushing another child into the world. In what seemed like seconds, Murphy was snipping the
cord and holding his second son.
Quietly, Laura eased out from behind her sister and took her mother’s hand while Remington
regained enough sense to deposit his precious cargo into Kate’s arms. The three retreated to the
hallway to give the new parents a few minutes alone with their twin boys.
Abigail hugged Laura and kissed Remington on the cheek. “Thank you for bringing me. It was a
very sweet thing to do. Coffee, anyone? No? I’ll be back in a few minutes then.”
Remington wiped away the tears from Laura’s cheeks, then realized his own were damp as well.
“I’m sorry, Laura. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
She nodded and leaned against him in a tight hug. “Thank you for being here … and for bringing
Mom. But I’ll never admit I said that. She’s Kate’s problem now.” She wiped away her remaining
tears and chuckled. “You looked as if someone hit you over the head with a brick when you
walked into the room.”
“I’ll never be able to look at Kate the same way again. Ah, love, don’t remind Murphy. He might
pop me a good one just for the pleasure of it.”
“Maybe, maybe not. You realize how much trust he showed you, giving you his son?”
Remington quipped, “He knew I would be too terrified to run. There are some chairs at the end of
the hallway. Care to sit for a few minutes?” She nodded and Remington pulled her into his lap.
They watched the doctors and nurses pile out of the room, pushing equipment in front of them.
Laura snuggled her head into her husband’s shoulder, breathing in his cologne mixed with his own
clean scent. Thankful for his presence, she began to doze lightly in his arms.
Uncomfortable in the hard chair, Remington considered it part of his penance for his transgression.
The rest would involve explanations to his wife. Explanations he still didn’t quite have. He closed
his own eyes and rested his head against the wall.
Murphy found them that way an hour later. The nurses were moving Kate into a new room, and he
was to follow the babies to the nursery. He stood a few feet away, not sure if he should wake
them, when Remington opened his eyes. “An heir and a spare. Not bad, Michaels, not bad at all.”
He grinned. “Want to see them?”
Remington glanced down at Laura, who was stirring from her nap. “I think I know the answer to
that.”
“To what?” she said sleepily.
“To whether or not you want to see the babies.”
Her eyes popped open, registering her brother-in-law. “We can see them? Oh!” She stepped into
his embrace and hugged him hard. “Congratulations, Murphy. Where are they?”
Both men chuckled. “This way.” The proud new father indicated the nursery.
Laura pressed her nose to the glass. “They’re perfect. I can’t wait to hold them.” Murphy was
inside, assisting the nurse with changing the boys’ diapers and taking measurements. He had the
silliest look of satisfaction on his face. Remington watched with his hands jammed in his pockets.
He eventually pulled out a toothpick and chewed on it.
Her mother stepped in between them. “They look just like your grandpa, Laura.” Laura frowned.
She thought they looked like little miniature Murphys with their blond hair, dark blue eyes
notwithstanding. They had the same slant to their brows and cleft in their chin as their dad. “Yes,
that little cleft is straight from my father. He would be quite proud.” Abigail sounded quite certain
of herself.
“He would, wouldn’t he?” Remington pressed a kiss to Abigail’s cheek. He winked at Laura.
“Mom, is Kate settled yet?”
“Yes, dear. She’s in room 212.”
Laura found her sister’s room while Remington and her mom continued to watch the boys and
Murphy through the nursery window. Kate smiled, her whole face lighting up as Laura came in.
She opened her arms and Laura crawled onto the bed next to her. They stayed that way, forehead
to forehead, until Murphy and Remington arrived, each pushing a bassinet. Abigail and the Piper
family came in after them, and there was much shuffling as the family carved out personal space in
the tiny room.
Murphy handed the babies to the twins, introducing them to Laura in turn. “The heir is Aiden
Murphy Michaels; the spare is Ian Sean Michaels.” He nudged Remington with a wink.
“Hi, guys.” Laura took Ian and kissed him on the forehead. His sweet baby scent filled her with
contentment as she snuggled him closer. She and Kate unwrapped the boys, comparing feet and
hands. “They’re identical,” she announced.
