Steele, Inc.-Atlanta Division

 

It's Steele Just Child's Play

by

Debra Talley (with Thekla Kurth)

This story is set in the Brendan Universe and is the 3rd part of the Brendan Trilogy.

---

Feb. 10, 1995

"There's no place like home," a very pregnant Laura Holt-Steele said to herself as she entered her home through the front door. It always gave her an unexpected thrill to enter unannounced and catch her family in the midst of their activities. She didn't think of it as spying ; rather, she thought of it as savoring the priceless bits and pieces of her continuing wonderful life.

Being careful not to make any noise, she placed her purse on the hall table and listened. The air was alive with the sounds of her husband and children. She smiled to herself and followed the nearest sound-- her piano-- into the formal living room.

There she found Rory, almost seven, pouring his heart and soul into the ivory keys. It was clear he loved her piano as much as she did. He practiced his scales with as much reverence as Laura had played Chopin's Prelude in D Minor in her empty loft so many years earlier. She took a mental photograph and left her son to his music.

It was the sounds and smells from the kitchen that attracted Laura's attention next. In the silent shadows of the doorway she could see Remington and their eldest son Brendan, age eight, up to their elbows in flour as they kneaded dough on the counter top. She almost laughed aloud when she saw the sprinklings of flour in their coal black hair. It was even harder to restrain herself when she saw Abby, thirteen months, asleep in her high chair. Sticky dough was smeared on her face, which was resting on the high chair tray, and her hair was also "dusted." Laura took another mental snapshot and left her gourmet chefs to their creations.

The sounds of laughter then drew her upstairs to the doorway of her own bedroom. There she discovered her almost-five-year-old twins, Laurie and Remy, in the midst of playing dress-up with Mummy and Daddy's clothes. Mounds of discarded clothing were scattered about the floor. Laura knew she should be angry, but at the moment she was busy making memories.

She was so caught up in watching the scene before her that she almost didn't notice when Remington, a sleeping Abby in his arms, joined her. She motioned for him to be quiet and together they watched their offsprings' performance.

 

Laurie examined herself from all angles in her parents' full-length mirror and frowned. Grabbing another throw pillow from the bed, she stuffed it under her oversized clothing.

 

"Do I look as fat as Mummy?" she asked, studying her reflection.

 

"You better not let Mummy know you think she's fat!" Remy warned as be held up his father's trousers' legs and stepped into his dad's favorite pair of dress shoes.

 

Laurie stepped into her mother's high heel shoes and wobbled closer to her twin. "Maybe we should hide Mummy's chocolate chip cookies, so she won't get even fatter," she suggested.

 

"You're just saying that so you can eat her cookies," Remy accused as be struggled to tie what he referred to as his dad's "measles tie."

 

"I'm not gonna eat Mummy's cookies. Every time she eats lots of those cookies, she gets fat and then she and Daddy bring home another baby."

 

"I thought you liked it when we get a new baby," Remy said as he tried to extricate his hand from the knot be had made.

 

"I do like it! But if I eat lots of chocolate chip cookies and get fat like Mummy, I might have a baby, too! And I don't want one yet!"

 

Remy jerked his hand free of the knot and accidentally hit Laurie, easily knocking her off balance in the high heel shoes she was wearing.

 

"Why don't you try Mummy's wedding shoes?" Remy asked.

 

"Good idea," Laurie agreed. "Help me find them."

 

They both got on their hands and knees and began rummaging through Laura's numerous pairs of shoes.

 

"I found one!" they exclaimed together, each holding up a once white, muddied sneaker.

 

"Why doesn't Mummy throw these nasty things away?" Remy asked as they each shoved a shoe on Laurie's foot and pretended to tie them.

 

"You know how mummies are. They like to save shoes. She saved our shoes, remember?" Laurie reminded him.

 

"Oh, yeah - the gold ones on the piano. Think she's gonna turn these gold and put them on the piano, too?" Remy asked.

 

As they stood up, one of Laurie ' s pillows slipped from beneath beneath her loose clothing and fell to the floor. They giggled and then Remy helped her adjust it. Laurie then plopped her mother's black honeymoon hat on her head, batted her eyes at her Remy and slipped her arm through his.

 

"I'm ready, Remy," she purred.

 

"Mummy doesn't call Daddy 'Remy'," he remind her.

 

"Oh, yeah," Laurie said. Then clearing her throat and batting her eyelashes again, she said, "I'm ready, Mr. Steele."

 

"Indeed, Mrs. Steele. We better hurry. We wouldn't want Humpty Bogart to start without us, now, would we?"

 

"Do you have money for the tickets?" Laura asked, imitating her mother perfectly.

 

"I started carrying cash the day after Brendan was born, but you still ask every time we go out," Remy said, trying to mimic his father's "hurt" tone.

 

"Just reminding you, Mr. Steele."

 

"I still say it ruins the line of my suit. *You* carry it. No one will see it with that abdo-abdo- of yours,"he said, pointing to Laurie's stomach.

 

"Abdo-man. Gosh, boys don't know anything."

 

"Mummy doesn't say that."

 

"No, but she does this!" Laura said as she began to whop her brother on the head with a pillow she had pulled from beneath her mother's maternity dress.

 

Remy covered his face with his hands and as a result didn't see Laurie stomp on his foot.

 

"Laurie, please! Ow! Stop it!"

 

At that moment Bogart, the family sheepdog, galloped past Remington's legs and into the bedroom. Laurie and Remy were knocked to the floor in a fit of laughter as Bogart expressed his affection with big, sloppy face licks.

 

Doing his best to stifle his laughter, Remington made a mad dash down the hallway to the nursery the sleeping baby still in his arms. Laura started toward the twins, but changed her mind and followed Remington instead.

 

He was placing Abby in her crib when she got there.

 

Remington greeted his wife with a broad grin, saying, "I think we should do it."

 

"Here? In the nursery? In front of the baby? You're depraved," Laura said, feigning shock.

 

"No, not here; on top of the piano," Remington said.

 

"But Rory is practicing his lesson," Laura pointed out.

 

"So?"

 

"Mr. Steele, really. You know I have no problem expressing affection in front of the children, but I think that's going too far!" Laura exclaimed, swatting his arm.

 

Remington looked puzzled. "Are we talking about the same thing?" he asked.

 

"l certainly hope not! What *are* we talking about?"

 

"Bronzing your wedding sneakers and displaying them on the piano along with the children's baby shoes. What did you think I meant?"

 

Laura's sly smile and raised eyebrows were answer enough for Remington.

 

"On top of the piano, eh? And you think *I'm* depraved," he teased. "Well, you must admit, it would certainly give a whole new meaning to the term 'tickling the ivories.'" Then burying his face in Laura's hair, he kissed her neck and suggested, "Maybe we'd better put that experience on hold until after the baby comes."

 

"Good idea," Laura whispered seductively as she kissed him.

 

He returned her kiss with equal fervor and then pulled back to study her face. "Speaking of magical moments, Laura..."

 

"Yes?"

