The girl returned my smile. "I will be in about three seconds." She pushed open the door and I followed at her heels, Tobey trailing me.

"I take it that this is an emergency, hmm?" she said as she opened the register.

"Sorry, I'm just running late. Have any yellow roses?"

"Sure," she beamed. Her sparkling eyes landed on Tobey, then back on me, then on Tobey again.

She recognizes him. Its too early for any of this star-gazing nonsense! I waited for the typical 'Hey, aren't you so-and-so' but she didn't say anything. Only smiled. I turned and found Tobey's eyes grinning - almost as though he knew her.

"Sure," she repeated. "Yellow roses. Half-dozen?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

Still equipped with her Mona Lisa smile, she worked swiftly, knowing we were still in a hurry. She paused and lifted up a plush doll puppy dog - much like the one Tobey had bought me earlier in the week. "Something extra, maybe?"

"Just the flowers thanks," I said, gazing at Tobey quizzically. He looked away and seemed embarrassed for reasons unknown to me.

She rang it up, handed me the lovely bouquet and I handed her the twenty. She flipped her blond hair up as she handed me the change and looked at Tobey once more.

"So! How's it going with the doghouse?"

Is it me, or is Tobey actually blushing?

"Uhhh, it’s going fine," he stuttered, and yes he was blushing obviously now.

“Good, glad to hear it,” the florist said. “Did you like the daisies?” she asked me.

“Daisies?” I gazed at Tobey.

“You know, the pink ones you threw at me a few days ago?” he said. “This is where I got them.”

It was all falling into place now. “Ooooh, they were lovely,” I complimented the salesgirl. “At least they were before I threw them,” I shrugged.

She was laughing with us now. “I had a feeling I should have talked him into something more sturdy, like some carnations,” she joked.

I laughed along with her as Tobey stood cringing by my side.

“Well, thanks for everything,” I told her, taking the roses. “You have a gorgeous shop.”

“Oh thanks,” she said, “it’s not mine, I just do this part-time during school holidays. I teach Pre-K.”

I smiled. “I’m doing my student teaching next semester at USC.”

“Oh well good luck. Come see us again,” she offered. “But no more doghouse.” She waggled her finger playfully at Tobey, who cringed once more as we giggled.

He squinted at her nametag. "Thanks again, Barb. Merry Christmas."

He took my arm and we left.

“What was that about?” I asked as we got into the car.

“I dunno,” he said, “she’s funny and all, but I feel like she can see right through me.”

“She’s a fan,” I said simply.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“I do.”

“She thinks I’m a dork,” he said.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “She does.”

* * *

Leo was groggy when he opened the door, his blond hair poking up in every direction, his eyes bleary with sleep.

I handed him the roses immediately and gave him a bear hug.

“What are these for?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

I just quietly kissed him on the cheek. “For all you’ve done for me, Leo. For us.”

His face turned pink as he regarded the roses, shrugging. “Thanks, but Nat . . .”

“You’re a sweetheart.”

His face went from pink to crimson, and he seemed speechless for a moment. “You shouldn’t have let them wrap these in this cellophane, Nat,” he said, gazing at the roses. “It’s not biodegradable.”

Tobey cut the sentimental mood short by scolding him. "You're not dressed!"

"Yeah I am," he said, slightly offended.

"Oh. . . well, it's just that. . . your hair, Leo!"

"Ohhh, that," he chuckled. I walked into the entryway and found Monica behind him, sheepish for the first time in her life, hair in a similar state-- makeup smudged.

The light went on. "Ohhh," I breathed. "Gotcha." I winked at Mon and she grinned as her face turned the same shade as Leo’s.

"Come on," Tobey rolling his eyes, "we're gonna be late."

* * * *

Airport security was tight as hell, it being Christmas week and all. We weren't allowed to park alongside the curb, so we had to hike it from the parking lot. It was okay, because there was only one suitcase between us. Other travelers, however, loaded with several bags, weren't so happy. We made a break for it through the terminal toward the gate, waved goodbye to Leo and Monica, and were ushered quickly onto the plane-- it was packed. I began pushing my way towards the cabin when Tobey grabbed hold of my hand.