“That’s what the doctor said,” Kate agreed. “See? They both have the same birthmark on their
thighs.” While the twins admired the twins, Abigail pulled a small camera out of her purse and
snapped their picture. The two men couldn’t help sidling up to their wives and peeking at the boys.
She took that picture too.
When Frances absconded with Aiden, Laura glanced up at Remington and smiled. “Do you want to
hold him?”
“Ah, Laura.” He tried to warn her off.
“Come on, you’ve already had a crack at Aiden. Here, have Ian.” She put the tiny bundle into
Remington’s arms. He sat with the child in the armchair next to Kate’s bed, taking in the red,
scrunched-up face and the slightly gaping mouth as the child slept. The newborn was hard to hold
as he rolled up like a pill bug, and it took some shifting on Steele’s part to get the infant settled
against his chest where he could cradle the boy’s tiny body in his long hands.
The rest of the Holt clan chattered in the hospital room, with Abigail and Frances exchanging war
stories and advice. From her perch near Kate, only Laura noted Remington’s stricken countenance
as he gently patted Ian’s bottom. She eased off the bed and sat on the arm of his chair, letting her
body block her family’s view of him. In a low voice, she called his name. Her heart clenched at the
sheen in his blue eyes when he looked up.
“Why, Laura?” he croaked.
“Why what?”
“There isn’t a child in this room that I wouldn’t take in and care for as my own. I’d be a terrible
father, but at least I would give a damn.” His voice was sharper than he intended, and the rest of
the family looked over in surprise. Not seeing their reaction, he scooted Ian nearer to his shoulder
and stroked the boy’s back. The infant heaved a sigh and jammed his eyes more firmly shut--if
such a thing were possible. Remington dropped his voice, but not low enough for the clan to miss
his words in the ensuing quiet. “Not one, Laura. Not a single one of those bloody cousins of mine
cared for anything more than the few pounds the government gave them for keeping me.” She
touched his brow and drew the lock of hair away from his face before dropping her hand down to
caress his cheek. “I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, Laura, much less a child who only wants to know
where he belongs. All for being born on the wrong side of the blankets.”
Abigail surprised them by speaking up. “Remington, dear, some people only know one way to live.
In order to be happy, they have to live by certain rules, and their lives can only go down one narrow
path. And because those kinds of people never break the rules, they don’t understand that
happiness and love can happen anyway, and perhaps, in a better way. It’s not your failing; it’s
theirs. But perhaps they can be pitied, for they miss out on a large part of life.”
Laura turned around in shock. “You dare say those things, Mother? When I’ve lived my whole life
knowing I didn’t fit into your mold, into your narrow path of what you think a woman should be?”
“Oh, Laura, use that brain of yours. Trying to get you to do things my way had nothing to do with
forcing you into a different life and everything to keep you from making the same mistakes your
father made.”
“His mistakes?” she echoed faintly.
Abigail glanced around and pointedly noted the three bright-eyed children behind her. Taking the
hint, Donald immediately handed Mindy a few dollars from his wallet. “Kids, you can get a snack
from the vending machine in the waiting room. Laurie Beth, listen to your sister, and all of you
come right back.” A chorus of whoops and giggles accompanied the children out the door.
She continued, “Dear, no one was harder on himself that he. I fell in love with him because he was
so terribly bright and passionate; he insisted on forging his own path in everything. But he
demanded too much of himself and held himself to a standard of perfection that no human could
attain. He constantly disappointed himself.” She gave a brief sigh. “There came a day that he
finally threw everything away because he thought he was a complete failure. He did it by doing the
one thing I wouldn’t tolerate--he had an affair.”
Abigail rose and took Aiden from Frances. Very matter-of-factly, she said, “Laura, if you want to
know what will make Remington leave you, it’s your going to bed with another man. It’s the only
thing he won’t forgive.” He nodded involuntarily when her eyes met his. She moved to stand near
him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry your family wasn’t made up of more
broadminded people. You’re a welcome addition to our family, and I’m happy to know that Laura
has someone who loves her.”
She turned to her middle daughter. “Laura, dear, all those years I saw you following in your
father’s footsteps and becoming just as miserable as he. Since Frances was so happy, I thought
perhaps if you were more like her, you would find a way to be content too.”