 

"Don't you think we should correct Remy and Laurie's misconception that babies come from eating too many chocolate chip cookies?"

 

"I'd rather correct their misconception that I hit you every time we disagree."

 

"Is it really a misconception?" he teased.

 

"I'm serious. I didn't realize that was the message I was sending the children. I don't want them to think it's okay to slug each other."

 

"Yes, well, then I suggest you remember that the next time you feel an uncontrollable urge to destroy my foot with your high heel."

 

"Think what will happen to them when they get to school," she said, ignoring his comment. "All of their little friends will go around saying, 'Watch out for those Steele twins; they hit'."

 

"Laura, we've never had any problems with Brendan or Rory at school. The twins will be no different-- unless, of course, they start tackling anyone who starts to eat a cookie. Maybe it's time we sit them down and tell them the horrid truth about . . . cookies," Remington suggested, unable to keep the twinkle out of his voice.

 

"Oh. I don't know," Laura said as she moved closer to her husband. "Personally, I've always found chocolate chip cookies to be a very powerful aphrodisiac."

 

Leaning against him, they took full advantage of the rare private moment and shared another kiss.

 

Suddenly a SWOOSH came rushing through the open nursery doorway and a suction cup dart attached itself to Remington's forehead. Laura tried not to laugh, but it was hopeless and her lilting laugh soon blended with the delightful sound of childish giggles coming from the hallway.

 

"Some things never change, eh, Laura?" Remington said with a sigh. "Someone still shoots as us when we're kissing!"

 

He pulled the dart from his forehead with a resounding "Ouch!"

 

"Courage, Mr. Steele. It's just a flesh wound," Laura reassured him. "Want me to kiss it and make it better?"

 

"Later, perhaps," he said as he began easing his way out of the room, taking Laura with him. "But first things first; right now I've got to capture some desperados!"

 

In a flash, Remington grabbed a giggling Remy, Laurie and Rory and the four of them fell to the floor amidst gales of laughter. Shaking her head and laughing, Laura carefully shut the nursery door shut so Abby wouldn't be disturbed by the ruckus.

 

"I'll kiss it and make it better, Daddy!" Laurie offered, throwing her arms around Remington's neck and giving him a resounding smack on the forehead.

 

"Thank you, sweetheart; it feels better already," Remington said as he started to get up. He didn't get far, however, as all three children climbed over him and began whispering in his ears at once. After a moment, he put his finger to his lips, saying, "Shh, you don't want to spoil Mummy's surprise, now, do you?" he asked.

 

"Surprise?" Laura hesitantly asked.

 

Rory was the first one up, grabbing Laura's hand and pulling her toward the stairs. In seconds the twins were helping their older brother lead the way. At first they were all talking at once, but at Laura's puzzled look, they began taking turns.

 

"We were helping Daddy clean up..." began Laurie.

 

"...because Grandma's coming tonight..." added Rory.

 

"...and you know how Daddy has been looking for it ever so long..." contributed Remy.

 

"...and the rules say we can help him look . . ." reminded Rory.

 

Laura opened her mouth as if to object, but Remington interrupted her. "Ah - you agreed to those rules, Mummy. And everyone knows your word is your bond. Right, kids?"

 

"Right!" all three children hollered as they finally deposited their mother in front of the family photo wall in the den.

 

There on the short bookcase under the photo wall sat the object of the children's excitement - a framed, color photo of Laura and Remington on Juan's tuna boat at the time of their first wedding.

 

Laura shrugged her shoulders to signify defeat. "Okay. You found it. I promise to let it sit there for a whole week before I hide it again."

 

"Oh, no!" Remington said as the children protested loudly. "The rules say two weeks!"

 

Laura sighed. "Okay. If the rules say two weeks, then two weeks it is."

 

Just then Bogart, wearing Remington's measles tie, trotted down the hallway. Before Remington could raise his voice in a threat, all three kids took off after him.

 

"Really, Laura. I would have thought you'd be more original. I mean, the bottom of the laundry hamper?" Remington asked. "You're not teaching our offspring to be very good detectives if you can't find a better hiding place than that."

 

'To the contrary; I'd say it was an excellent hiding place. It took the six of you three weeks to find it," Laura said as she chucked Remington under his chin.

 

"Yes, well - we didn't expect you to hide it in the same place twice in a row."

 

"Ah, but a good detective has to expect the unexpected, Mr. Steele," Laura reminded him.

 

"I'll remember that in two weeks, when you hide it again."

 

"After eight years, this game is getting a little old, don't you think?" Laura asked, frowning at the photo. "Mother will be absolutely mortified to find that wedding picture on display along with our nice wedding picture."

 

"Nonsense. Abigail is a true romantic. She understands the sentimentality of our first wedding," Remington said, picking up the photo and studying it fondly. "To me, you were just as lovely in your ripped, muddy suit and sneakers as you were in your Irish lace."

 

"You mean that, don't you?" Laura said softly, her eyes sparkling.

 

"Absolutely," Remington whispered as he drew Laura close and kissed her.

 

This time it was Brendan who interrupted them. When their eldest son cleared his throat and just stood there, Remington broke the kiss and he and Laura just looked at each other and laughed. Before Brendan could explain, however, the timer in the kitchen suddenly went off.

 

"I was going to tell you the rolls are almost done," Brendan said.

 

"Ah, yes," Remington said, replacing the photo and putting his other arm around his son's shoulders. "Done to perfection, I'd say."

 

Laura, alone now, looked around the warn, friendly family room. She picked up the tunafied wedding picture and smiled as she wiped fingerprints from the glass. She really didn't object any more to displaying both wedding pictures, but as long as the children enjoyed playing Hide-and-Seek with the original photo, she'd go along with it. They'd soon be all grown up and games with their parents would embarrass them, so she'd enjoy it while she could

 

Glancing out the window, Laura could see Rory and the twins still chasing Bogart around the back yard. Wishing she had the energy to join them but knowing she did not, she kicked off her shoes and collapsed on the couch. Her hand touched a solid object as she sat down and she turned to see one of Remington's burglary scrapbooks. He'd first shared them with her during their Le Renard case. It had made Remington seem more human, knowing he'd collected things just like any other red-blooded boy.

 

Smiling, Laura picked up the scrapbook and started flipping through it. Noticing that only half the pages contained clippings, she decided this must have been his last book. Since there weren't many articles and Remington had dinner under control, she decided to read while she rested.

 

********

As soon as she saw the final headline, Laura sat upright and groaned. Marchessa Collection Stolen, Mysteriously Returned.'The name of the newspaper and the date were handwritten above the article. "The Los Angeles Tribune," she read aloud. "November, 1994."

 

Laura would have assumed Remington was resuming his childhood hobby, except for one thing - the handwriting belonged not to her husband, but to Brendan. Quickly flipping back through the book, she carefully checked the dates and the handwriting on each and every article. When her task was finished, she sat back in shock. Every entry was from the past two years.

 

Scrapbook in hand, Laura marched toward the kitchen.

