"I'll get it," Jessie announced when the doorbell upstairs rang.

"We'll be right back, Bobby," Greg told their guest as he went with Jessie to answer the door.

"Do you need help, Mom?" Matt asked as Susan looked up from washing the dishes.

"No. This can wait, Matt. Let's go greet your grandparents. I'm sure they won't mind if I finish this while we're visiting."

"Yeah, probably. Grandma would probably join you, if you asked," Matt said.

"She would, but I won't ask. It isn't fair to ask her to clean up after a meal she didn't share," Susan said, and she set her apron aside to follow the rest of her family up the stairs.

Mr. Simms made a half-hearted attempt to follow them, and made it as far as the library when the sound of voices that were new to him reached him. He looked up the remaining half-flight of stairs into the living room to see an elderly man, also using a cane, standing in the middle of the Abernathy's living room. Beside him stood a woman who looked younger, but probably wasn't.

"You made good time," Susan was saying.

"Your father couldn't wait to get here, Susie," the woman said.

"I see we're the first to arrive, as usual," the older man said.

"No you're not, Grandpa," Jessie said. "My Grandpa Bobby is already here."

"You're grandpa what?" the man asked.

"My Grandpa Bobby. He's right there," Jessie said, pointing to Mr. Simms who was just then coming up the last half-flight of stairs, leaning heavily on his cane with his left hand and holding the rail firmly in his right.

"Do you need help?" Greg asked turning to come to his aide.

"I've just about got it, Greg. But thank you," Mr. Simms said.

"Mom, Dad, I'd like you to meet Mr. Robert Simms. He's Jessie's great-grandfather. I think we may have mentioned him when we were visiting with you last December?" Susan reminded them.

"So you did," Mr. Abernathy recalled.

"I'm Dick Abernathy, Susan's father. This woman here is Mildred, my wife," Mr. Abernathy said.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Abernathy. My last name is Simms, as Greg said, but I generally go by 'Bob'," Mr. Simms said, shaking the other man's hand as he arrived at the top.

"I'm 'Dick' then," Mr. Abernathy told him. "Did you just arrive this evening?"

"No. I've been here a few days. Your daughter was kind enough to bring me home with her when she was in the Bay Area for work last Wednesday. She offered to give me the opportunity to get to know my great-granddaughter by inviting me to come for her birthday party tomorrow. Greg extended the invitation by asking me to stay for Passover next week as well," Mr. Simms explained.

"I didn't know Jessie's family is Jewish," Mrs. Abernathy said.

"Her mother wasn't," Mr. Simms told her.

"Hers was a mixed family, Mildred, like ours," Greg said. "Bobby ... or Bob if you prefer?"

"Either," Mr. Simms told him.

"As I was saying, Bobby is related to Jessie through her father's side of the family," Greg told them.

"Robby was my name-sake," Mr. Simms said.

"That means they had the same name," Jessie explained.

"Oh, I see," Mr. Abernathy told her. "I'm pleased to meet you, Bob."

"I am too," Mrs. Abernathy said. "Susan? Do you know where you want us?"

"In the end room on the south side this time," Susan told her. "It is closer to the parking area so you won't have as far to bring your luggage."

"The little apartment is closer to your elevator," Mr. Abernathy pointed out. "You're mother tells me you actually put one in."

"We did and it's working, but Mr. Simms is using those rooms since he's here for a longer stay," Susan explained.

"Could we stay in the one on the end on that side?" Mr. Abernathy wondered.

"Sure, if you'd rather do that, it's okay with me. I was going to put Stephen and Jenny in the middle room on the south side and let them use the adjoining one for their girls," Susan told them.

"All the more reason to be on the other side. Something tells me Bob would be a quieter neighbor than my son's family with their two adolescent girls," Mr. Abernathy said.

"Okay. Then Rosemary can have the end room again, if she stays," Susan said. "Boys, could you help Grandma bring the suitcases in?"

"Sure Mom," Matt said. "Come on Zack."

"Yeah, okay," Zack agreed.

"Which ones do you want in, Grandma?" Matt asked.

"The two in the trunk; I don't need the bags in the back seat until tomorrow morning," Mrs. Abernathy said, handing Matt the keys.

"Do you need to sit down, Dad?" Susan asked as her father leaned heavily on his cane.

"I would like to visit," Mr. Abernathy told her. "Where would you suggest? In here? In the library? In your family room?"

"I just came up those stairs, so if you don't mind, I'd rather stay in here," Mr. Simms told them. "I haven't spent much time up here so far, but the view is spectacular through these windows."

"It is, isn't it?" Mr. Abernathy asked rhetorically as he made his way to stand close to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Mr. Simms joined him. "This is quite a place your daughter and son-in-law have here," he commented.

"It's quite comfortable," Mr. Abernathy agreed. "Greg and his architect did a wonderful job designing it."

"Did you have this house built?" Mr. Simms asked Greg as he joined the men in front of the window.

"I did," Greg said.

Susan stood back beside her mother, holding Melody in her arms as she watched the three men standing in front of the window conversing. Seeing them again in profile, it struck her again just how much Greg and Mr. Simms resembled one another, causing Susan to mentally pause. There must be a reason for that, she thought, and she wondered if they'd ever have the opportunity to figure it out. Eventually the men moved to the grouping of chairs closest to the window, about the same time the boys came back inside.

"Where do you want these, Grandma?" Matt asked as he and Zack came through the front door with the suitcases and he handed his grandmother the car keys.

"In my room, Matt. The end one on the north side," Mrs. Abernathy said.

"Cool," Zack said.

"Why is it cool?" Mrs. Abernathy asked.

"We get to use the elevator again. Come on, Matt," Zack said.