"Where are you going? This is us," he nodded towards two seats in first class. I tried to play it cool, but the truth is I was freaking out inside. I'd never flown first class before, and felt strangely unworthy as I slid into the oh-so comfortable seats. The passengers around us were staring and I was certain it was because I stuck out like a sore thumb. Then I realized they most likely staring at the man now fastening my seat belt than at me.

He kissed me softly as he finished. "You okay?"

"Y-y-yeah," I said unconvincingly. The stares from the first class passengers were killing me.

Thank God Tobey knew what was wrong. "It's okay," he whispered. "They'll forget about us in a couple minutes." He squeezed my hand just as they plane became airborne.

The flight attendant was starting to serve us breakfast. I knew that Tobey wasn't even going to bother looking underneath the tray-- airline food would probably land him in the hospital and we all know he'd more than enough of that!

"Confession: I've never flown first class before," I said as I fiddled around with all the nifty amenities. "Oh my gosh -- you can even play video games here. . ."

"Get your excitement now," he chortled. "Won't find too much of it in Medford, Oregon."

* * *

We walked off the plane and into the waiting area, Tobey's Laker’s cap pulled down tight.

"See your Mom anywhere?"

His eyes scanned the faces. "I don’t see her--"

"TOBEY!"

Tobey let out a grunt as two kids plowed into him, knocking him back a few steps. Two adorable chubby boys were clinging to him, one on each side, talking a hundred miles per hour at the same time.

"Tobey, Tobey, Tobey! I missed ya Tobey! Whatcha bring me?!"

"-- Dad's coming up the escalator right now-- we got lost on the way over and he got reeeally mad and flipped off a car--"

"--Whatcha bring me?!"

"--and the car pulled us over 'coz it was a cop--"

"--whatcha bring me?!"

"--and it was a girl cop and I think she liked Dad--"

"--Whatcha bring me?!?"

"OKAY!" Tobey was half yelling, half-laughing. "Weston, calm down, you'll get your presents when we get home! First I want you two to say hi to Natalia, you remember?"

I was loving it! They were simply too adorable for words!

"Hello," they both said slowly, suddenly going quiet which surprised Tobey.

"Don't pretend to be shy! Go on, give her a hug!"

"We can't."

"Why on earth not?"

Jopaul mumbled as he spoke, "Because Mom told us that if we even touched your girlfriend she'd pack us up and send us to a boarding school in Siberia."

I stifled a laugh as did Tobey.

"When did she tell you that?"

"After Weston told that cop that Mom wanted to ask him out on a date." His voice got lower, "Mom said a lot of things after that. . ."

"I'm sure she did!" Tobey laughed.

"Well she did want to ask him out," Weston defended. "I could tell!

Tobey laughed again and kissed them both on the foreheads. "God, I missed you kids."

"Then you can have them! Please!"

We looked up to find Wendy hurrying towards us. Her hair was a bit disheveled and her scarf was tied askew, but that was little wonder with how absolutely packed the airport was.

She bade us hello, but I could definitely tell that she was tired. She smiled the nervous smile of someone trying to hide the fact they are ready to pull their hair out.

Tobey picked up on it too. "Long day, eh?"

"You have no idea. And these monsters here. . ."

"Yeah, they told us all about it,” said Tobey, playfully flicking Weston’s ear who had thrown himself against his big brother’s leg.

“We could just leave the boys here, if you like” said Tobey. “No court of law would ever convict you.”

"Welcome to Medford," Tobey whispered as we sped through the tiny town center.

"Let me guess: it's a hellhole, right? Two motels and a mannequin factory?" I'd stolen the line from my favorite of his films. He shook his head and slipped his hand behind me, inching his fingers down my side to . . .

"You tickle me and you're dead meat," I warned.

He stopped immediately, probably remembering the last time he'd tickled me I'd nearly knocked the wind out of him!