 

"Mr. Steele," she clearly enunciated. "May I see you for a moment in my office?"

 

Remington turned to see Laura standing in the doorway, her fingers drumming on the scrapbook under her arm.

 

"Ah, yes...of course."

 

He dropped the dish towel he'd been using and followed her down the hall into the den, one corner of which was her office.

 

Brendan, in the midst of loading the dishwasher, watched them leave. Judging from the tone of his mother's voice, he knew something was up. He also noticed she was holding one of the burglary scrapbooks.

 

When Remington had first shared his scrapbooks with his son, he explained that it was just something he had done over the years. Brendan had been fascinated and had asked if they could start one together. After some hesitation Remington had agreed, on the condition that it would be their little secret. He had explained to Brendan that his mother might not approve.

 

But now she had found out anyway.

 

That was one thing about Mummy, Brendan thought to himself. Secrets never stayed secrets for very long. She always figured out who was up to what.

 

He was curious as to just what his mother had to say about the father-son scrapbook, so he closed the dishwasher and quietly crept into the den, where he hid behind a wing back chair in a corner. Fearing his hiding place would be detected, he hurriedly eased himself beneath his mother's desk. He'd once asked her why it was her desk and she was the only one who worked at it. After all, didn't his father need a desk, too? She had merely replied, "Your father's skills are hard to define, Brendan. Very hard, indeed."

 

Brendan was still trying to figure that one out, but right now he was concentrating on his parent's conversation. If he angled his head a wee bit to the left, he was in the perfect spot to see all of the action. Caught up in the excitement of the moment as he was, he never gave a thought to the very real possibility of being caught.

 

Laura held the scrapbook for Remington to see.

 

"My scrapbook," he exclaimed, feigning surprise. "Wherever did you find it? I was wondering where it had gotten to."

 

Brendan decided one of his father's skills must be acting.

 

"It was on the couch," she replied tersely.

 

"How in the world did it get there?" Remington asked, still playing innocent.

 

"You tell me. And while you're at it, you can also tell me why every article in there is less than two years old. Resuming your childhood hobby?"

 

Remington took a deep breath, then said, "Laura, there's a perfectly good expla..."

 

"The evidence leads me to believe that you are sharing your...unique...hobby with our son."

 

"Now, Laura, let's not blow this out of proportion," Remington pleaded.

 

"When have I ever blown anything out of proportion?" she contested.

 

Knowing how irrational she could be when she was pregnant, Remington held his tongue and let her remark pass. Then taking her hand in his, he calmly said, "As l recall, you asked me to help Brendan with his reading."

 

"I assumed you would be reading children's stories--Irish fairy tales, or maybe mysteries. But what do I find? First, he tells me the two of you are reading Gone with the Wind. All right, that's not too bad. But now I find this." Waving the scrapbook in front of Remington's face, she continued her tirade. "I do not believe for a minute that Brendan is doing this on his own. I know you're helping him. You treasure these scrapbooks and you would never turn the children loose with them."

 

"If I recall correctly, you once called them amazing."

 

"Knowing you collected something just like other children made you seem more human. Granted, it's not the *kind* of thing most children collect, but still..."

 

He interrupted. "And that's what you object to with Brendan, isn't it? It's the *kind* of thing, eh?"

 

"Yes!" Laura said adamantly. "I'm not sure it's healthy for an eight year old to collect larcenies. Are you?"

 

"I believe it's more than healthy for Brendan to share a hobby with his father. Sort of a father-son thing."

 

"Most fathers play baseball with their sons. They collect comic books, or baseball cards or videos... They *don't* encourage criminology!"

 

"Laura, I'm not encouraging anything of the sort. And I don't take it as lightly as you seem to think. I am merely sharing my childhood hobby with my son. I don't see any harm in that."

 

Brendan almost spoke up, wanting to defend his father and their hobby, but the phone rang. Since Laura was still busy protesting, Remington answered it.

 

He listened for quite a while before finally saying, "Yes, I see...No, no, don't worry about it. We'll be there to pick you up... We're looking forward to seeing you, too." He returned the receiver, saying, "That was Abigail. Her flight has been delayed three hours... Something about a pigeon denting the wing. Anyway, she's been rescheduled on a later flight."

 

"Great," Laura mumbled. She hated it when something disrupted her neatly ordered world. "It will be the children's bedtime by then. How are we supposed to keep them awake? I'm not going to put them to bed just to wake them up again when Mother gets here."

 

"We'll work it out. I'm sure Abigail didn't plan it this way."

 

"Didn't she?" Laura protested. The only good aspect was that it would delay her mother's arrival by at least three more hours.

 

"I've got an idea," Remington said brightly. "We have the limo tonight. We'll get the kids ready for bed and put them in the car. Then instead of going straight to the airport, we'll stop at the drive-in. They're showing The Little Mermaid."

 

Laura mulled over the idea. "Sounds good to me, but we'd better take plenty of blankets and pillows for the little ones. They'll never make it," she said, yawning.

 

"The little ones won't make it, eh?" Remington teased.

 

"I'm sleeping for two," she reminded him, giving him the beginnings of a smile. "Now back to the scrapbook-- I agree that Brendan will benefit from sharing a hobby with you. I just wish you'd have been a little more selective."

 

"Well, you keep all the Atomic Man memorabilia locked in your trunk," he teased. "I had to make do with what I had."

 

"My Atomic Man collection is priceless, I'll have you know," Laura argued, though her anger was waning.

 

"So are my scrapbooks--to me, at least," he said softly.

 

Laura nodded. "All right. I still don't entirely approve, but I'll yield to your judgment. I know you'd never do anything you thought would harm our children. But you have to promise me you'll remind Brendan that while the events in those articles are exciting, they're also illegal, immoral, dangerous and terribly wrong."

 

"That's a promise, Luv. In fact, I'm way ahead of you on that one," Remington assured her, taking the scrapbook so he could put his arms around her. "You have to admit, though, it must be confusing for him to understand that crime doesn't pay, when we make a living at it. We may be the good guys, but all Brendan knows is that we profit because everyone else isn't as despicably honest as his parents."

 

"As long as he aspires to be one of the good guys."

 

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Remington assured her. Just as he leaned forward to kiss, the doorbell rang. "Always something, eh?" he muttered, going to answer it.

 

Laura followed him, not really surprised to see Jackie standing there when Remington opened the door.

 

"Jackie!" he said, grinning as he reached for his wallet. "How much do you need this time?"

 

Jackie laughed. "Not this time. Can we talk?" Nodding a greeting to Laura, he added, "Alone?"

 

Laura got the message, saying, "I'll go get the children ready for dinner."

 

Remington ushered Jackie into the den. Brendan had been just about to leave when they entered, but he quickly ducked back under the desk rather than be caught.

 

Remington leaned back against the desk and asked, "What's the problem?"