With another sigh, Abigail reflected, “I always thought if I loved your father enough that he would
learn to be happy with himself. But my love wasn’t enough. In his mind, happiness could only be
had one way--and life isn’t like that. Like your family, Remington, it’s his failing. And see all he
lost out on in the end?” She waved a hand around to indicate her three daughters and the children
tumbling back into the room.
“We can’t change our past, Remington. But we can be thankful that we know it’s not the only way
to live life, and we can choose differently for our future. Each of my girls took a different path, and
each of them has found someone who respects and loves her. And they all seem to be quite
content.” She cooed at the baby in her arms. “Really, that’s all any parent can hope for. Daniel
certainly wanted it for you. Now pass the baby around, dear. Frances hasn’t had a chance to hold
him yet.”
Later that day, the Steeles found a nearby hotel where they could get a decent night’s sleep before
having one last visit with the new family and heading home the following afternoon. Not caring that
it was only four-fifteen, Laura stripped out of her clothes, showered and crawled into bed.
Remington followed suit, but she was sound asleep by the time he joined her.
Somewhere around midnight, she woke first. Without moving, she watched her husband slumber
while she reflected on her mother’s assertions. Her mom wasn’t wrong about any of it although the
fact that she’d pegged a couple of points about Remington that Laura had missed annoyed her.
Or maybe she hadn’t. Somehow Laura had always known, even when she and Remington weren’t
“committed,” that if she crossed the line and slept with someone else, he would have been gone.
His possessiveness was a very real thing that she contended with often enough. He wasn’t jealous
exactly, just afraid of not having her.
More than ever, she was grateful for Remington’s constant challenges to her psyche. He never let
her stand on principle unless she could firmly defend her stance. There was no getting away with
arbitrary decisions, just because that was the way "things were supposed to be." Each time she fell
short of her own standards, he took it in stride and showed her how she was a better person because
of it. He used her own logic to make her see other possibilities--something her mother hadn’t been
able to do with her father.
Laura understood that he was able to do these things because he had so few absolutes in his own
life. He knew far better than most that everything from personality to moral standards was
negotiable, depending on the circumstances. The principles he did have were grounded only in his
own experience and choices, certainly not his upbringing. In fact, perhaps the only constants in his
life so far had been Daniel and herself. It was no wonder he had a tendency to panic whenever he
thought he was losing her--the time in London after losing the agency license, the whole INS fiasco,
and now this. Thank heavens, this time it was on a much smaller scale.
She wondered if he understood that, while she loved her mother and sisters deeply, her first loyalty
was to him. Unconsciously, she sighed and Remington woke to the soft sound.
As usual, he snapped awake. When he saw Laura lying next to him, he groaned and rolled to his
back, covering his face with his hands.
She leaned up on an elbow. “That’s not your usual reaction to me when you wake up. Was it
something I said?”
He snorted with laughter and scrubbed at his face before pulling his hands away. “Laura.” He
turned his head and furrowed his brow at her, taking in the warmth in her brown eyes. “You’re not
angry with me.”
“I never am when I understand the problem, Mr. Steele.”
With two fingers, he reached over and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Why is it that
sometimes I have the feeling that you know me better than I do?”
Catching his fingers before he could draw them away, she kissed the tips. “You usually give me a
fair number of clues to follow.”
He shook his head as he held her hand. “Only you would say that, love.” He’d built a life out of
keeping himself elusive and unreadable, letting others see only what they expected. Yet Laura could
reach deep into his mind and pick out the very details that unraveled the mystery of him. And no
matter what she found, she accepted him with aplomb.
The sheets rustled as he shifted to her side, connecting his body to hers from shoulder to toes.
Without a word he buried his face in her hair, needing her in a most fundamental way. And when
he pulled back to look at her face, he brushed her cheek with his thumb. “I know I don’t tell you
this very often, Laura. Not nearly often enough. I love you.”
With the sly smile he adored, she slid across his body until she straddled him. Lacing her hands
with his, she said, “I know you love me. You tell me every," she kissed his forehead, "single," his
cheek, "day,” and captured his lips with her own.
24 April 2009
Steele Holting On
Steele Holting On
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