Wendy Epp resided in a respectable home in a quintessentially suburban neighborhood. Outside in the front lawn, toys could be seen lying haplessly about. She tripped over what appeared to be an army action figure and shot daggers at the boys.

"I told you to pick up before we left! And these are your new toys from Christmas! I can't believe you just left them lying here in the open! Perfect invitation for someone to just pick them up! I don't know why I bother getting you anything at all--"

Tobey and I trailed behind them as we walked up the high front steps, softly laughing as Wendy continued on on her soapbox, Jopaul and Weston hanging their heads in shame like mournful little puppies.

I smiled as we stood in the entranceway. It was a comfortable home that had most definitely been decorated by Wendy’s mom. The house held the same charmingly mismatched appeal as Tobey’s wardrobe.

"--if your Aunt knew about this, she'd burst into tears, just throwing around her presents. I've had just about enough of--"

"She'll go on at them forever if we don't stop her," Tobey whispered. "Hey Mom? Are we sleeping in the guest room?"

"Huh? Oh yeah. Upstairs, come on." She turned back to the boys one last time. "You stay down here and think about what you've done today!"

He led us upstairs, obviously still disconcerted.

"Oh come on, Mom. They're jud kids," said Tobey as we entered the simple guestroom.

"I know, I know," she grumbled. "I'm turning into the old fart I always swore I'd never be."

"Well . . . with JP and Weston, it is very easy to become an old fart."

By the time we'd settled in and ventured downstairs again, the boys were lounging quietly on the sofa, sipping Capri Suns and watching cartoons. Tobey took a seat next to them and I watched from the recliner across the room.

"Hey," he said, poking Jopaul's arm.

"Hey," Jopaul answered sounding very forlorn.

"You know that's just how Mom is."

"Yeah."

"Well . . . I have something to cheer you up."

That worked. Jopaul and Weston sprung to attention and Tobey pulled out the gifts he’d brought along for them.

"Oohhhh," Weston squealed, ripping open a package. In his hand he held a video game. "Alllriiiiiiiight! Even Brad Williams didn't get this for Christmas! ALRIGHT!"

I was beaming-- it was obvious that Tobey was reliving his childhood through these two boys. He sat there with them as they gushed over their gifts, instructing Weston how to use his top of the line new radio control four-by-four and answering Jopaul's endless questions on how cool was it was getting to be a super-hero. There was unmistakable pride in both boys that their big brother was an action hero. After all, it is every seven and ten-year-old's dream to be one!

I stepped outside onto the porch, wanting to leave them alone. At home, looking across the street you saw . . . well, more buildings and the brown hills behind them were sometimes visible in all the smog. Here the greenery was seemingly infinite. And even on the clearest of days in Los Angeles, I'd never seen a sky quite so blue in my life. The air was cold -- downright frigid and there were signs of Christmas to be found everywhere-- namely, the snow that still lay in the gutters. Here it felt like Christmas, whereas in Los Angeles, you really needed a calendar to tell you if it was Christmas-time or not.

"Like it?"

Tobey had appeared beside me, and I could hear the two boys inside playing video games.

"It's gorgeous."

"Mmmm. Furthest thing there is from Los Angeles, right?"

"Your Mom didn't like it there?"

He bit the corner of his lip thoughfully."Sure, she liked it. But sometimes people just want… a clean slate.”

We cuddled on the porch swing for a considerable portion of the afternoon, even though the thermometer was barely over fifty. We were bundled in blankets together, sipping on tea (him) and cocoa (me). It probably wasn't a good idea since Tobey still wasn't entirely well, but . .. I made sure that I was giving him enough body heat.

When the sky was getting dark, we went back inside-- Tobey to play video games with the boys and myself to help Wendy with dinner. She was making a veggie casserole since the leftover turkey and ham from Christmas dinner would have meant nothing Tobey would eat.

I was helping her by chopping a tomato. “Your son should really be doing this, not me. He’s a whiz in the kitchen."

She smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment since I’m the one who taught him everything he knows.”

"Well, next to me, I'm sure you are a regular Wolfgang Puck."

Next thing I knew we were setting the table and tasting his sensational creation. Tobey called me a brown noser for it, but I was sincere when I told him it was the best casserole I'd ever tasted.

* * *

Once Tobey and I had the dinner dishes washed and put away, Tobey rallied the boys and got them loaded in the car, they were dying to see Lord of the Rings again, especially because the Spider-Man trailer was shown in the previews before the film. I grabbed an extra sweater and slid into the passenger seat, the boys bouncing in the back.

“I bet your Mom is really grateful to get a quiet evening in,” I whispered to Tobey.

“Oh she gets a fair share,” Tobey countered, “they’re with their dad two days a week.”

“Hey Nat,” JP shouted close to my ear, “there’s this really scary part where Frodo has the ring and . . .”

“Don’t tell me, JP! I haven’t seen it!” I squealed at him.

“I bet you’ll be sooooo scared,” he taunted me, “this movie is way too scary for girls!”

“Hey!” Tobey hollered playfully at him, and both boys collapsed with laughter.

* * *

Once we hit the multiplex, Tobey sent the boys off with a few dollars to play video games while we stood in line for the tickets. Laker’s cap pulled low, Tobey blended in with the crowd of high school boys surrounding us all but for the sea of green Medford High jackets most of the guys wore.

Once we had the tickets, I moved to the line at the concession stand while Tobey went to round up the boys. They caught up to me just in time to help carry the jumbo buckets of popcorn and boxes of M&M’s.

“I wanted plain ones,” Weston whined.

“I got you plain ones, honey,” I told him. “JP and Tobey have peanut M&M’s, Weston has plain.” I smiled at him.

“Good,” he said, and took my hand, his grin a reflection of Tobey’s. “But what kind did you get?”

“Me? I got Raisinettes, silly.”

“Ewww, JP's right, girls are weird,” he said, wrinkling his nose.

Right then, two young girls came right up to us out of the blue.

“Ohmigosh, you look just like Tobey Maguire, are you really him?” one rattled out so fast that it took us a few seconds for our brains to catch up.

“My friend over there is like so freaking out right now she’s all like ohmygod he so does not go to Medford that is Tobey-freaking-Maguire and so I told her I’d come over and ask if it’s you and if it’s not I’ll feel so stupid, ohmygod!!!” the other one said, all in one breath.

“Hi,” Tobey smiled at them.

“OH MY GOD!” they both screamed

“Shhhhhhhhh!” Tobey and I hissed at the girls in unison.

“OK, OK, I’m cool, I swear,” the first one breathed. “I’m sorry! Ohmygod! Well it was nice to meet you!”

And then they both ran off.

Jopaul turned to Weston. “See? I told ya girls are weird!”

* * *

I sat on the edge of the bed in Wendy’s guest bedroom, watching her son neatly fold the clothes that still lay in the open suitcase at the foot of the bed. He placed them in neat side by side stacks after he found the plaid PJ pants and white T-shirt he’d been searching for. My nighty lay in my lap as I pondered the situation at hand. Tobey and I had not shared a bed since . . . since before I’d been drugged and raped.

My stomach twisted in knots as Tobey recanted something funny Weston had said earlier during one of the two readings of The Polar Express the boys had begged off Tobey before going to bed. I couldn’t get my mind to focus on his words, I didn’t know what he was saying. I heard Tobey laugh and offered a weak smile as a sign that I too was amused by what he was saying.

“Natalia,” Tobey said.

“Hmmm?”

He moved from the spot where he was crouched on the floor and slid onto the edge of the bed next to me.

“Are you tired?” he asked, touching my hair. “It’s been a long day.”

I nodded in agreement, feeling my stomach do flip-flops as Tobey rose from the bed and proceeded to change clothes.

“Well, let’s get you to bed,” he was saying, “you can get a good night’s sleep, OK?”