 

He regarded the young pickpocket he had helped save from a life of crime. It had taken a while, and over the years Jackie had gotten into his fair share of scrapes, but Remington had always been there to bail him out. He was now working for Monroe, a job Remington had helped him get; after all, what good was being the largest single investor in Monroe's company if he couldn't for a favor now and then? It had now been nearly two years since Remington had needed to intervene with the law on Jackie's behalf, and he was pleased with the progress his young protege had made with his life during those months.

 

"I'm getting married," Jackie announced.

 

"That's terrific, Jackie. Joining the ranks of honest men, eh?" Remington said, walking over and slapping him on the back. "This calls for a celebration. I'll get the champagne." Walking towards the cabinet, he added, "I hope Melissa realizes what a lucky girl she is."

 

"Whoever would have thought when she gave me that parking ticket last year we'd be engaged now?" Jackie asked, plopping down on the couch.

 

Remington looked puzzled. "I thought you said you sweet talked her out of giving you that ticket."

 

Jackie shifted awkwardly. "Yeah, well. Not exactly."

 

"A word of advice, Jackie. If in the future you feel the urge to alter the facts to the little woman, don't. Your lies will always find you out."

 

"Speaking from experience?"

 

"Afraid so," Remington admitted.

 

"I'll try to remember that."

 

"Oh, and another thing," Remington said. "*Don't* refer to her as 'the little woman'."

 

"What *do* l call her?" Jackie asked.

 

Remington just grinned. "Depends on the setting. Just be creative."

 

"Anyway, we got engaged last week and, naturally, I wanted to get her a ring."

 

Remington paled. "Jackie, tell me you didn't..."

 

"No, I didn't!" Jackie assured him. "Well, not exactly, but I might just as well have." He pulled a jeweler's box from his jacket pocket. "This one is just as hot. When I was waiting to pick Melissa up after work today, on her desk was a memo about the theft of this very ring."

 

"Are you sure?"

 

"Am I sure? Man, I know when something is hot! I can't give her a hot ring! She'll bust me!"

 

"Icy calm, Jackie," Remington said, putting a hand on the young man's shoulder upon hearing the rising hysteria in his voice. "Now, tell me how and where you got the ring."

 

Jackie took a deep breath. "Well, when I decided to get the ring I started looking around in jewelry stores, but everything was way too expensive. I knew enough to stay away from pawn shops and Freddy the Touch, even though at that point I was tempted."

 

"Good boy," Remington said, patting his shoulder. "May I see it?"

 

Jackie gave it to him.While he continued telling his story, Remington examined the ring.

 

"Then at one store, the owner asked how much I was willing to spend. When I told him I could swing a down payment of $200 and maybe make payments on $300 more, he said he just happened to have a ring in the back that he'd let go for $250 cash. I guess I should have been suspicious-- a ring of that quality, that cheap... But I was desperate, so I took it."

 

Remington held the ring up to the light, examining it. "Yes, the stone minus the mounting is easily worth ten times that amount."

 

"He said he'd created it for a customer who canceled the order after making a down payment, so he could afford to make me a good deal. l thought I had taken advantage of *him* until I saw the memo. But all that time, he had swindled me."

 

Jackie stared at the floor, feeling both embarrassment and anger at having to come to Remington for another favor.

 

"Don't feel so bad, Jackie," Remington advised. "Love does strange things to all of us. Puts us off balance; blurs our natural instincts and talents. Now, I think the first thing to do is check out the store and the owner. We'll pay a visit to his shop tomorrow during regular business hours and I'll get a feel for the situation. Then, if the situation calls for it, we can always drop by later."

 

Remington couldn't stop the ear-to-ear grin that took over his face. The prospect of breaking in to any place always aroused his senses.

 

It also had the same effect on Brendan, who was still hiding beneath the desk. He quickly decided to follow them. After all, there was no school the next day--and maybe he could even help.

 

"Now, don't worry," Remington said as he showed Jackie out. "This matter may seem complicated now, but it will be easily resolved-- or my name isn't Remington Steele."

 

"Your name *isn't* Remington Steele," Jackie laughed, standing on the front porch. "Monroe told me."

 

"Never mind what Monroe told you. Exaggerations. All exaggerations," Remington chuckled good-naturedly, dosing the door.

 

He then went in search of Laura, finding her in the kitchen feeding rolls to Rory and the twins.

 

"What did Jackie want?" she asked, wishing she could bend over and pick up the crumbs the twins were dropping on the floor.

 

"We need to caucus,"he said, taking her arm and guiding her into the hallway and then over to the den door. As he did so, he sniffed her breath suspiciously, asking, "Is that chocolate I smell?"

 

"No," she said too quickly.

 

"Laura. I know you," he pressed. "You're almost nine months pregnant and your mother is due to arrive in approximately four hours. . ."

 

"Don't remind me."

 

"Really, Laura. Remember the last time your mother was on her way here? I found you in the doghouse sharing Bridge Mix with Bogart."

 

"Once again, I went in to change his flea collar and the box fell out of my pocket," she said sharply. "Oh, all right! So I had one lousy chocolate chip cookie."

 

"Just one, eh?"

 

"One, two, a dozen. What's the difference?" she asked testily. "Now stop changing the subject! What kind of trouble is Jackie in now?"

 

"He needs my help."

 

"Naturally; some things never change. What is it this time?"

 

"Possibly breaking into a jewelry store."

 

"What?" Laura hissed. "That's supposed to reassure me? Look, I know we decided to be honest with each other about everything. But as you said, I'm almost nine months pregnant. Need I remind you that I could go into labor at any time, and we already have five other children? Do you want to be present at the birth of your sixth child? Do you want to be around to watch your children grow up? Or do you want to only see them when I bring them on weekly visits to prison, which is where you will be rotting if you attempt a jewelry store heist!"

 

She had remained remarkably calm during her speech, until the end when she punctuated her point by stomping on Remington's foot.

 

"What happened to the giving wrong message to the little tykes?" he protested, flexing his toes to make sure they weren't broken. "And we're not pulling off a heist, Laura; we're returning something."

 

"One generally uses customer service for that, Mr. Steele. Or is it that you're returning something Jackie's already stolen?"

 

"He isn't a thief anymore, Laura, he reminded her. "But you're partially correct."

 

"Care to explain?"

 

"It's very likely stolen, but Jackie didn't steal it...and neither did I," he added when he saw her eyebrow twitch.

 

He explained Jackie's dilemma, then stepped out of harm's way and waited for her reaction.

 

"Splendid," Laura sighed, leaning back against the wall. "And so naturally, he couldn't wait to share his problem with you."

 

"Laura, we're all he has. I have to help him."

 

"I know you do," Laura sighed. "It's just that Mother's coming, and she already thinks we're leading the children straight to hell."

 

Remington cupped her chin in the palm of his hand and looked into her eyes. "Your mother will never know," he assured her. "We'll simply..."

 

"Spare me the details," she said, shaking off his grasp and refusing to look into his blue eyes. "It's getting late. You finish getting dinner for the kids and I'll get Abby ready. She should be awake from her nap by now. I called Mildred to see if she could pick Mother up, but didn't get an answer. Fred's answering machine isn't turned on, either. They're probably avoiding us."

 

"It doesn't matter, Laura. We have the limo tonight."

 

"What good is a chauffeur when we end up using the limo as a family van?" she asked.

 

She turned to leave, then suddenly remembered something. "If you and Jackie do get into trouble at the jewelry store, where do you keep the key to the safe deposit box?"

 

"In the bedroom safe," Remington reminded her. "It used to be in my sock drawer, but you insisted we move it to a safer place, remember?"

 

"Did you move your will, too?"

 

"Yes., but I'd have preferred keeping it under your panty hose."

 

"What about the insurance policy?" she asked.

 

"I left that under my briefs. It seemed more poetic," he told her, wiggling his eyebrows.

 

"Only you would find poetry in fire engine red briefs," she said, leaving him in the middle of a comeback.

 

Remington watched her go and shook his head. Laura always went a little crazy whenever she was pregnant-- and the older she got, the more pronounced her craziness became. He was wondering how he would survive the next week as he joined the kids in the kitchen.

 

********

A few minutes later, Laura came in with Abby and placed her in the high chair.

 

"Where's Brendan?" Remington inquired. "I thought he'd be with you."

 

"I'll find him," Laura said, shaking her head with a sigh.

 

Just as she disappeared up the stairs, Brendan walked into the kitchen. He'd stayed hidden in the den longer than he'd intended, but had finally decided the coast was clear.

 

"Where have you been hiding?" Remington asked, looking up.

 

Brendan gulped, afraid his father knew he'd been spying. Finally, however, he deduced that his secret was safe so he shrugged and casually replied, "Around."

 

That seemed to satisfy Remington. "Well, wash up and eat. We're going to the drive-in."

 

*********

An hour later Remington had the kids fed and ready to go, but Laura was now missing. He told the kids to wait for them in the car while he went to find her.

 

"Laura!" he called, walking into their bedroom. Thinking she might be in the bathroom, he walked to the doorway and called again. After a quick search confirmed that the room was empty, he sighed and started back downstairs.

 

Rory met him at the bottom of the stairs.

 

"I thought I told you to wait in the car," Remington told his son.

 

"Mum's out there," Rory explained. "She sent me to tell you to hurry up."

 

"Oh? Where was she?"

 

"She came from the backyard."

 

Remington smiled. "Cookie in hand, no doubt."

 

"Hershey bar," Rory corrected.

 

"Where'd she get it?"

 

"She found the one I hid in my sock drawer," Rory sadly explained. "Guess I better find a better hiding place."

 

Remington put his arm around his son's shoulder and walked with him to the car.

 

"A word of advice," Remington said. "Never hide anything from a woman in your sock drawer. That's the first place they look."

 

"Where do you hide things from Mummy?" Rory asked.

 

"In *her* drawers. They're such a jumbled mess, she'd never find anything in there."

 

Rory giggled and Remington shushed him as they approached the car and climbed in.

 

"All set?" he asked, climbing into the driver's seat.

 

"What are we going to see, Daddy?" Laurie asked.

 

"Can I have popcorn?" asked Remy.

 

"You just ate," Remington reminded them.

 

He started the car and swung it around in the driveway. As he did so, he slyly turned to Laura and asked with a smirk, "Enjoy your dessert?"

 

Laura opened her purse and removed the half-eaten candy bar. "I only had two bites! See?"

 

Remington laughed, then reached over and snatched it away from her. "You should know better than to steal from your children."

 

"I'm teaching them not to hide food in their rooms. It draws ants."

 

"Oh, I see," Remington said, lowering the window and tossing out what was left of the candy bar.

 

Laura folded her arms and said, "That's littering, Mr. Steele. You realize you can get arrested for that."

 

"Always concerned for my welfare, aren't you, darling?"

 

Brendan leaned forward and asked, "What's it like in prison, Daddy? Do people really rot in there?"

 

Laura and Remington turned to look at each other, Remington raising his eyebrow. It wasn't the first time their curious oldest son had spied on them, but it *was* a habit they were trying to break him of.

 

"Why do you want to know?" Remington asked cautiously. "Did you hear someone talking about rotting in prison?"

 

Brendan realized his slip. "I just wondered. Brett at school says if you get caught littering, the police throw you in prison and leave you there until you rot." He held his breath, wondering if he'd covered himself or if his parents had figured out that he'd been spying on them earlier.

 

"Yes, well, Brett may have been exaggerating a bit, but he's right about littering being against the law," Remington said, exchanging another look with Laura.

 

"Daddy," Remy asked, "are you going to rot in prison because you threw Mummy's candy bar out the window?"

 

Laurie started to cry and was soon joined by Abby.

 

Laura shot Remington a self-satisfied smirk as he turned the limo around.

 

"Don't cry, sweetheart," Laura said. "Daddy's going to go back and get the candy bar. He's not going to rot in prison."

 

Brendan leaned back in the farthest back seat and let out a sigh. Remy's well-timed question had saved him this time, but he bad a feeling be wasn't out of hot water yet. He'd seen the look his parents had shared. He just hoped Grandma's visit would distract his mother so much she'd forget to ask questions later.

 

************

In spite of the evening's shaky beginning, Laura found herself really getting into the spirit of The Little Mermaid. She and Remington had always considered it to be their favorite Disney movie. They even bought a copy each time it was in video release, afraid the children would wear it out and it wouldn't be re released for a while.

 

They could really associate with Ariel and Eric's frustration in Kiss the Girl. It had been hard enough in the "old days" for them to share an intimate moment without being interrupted by Mildred, an occasional bullet, or ringing phones. But now, with five children, it was nearly impossible. Well, not *entirely* impossible, Laura thought to herself as she smiled and folded her hands over her abdomen--but certainly a challenge.

 

She and Remington had once been naive enough to believe that a sturdy lock on their bedroom door would afford them a measure of privacy. But then, they hadn't counted on their inquisitive eldest son believing that locks were made to be conquered. The more intricate the lock Remington installed, the more determined Brendan had been to pick it. Like his father, he just couldn't turn his back on an impossible challenge.

Laura had finally come up with the solution. She had Remington reinstall the original lock. Since Brendan knew he could handle that one with no problem, the challenge was gone. As a result, their bedroom was once again a safe haven--at least, until one of the children needed something.

Laura was drawn out of her reverie when her entire brood began singing Under the Sea along with Sebastian and his cronies. Good-naturedly, she added her soprano to the chorus. When the number ended, Remington impulsively leaned over Laurie and Remy's heads and gave Laura a kiss.

 

"Daddy!" Laurie reminded him with a great deal of indignation. "It's not time for Kiss the Girl."

 

"It's always time to kiss the girl, darling. Always." To emphasize his point, he quickly gave Laura another kiss.

 

Rory and Brendan leaned over the back of the seat, dodging their heads from side to side.

 

"Hey! We can't see when you do that!" Brendan declared.

 

"You've seen this movie dozens of times," Remington reminded them.

 

"But we've never seen it at the drive-in before!" Rory protested.

 

"Yeah!" three of his siblings said in agreement.