I fumbled with the nightgown in my lap – a modest lavender-colored long sleeved knit number meant for warmth and comfort. I slipped it on over my head and removed my tank top and jeans from underneath its confines, feeling shy and modest in this small room and it’s dim lighting. Tobey was turning the covers back on the bed and I felt a cold wave go through me. I couldn’t do this, it was too much, too soon, and my hands were trembling as I folded my jeans and dropped them onto the open suitcase.

“You want the left side or the right?” Tobey asked.

“Hmmm?” I glanced at him, distracted. What had he just asked me?

“Natty, what’s wrong?”

“Umm, I – “

“Come here,” he said softly, reaching for me.

I was as surprised as Tobey when my body instinctively pulled away from his reach.

“Nat - ”

I glanced at his face, the fear showing in my eyes, I knew.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” he said.

“No, I - ”

“It’s OK, I won’t touch you,” he said softly. “I understand . . .”

I watched him for a moment, then sat on the foot of the bed, no longer able to hold myself upright.

“I’m not ready,” I whispered.

“I know,” Tobey said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed near me. “It’s OK. Someday you will be, and you can just give me some sort of little sign . . .”

I let my eyes meet his now, they were so serious and yet so full of warmth, I could feel it wash over me. I felt myself relax a bit, just a little, and I breathed a real breath of air. Finally.

Tobey’s hand slowly moved over, just barely touching mine. “The boys – you know, they have bunk beds. The bottom bunk is a full-size. I’ll just go crawl in next to Wes . . .”

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“It’s perfectly OK, I don’t mind,” he said. “You’re here with me, Natty. That’s all I really need.”

Tobey stood and gently kissed the top of my head. “I love you,” he whispered.

“Love you,” I whispered in return.

* * *

Somewhere in my foggy sleep, a rustling sound came into my awareness, breaking through the heavy clouds of slumber that weighed upon my consciousness, pulling me towards the waking world. More rustling was heard, and then a thump.

“OW!” was the sharp whisper I heard next that sent me bolting upright in the unfamiliar bed.

“Tobey?” I mumbled.

“Oh shit, hon, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I was trying to be quiet.”

“Are you OK?”

“Yeah, I just severed a toe is all,” he said sitting on the foot of the bed. “Sorry I woke you.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Natty, I was just getting something to change into,” he said. “Weston’s bladder apparently doesn’t hold forty-four ounces of Mountain Dew overnight.”

“Oh no . . .” I groaned. “Is he OK?”

“He’s fine, he never even fully woke up. I got him washed up and changed and the bed changed. By then I was nearly dry, but . . .” In the darkness I could just make out the wrinkling of Tobey’s nose. “. . . ewww,” he finished eloquently.

I laughed softly. “Poor kid,” I said.

“He’s just a little boy, little boys have accidents,” Tobey said.

“I meant you,” I said, knowing that somebody else’s urine crossed all boundaries of Tobey’s hygiene standards.

“Oh.” He shrugged in the darkness. “Well, I’ll live.”

I moved from my spot under the covers and crawled over nearer to him, spontaneously wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “You’re a good brother,” I whispered, resting my head against the back of Tobey’s neck. He softly caressed my arm for a moment.

“This isn’t the little sign, is it, the one I mentioned earlier?” he asked hesitantly.

“No,” I said simply.

“Didn’t think so,” his disappointment was clear.

“But if you can be good, I’ll let you get under the covers,” I told him.

He glanced over his shoulder at me, raising an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten how good I can be?”

“I meant good as in well-behaved,” I explained, “now you can do that or you can go back to the bed wetter.”

“OK, OK,” he grumbled playfully. “Not exactly a fair choice, but I can deal with it.”

We crawled back to the head of the bed together, pulling the covers around us. I curled onto my side, the pillow scrunched under my head. Tobey nestled against my back, carefully placing his arms around me protectively, my head resting on his bicep. I allowed myself to relax, and sink against him comfortably as the clouds of slumber fell upon me once more.