 

"You and Mummy can kiss any time!" Brendan reminded them.

 

"Yeah!" the three older kids echoed.

 

"Any time, eh?" Remington sighed, wishing it were true.

 

Before be could comment, however, there was a tapping on the outside of the car window. Everyone turned toward the window at Laura's right and saw the face of the overly cheerful Barbara Frick, who had been Laura's college roomie on 4-East.

 

"Icy calm, Laura," Remington told his wife, knowing Barbara wasn't her favorite person.

 

"I hear you, Mr. Steele," Laura said through clinched teeth. "I hear you."

 

Remington pushed the automatic window control and Laura was face to face with Barbara's "treachly" smile. Treachly was a word Remington had "coined" years earlier when he and Laura had shared a cup of tea with her during a case. To Laura's amusement, he had said it was a combination of treacherous and phony--and it certainly fit Babs to a tee.

 

After exuberant greetings all around, Babs shook her head in disbelief at the sight before her. "Laura, Laura, Laura," she said in a sing-song voice. "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd be attending a G-rated movie at a family drive-in with a hubby and 1, 2, 3, 4 kids in tow."

 

"Actually, Babs, make that five..." Remington said. Then patting Laura's protruding stomach, he added, "...with number six soon to join us."

 

"Thank you, dear," Laura said to Remington, hating every moment of the current conversation. "And how many children do you have now, Babs?"

 

"The same two as before. The only time our family expands is when we get more goldfish."

 

"Goldfish!" Remington exclaimed in mock delight. "Did you hear that, dear? Babs is getting her feet wet with goldfish!"

 

"We have a dog!" Remy loudly volunteered. "His name is Bogart. . ."

 

"...because Daddy likes to watch Humpty Bogart in the movies!" Laurie finished with enthusiasm.

 

"Does he now?" Babs asked.

 

Not wanting to be left out of the conversation, Rory added, "Bogart has fleas! Daddy says he gonna get us all flea collars to wear so we won't catch them, too!"

 

Remington coughed. Laura tried to hide her laugh by quickly turning her head away from Babs and towards her husband. His eyes were laughing, Laura noted, but he was doing a good job of remaining in control. The topic of flea collars always made them laugh, thanks to the time before their marriage when a flea collar and Laura's sister's flea-bitten dog had provided them with quite a bit of excitement.

 

"Yes, well, you should try goldfish. They never get fleas," Babs said, gloatingly.

 

"Daddy won't let us have fish," Laurie said.

 

"Yeah," continued Remy. "He says that when they die, they float on their backs in the water and then you have to flush them down the.. ."

 

"Mrs. Frick knows all about dead fish, sweetheart," Laura said with a laugh.

 

"Mummy, when mermaids die, do they float on their backs in the water until someone flushes them?" Laurie asked, looking intently at her mother with wide eyes.

 

"Don't be a ninny, Laurie!" Rory chastised. "How could you flush a mermaid? They're too big."

 

"Well, if you can't flush them, what happens to them?" Laurie asked, her lips quivering.

 

"Someone comes along in a boat and eats them," Brendan offered.

 

"No!!" Laurie protested, covering her ears.

 

Remington glared at Brendan. "They go straight to mermaid heaven, Laurie," he said. "You don't need to worry about that now. Ariel is-"

 

Mercifully, he was interrupted by Abby's angry wails. All eyes went to the back of the limo, where Brendan was scooting over to Abby's car seat to check out the problem.

 

"Wet again," he proclaimed.

 

"Daddy! Daddy! I want popcorn!" Remy yelled, bouncing up and down on the front seat.

 

Laurie quickly decided popcorn was more important than dead mermaids and joined the bouncing chorus. As she was sitting on Laura's knees, that wasn't a good idea.

 

"Careful, darling," Remington said as he reached across the seat and took Laurie into his own lap. "Mummy doesn't need your bouncing on her tummy like that."

 

Abby continued to wail.

 

"Anybody gonna change her?" Brendan asked. "She's getting mad."

 

Babs patted Laura's shoulder and gave her another treachly smile, saying, "When I first heard that you and Remington were married, I admit I had my doubts. It's a real relief to know that you're just a traditional married couple like the rest of us."

 

Remington gave Babs his own devious smile and shook his head in agreement, saying, "Yes, that's us, all right. Traditional, all the way. Isn't that right, dear?"

 

Laura turned towards Remington, gave him a murderous look that betrayed the smile on her face and turned back to Babs. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll change Abby now. But it was really nice seeing you again, Babs."

 

When good nights were finally said and Babs was almost out of earshot, Remington called out, "Do come see us, Babs! You can't miss our house - it's the traditional one with the white picket fence. lt's in the hills. Look us up!"

 

Babs suddenly turned, yelling back, "In the hills?"

 

Laura turned to Remington, embarrassment and indignation on her face quickly turning into a laugh.

 

Rory was confused. "We don't have a white picket fence, Daddy. Why did you say we have a white picket fence?"

 

"Daddy was teasing," Brendan explained.

 

"Mummy," Remy asked, thoroughly confused. "How come when Daddy says something that isn't true, it's called teasing. But when we say something that isn't true, it's called fibbing?"

 

Remington wasn't about to get into a discussion on that topic at that particular moment, so he quickly suggested Remy and Rory go with him to get popcorn and drinks while Laura changed Abby.

 

Actually, he wasn't merely trying to postpone a discussion with the children about teasing versus lying; he was hoping to avoid a discussion with Laura about traditional married couples. Not that Barb's comment had particularly bothered him, but Laura's wild eyes had told him in no uncertain terms that it had bothered her. It would be better to let her cool off a while.

 

**********

Remington stood at the refreshment counter with Remy and Rory on either side of him and a counter top of colas and popcorn before him.

 

"Do you have any money, Daddy?" Rory asked.

 

"He means cash," Remy added.

 

"I have not left the house without cash in years-- not in your mother's presence anyway," Remington explained in a loud whisper.

 

When the cashier looked confused, Remington merely smiled and patted Rory's head.

 

"If there were some parking meters around, we could help," offered Rory, giving his father a wistful look.

 

Remington took a deep breath, got a stern look on his face and knelt down beside his middle son. "I don't want to hear talk like that, mate. What you and Brendan did three months ago was an emergency. You were helping Mummy and Daddy. You and Brendan had to repay every cent, remember?"

 

"I remember."

 

"We've been through all of this, Rory, and you said you understood," Remington explained patiently. "Now I don't want to hear any more talk about breaking into parking meters."

 

Slowly breaking into a sheepish grin, Rory said, "I was teasing, Daddy."

 

Remington's face was expressionless for a moment, but then he laughed heartily. Mussing Rory's brown hair, he stood up and once again faced the cashier, asking, "How much?"

 

"Nineteen-fifty."

 

Remington counted the bills in his wallet, then said, "I only have eighteen. I don't suppose you give family discounts?"

 

"Nope."

 

"I told you we needed a parking meter," Rory said, giggling before his dad could comment.

 

"Okay. I'll just, uh, get the rest from my wife."

 

"No way," the cashier said. "You don't come hack, I'm stuck with all this food your kids have handled."

 

"Uh, well, then...Here. I'll leave my watch as collateral," Remington offered, pulling on the band.

 

"I already have a watch."

 

"It's a Rolex."

 

"So is mine, and I bet I paid a third of what you did."

 

"Bought it in a parking lot, eh?" Remington asked.

 

"Something like that," the cashier admitted.

 

"My driver's license, then?"

 

"I don't care who you are. I just want my $19.50."

 

When both boys began pulling on his pants leg,Remington looked down into their excited faces.

 

"Leave us, Daddy-- like you left Mummy in Mexico," Rory said.

 

"You left your wife in Mexico?" the cashier asked.

 

Remington started to comment but then thought better of it and looked down at the boys.

 

"We can handle it, Daddy," Rory declared. "We can be food guarders."

 

"It'll be my first case!" Remy exclaimed.

 

"Is that okay?" Remington asked the cashier.

 

"Yeah, why not? I think you'll come back for them."

 

Remington considered the situation for a moment. "All right, mates," he finally said. "Your assignment is to keep an eye on our food without moving from this spot."

 

"We'll wait right here," Rory assured him.

 

"They'll be fine," the cashier declared. "But make it snappy, okay? Here comes a car load and you'll be holding up the line."

 

With one last look at the boys, Remington quickly left the refreshment shack.

 

He was almost back at the limo when he met Brendan. "What are you doing out of the car?" he asked.

 

Brendan held out a $IO bill. "Mum sent you this."

 

"She did, eh?" Remington scowled, but took it from him. "Come along; you can help us carry everything."

 

"She was right, huh?"

 

"Brendan, your mother is always right... even when it hurts."

 

* * * * *

lt wasn't long before Remington and the boys climbed back into the limo with popcorn and drinks. Laura was already sitting in the back seat, Abby and Laurie on either side of her. Brendan climbed into the front seat and helped his father distribute the food.

 

"We guarded the food, Mummy," Remy declared, sitting next to Brendan. "We didn't even let the fat lady that bumped into Rory take it from us."

 

"You were very brave, sweetheart. But we shouldn't call people fat," Laura said, smiling.

 

Her eyes, however, were on Remington--and they were not smiling.

 

"They did Humpty proud," Remington bragged, handing her the change.

 

"Just don't give them cause to do it again," Laura said over her wax-coated paper cup of cola. She knew she shouldn't be drinking the caffeine, but surely a little wouldn't hurt.

 

"I want to sit in the front again," Laurie shrieked, bouncing up and down in the rear seat and making Laura feel queasy.

 

"Wait a second, sweetheart; you know Mummy's tummy doesn't like to be bounced about," her father instructed her. "Just hang on; I'll come get you."

 

Remington walked around to the rear door and climbed inside. Reaching into the back seat, he lifted Laurie in his arms and held her suspended over the rear of the front seat until Brendan could help her the rest of the way.

 

"I can't believe this," Remington said softly into Laura's ear.

 

"What?" Laura asked.

 

"This," he said, "is the first time in years we've be allowed to sit together in the back seat at a drive-in."

 

Glancing at his watch, Remington put his arm around his wife and prepared to enjoy a few restful moments.

 

* * * * *

Remington looked at his watch again; Laura was sure it was the fifth time, even though she wasn't consciously keeping count.

 

"You keep doing that," she pointed out. "Is something wrong?

 

"It's been running slow; that's all," Remington explained as he shook it and placed it near his ear.

 

"You only use that excuse when you're trying to sneak off someplace. Where is it this time?"

 

"Don't you have that backwards, Mrs. Steele? Under the circumstances, shouldn't I be worried that *you'll* sneak off?"

 

"Don't be silly. I'm thrilled about Mother's visit"

 

"Uh huh," Remington said, unconvinced.

 

In a minute he glanced at his watch again and thumped his fingers on the back of the seat, tapping Laura's shoulder in the process. Then leaning forward, he whispered something to Laurie. When he was sure she understood, he settled back into his seat.

 

Then after glancing at his watch a few more times, he cleared his throat.

 

Laurie suddenly bounced to her knees and leaned over the front seat, announcing, "I hafta go to the bathroom."

 

"I'll take her," Remington offered, quickly climbing out of the car before Laura could protest and opening the front door so Laurie could climb out. Then scooping her up in his arms, he carried her towards the rear of the drive-in.

 

"Where we going, Daddy?" Laurie asked.

 

"On an adventure."

 

"Like Peter Pan?"

 

"Sort of," Remington explained, searching the area for something. Finally spotted what he was searching for, he changed directions.

 

"Isn't that Mummy's car?" Laurie asked in a moment when she noticed the Rabbit in the distance.

 

"Hmm, I do believe it is," her father stated, picking up his pace.

 

"It's Jackie!" Laurie exclaimed in delight when she was close enough to clearly see the figure behind the wheel. "Daddy, why does Jackie have Mummy's car?"

 

"lt's a surprise for your mum," Remington explained. "She and I are going to watch the last part of the movie here by ourselves while Jackie stays with all of you. And you're going to help me surprise her."

 

Laurie giggled, then asked, "How, Daddy?"

 

"You and Jackie will go back to the limo. But right before you get there, he'll hide while you run to the limo and tell Mummy to come look for me. Tell her I need her help."

 

"What do you need her help for?"

 

"Oh, I don't know. Make something up."

 

"We're not supposed to make up things," Laurie chided.

 

"This time it's okay," Remington assured her. "When your mum comes looking for me, I'll surprise her. Jackie will stay with all of you and then he'll take the Rabbit home while we go get Grandma at the airport."

 

Laurie giggled again. "Remy had his first case tonight. Is this mine, Daddy?"

 

"I suppose it is," Remington said. "Now, can I count on you, sweetheart?"

 

"You have my word, Daddy, and a Steele's word is her bond," Laurie assured him. "But Daddy..."

 

"What is it, sweetheart?"

 

"I really do hafta go to the bathroom."

 

* * *

Back in the limo, Laura chewed her thumbnail, and glanced at her watch with a determination that would have made Remington pale. She was just about to about to organize a search party when the back door opened and a breathless Laurie scrambled inside.

 

"Mummy! Mummy! It's Daddy!"

 

"Where *is* Daddy?" Laura asked.

 

"Over there!" Laurie said excitedly, pointing behind the car.

 

"Calm down, darling. Why isn't Daddy with you?"

 

"He's being chased by three big lions! Hurry, Mummy, before they eat him!"

 

"How did you get away?" Laura asked.

 

"Daddy was so brave, Mummy!" Laurie exclaimed, really getting into her 'first case.' "He pushed me in front of him and said he'd hold them off until I could get help! You've gotta hurry!!"

 

"Right!" Laura said, taking charge. "Brendan, you and Rory watch the others. After I lock the doors, don't let any strangers in. And I don't care how badly anyone has to go to the bathroom, no one gets out of this car!"

 

Realizing that Remington was up to something and that Laurie was obviously in on it, Laura played along. After locking the doors, she looked around and quickly spotted Jackie waving to her from behind a nearby car. Waving back, she headed to the back of the drive-in where the restrooms were located, trying to figure what out exactly what her unpredictable husband was up to this time.

 

As soon as she was out of sight, Jackie tapped on the window of the limo. Laurie unlocked the door and let him in.

 

"Hi, kids,"he said in greeting. "Pass me some of that popcorn."

 

They did, while Laurie told everyone about her first case.

 

*****

When Laura spotted Remington leaning casually against the Rabbit, she couldn't help but notice that he was in one piece.

 

"Where are the lions?" she asked, looking around.

 

Following her cue, he scanned the area around them, also. "Lions?"

 

"Laurie said you were being chased by three of them. I hated to tell her your slim frame would hardly interest them."

 

He looked wounded, but then chuckled. "Lions, eh? Well, I told her to think of something, but I didn't expect her to be quite so creative."

 

"I don't see any scratches," Laura remarked. "Any teeth marks I should examine?"

 

"Only yours," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. "But are you going to stand here discussing them, or are you going to get in the car with me?" he asked, opening the door for her.

 

"You're absolutely right. Time's a wasting," Laura admitted, crawling in and watching him walk around to the driver's side of the convertible.

 

"Now, what are you plotting this time, and what is my car doing here?" she asked after he had taken his seat.

 

"Jackie is baby-sitting," he explained, holding out the popcorn Jackie had left for them. "We'll share a few private moments and, after the movie is over, Jackie will return this antique to the garage and we'll all go after your mother."

 

Laura stared at him in disbelief for a few moments. She thought briefly about defending her car, but then thought better of it. Laughed instead, she said, "You old romantic, you."

 

Taking a handful of popcorn, she gratefully rested her head on her husband's shoulder. "Private moments are so few these days. In fact, I was just thinking about that earlier today," she admitted.

 

"You were, eh?" Remington asked, putting his arm around her.

 

"I love all of our children, and I've never regretted having them...but sometimes I wish . . . Well, it's just that ..."

 

When Remington noted with concern that Laura was on the verge of tears, he tenderly squeezed her shoulder, saying, "Out with it, Laura."

 

"How can I explain this? I know it's a terrible thing to say, but sometimes I'm almost jealous of them," she admitted.

 

"It just proves my theory that you're human, Laura,"he assured her, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. "I'm sure every mother who ever lived has felt that way at some point."

 

"What would you say if I told you that I didn't want any more children?"

 

He was momentarily surprised, but did his best not to show it. Then giving her shoulder another squeeze, he asked, "Laura, do you remember what did I told you when Brendan was born?"

 

"You said it didn't matter to you whether we had one child or twenty, but that you would love each and every one we might have as if he or she were the most special child on earth."

 

"I'm relieved to know that pregnancy hasn't diminished your memory," he said.

 

"I certainly never dreamed we would have such a large family, but Brendan was such a joy and you were such a wonderful father and I loved being a mother, so it was the most natural thing in the world to want to multiply that joy. But... perhaps six are enough," Laura confessed.

 

"Six seems an adequate number," Remington agreed.

 

"I'm not sure you know what I'm trying to say," Laura confessed. "It seems *I'm* the one having trouble with the words tonight."

 

"'Come now, Scarlett; you aren't suggesting separate bedrooms, are you?'" he asked in his best Gable impression.

 

"Of course no!" she replied indignantly. "It's just getting to be more than I can handle."

 

"I understand, Luv," he assured her.

 

"There's so little opportunity for spontaneity anymore, professionally or personally," she explained further. "I don't really mind the professional limitations, but I do find the personal limitations frustrating. I mean, when was our last spontaneous romantic interlude?"

 

Remington thought hard for a moment, then said with a smile, "Last month, when we took a two hour lunch at Andre's."

 

"That was nice, but it was planned," she pointed out. "You're always surprising me with unexpected long lunches, relaxing drives along the coast and romantic walks on the beach. But I would hardly call any of them spontaneous; they all took careful planning. You seem to thrive on it, but I feel like a general orchestrating a battle when I plan something as mundane as grocery shopping!"

 

Remington buried his face in her hair. "Laura, I know it's hard sometimes, but. . ."

 

"Who would have thought our life together would be like this?" Laura said with a sigh.

 

"Any regrets?" he cautiously asked.

 

She thought a moment. "No," she admitted with a smile. "None at all. Though it would have been much simpler if I had married Norman the accountant; he only wanted two kids and a Siamese cat."

 

She never thought Remington would take her last remark seriously, but even in the semi-darkness she could see his bewildered expression.

 

"But I wouldn't have had nearly the fun," she said with a smile as she kissed his cheek.

 

"I was afraid, for a moment, you were going to say Norman *Keyes.* I mean, I know pregnancy always make you a bit raving, but that would have been..."

 

Laura elbowed him gently. "I guess what it all comes down to is that I belong to the California generation who protested environmental destruction and civil disobedience. I never thought I'd be so..."

 

"...civilized?" he guessed.

 

"Traditional," she corrected, nearly spitting out the word. "Even Barbara called us traditional. You heard her. And you were worse, with that syrupy tone and treachly smile."

 

She elbowed him again, harder this time.

 

"Laura! I'm sure she won't accept my invitation to visit," Remington said in an effort to placate her.

 

Laura sighed. "At least you rubbed it in a little by telling her we live in the Hills."

 

"Well, we couldn't find a big enough house anywhere else that offered the same security," he reminded her.

 

"Don't spoil it," she warned, though her voice was playful. "I just never expected my life to turn out the way it has; that's all I'm saying."

 

"You know, when you think about it, Laura, we're probably the least traditional couple in America," Remington pointed out.

 

"You once promised me that we'd be the happiest married couple in America."

 

"And are we?" Remington asked.

 

"Sometimes. We do have a good marriage-- better than most. Certainly better than Barbs and what's-his-name, and she thinks her marriage is wonderful."

 

"But you think it could be better?"

 

"I just wish we could recapture some of the excitement, the thrill, the adventure of the old days. You know, all of those things that both attracted me to you and scared the living daylights out of me."

 

"Ah, yes," Remington sighed. "The good old days when you fought my affections tooth and nail."

 

To his amusement, her thoughts suddenly took a different turn. "Do you suppose that old sensitivity spa still exists?" she asked dreamily.

 

"What?" he asked, startled. "Are you saying we need therapy? Come now, Laura, you don't actually buy into all that gop, do you? There's a reason spa is just another way of spelling sap. We don't need outside help."

 

"No, of course we don't," she agreed, chewing on her lower lip.

 

"Want me to write you another letter outlining the reasons I fell in love with you?"

 

"Couldn't hurt," she confessed with a smile.

 

When her hand came into contact with his as they reached for popcorn at the same time, he caught her fingers and squeezed them.

 

"It doesn't have to be the spa," she explained. "Just someplace we can get away for a few days