"Can I come too?" Jessie asked.

"Sure," Matt told her, and the two boys accompanied by Jessie made their way down the half-flight of stairs to the library, where they disappeared through the bookcase door.

Mrs. Abernathy watched them go with a hint of amusement in her expression.

"How is my youngest granddaughter?" Mrs. Abernathy asked Melody from where she was watching everything that was going on from Susan's arms.

"Growing, thriving, and generally enjoying life," Susan said.

"Do you want to come to me, Melody?" Mrs. Abernathy invited.

"Grr ma," Melody said and she reached for her.

"Hi," Mrs. Abernathy said in surprise. "Do you know that's my name, or was that just a happy accident?"

"She seems to know," Susan told her. "She's got names for almost everybody now."

"That's amazing Susan. Didn't Dr. Bowers say her development would continue to be slow?" Mrs. Abernathy asked.

"He did, and it is. She seems to be talking a little bit early, but she's still no closer to pulling herself up or walking that she was in February," Susan told her.

"Oh well. She'll get it," Mrs. Abernathy said confidently. "Do you need any help, Susan?"

"Not really. I do need to make Jessie's birthday cake this evening. That's a one person job, but you can keep my company in the kitchen while I do it, if you want," Susan invited.

"I'd love to," Mrs. Abernathy said.

c

Mr. Simms turned briefly from the window when he noticed the women going down the stairs.

"Where are they going?" he asked the other men.

"Probably to the kitchen," Mr. Abernathy told him.

"More than likely," Greg agreed.

"Mildred and Susan seem to spend most of their time there whenever we're visiting," Mr. Abernathy added. "Not that I mind, mind you. They do tend to cook up the tastiest things when they are in there."

"I think at the moment they may be working on Jessie's birthday cake," Greg told his father-in-law. "I got the distinct impression Susan has been waiting for Mildred to arrive to do it."

"Which is more or less what I just said," Mr. Abernathy told him.

"It is," Mr. Simms agreed. "My late wife ... my second one, she liked to cook too."

"How many lives have you had?" Mr. Abernathy asked.

"Excuse me?" Mr. Simms asked.

"Oh ... pardon me, I meant to say wives, not lives," Mr. Abernathy clarified.

Mr. Simms glanced at Greg in surprise. His host shook his head marginally and the conversation went on as before, with both men neatly ignoring Mr. Abernathy's slip of the tongue.

c

The hour grew late as the women worked in the kitchen. Greg came in once to check on them, and found two round cakes and a sheet cake cooling on racks. Susan was in the process of mixing up filling for the cakes while Melody made her way around the islands in the kitchen in her walker, using her lock knees and lean method.

"Do you need any help?" Greg asked.

"No, thank you. We're quite enjoying ourselves talking in here," Susan assured him.

"Have you seen the other children?" Greg wondered.

"Yes. I think they're all in Jessie's room," Susan told him.

"Is it time to give her a bath, Susan?" Mrs. Abernathy asked.

"It will be soon ... or she may want to take a shower. She's been doing that more lately," Susan told her mother.

"Already? Lisa didn't start doing that until she was eleven. Amber still isn't, and she'll be eleven soon," Mrs. Abernathy said.

"I think Jessie prefers it because of her hair. It's getting so long, it's easier to wash in the shower," Susan said.

"I suppose it would be," Mrs. Abernathy said.

"How's Bobby doing?" Susan asked Greg.

"Fine. He and your father are visiting. I think Dick's surprised to find someone older than he is visiting our house," Greg remarked.

"Probably," Susan said.

"Why? How old is he?" Mrs. Abernathy asked.

"Ninety-one," Susan answered.

"Oh my! That is quite a bit older than we are, Susie," Mrs. Abernathy remarked.

"Yes, it is," Susan agreed as she set the filling she was working on aside and washed her hands in the sink. "I'll get Jessie started on her shower," she said to no one in particular, leaving her mother and Greg behind.

Mr. Abernathy and Mr. Simms had joined Mrs. Abernathy in sitting at the kitchen counter by the time Susan returned. Greg was with them and the four sat talking together amicably with Melody still in her walker in the kitchen.

Susan went back to working on Jessie's birthday cake. She prepared the frosting next while they visited, watching her as she arranged one of the round cakes on a special platter, covered the top with the prepared filling and set the second round cake layer on top of it. Susan cut the sheet cake in half and prepared to give it a similar treatment, while also sealing the cut ends in frosting. The round cake she covered in pale pink frosting while what was becoming a rectangular layer cake was covered with frosting with a slight coral tint. She was just beginning to make up and color the decorators icing when Melody began to fuss.

"Would you like me to do that?" Mrs. Abernathy offered when Susan had to stop again to tend the baby.

"Please. I was planning to decorate around the edges, then write her name in white and green frosting," Susan explained.

"Are you going to do leaves too?" Mrs. Abernathy asked.

"And probably a flower or two around her name if there's room," Susan said.

The men paused their conversation long enough to listen in on Susan and her mother. Mr. Simms watched them intently, his eyes following Susan when she left the room.

"Is something wrong?" Greg asked the old man.

"No, Greg. Something is right. I mourned the loss of Jessie and the rest of my family a long time. I couldn't see what good could come of it. Why the Lord would take so many people so young, leaving me behind," Mr. Simms said.

"And now?" Greg prompted.

"Now I see the Lord has provided Jessie with a home, with loving, supportive, responsible parents to care for her while she is growing up, and a new family to surround herself with. I still do not see why the Lord has spared me, unless perhaps it was to give me the opportunity to see it for myself," Mr. Simms said.

Greg studied the old man while Mr. Abernathy listened and Mrs. Abernathy finished decorating Jessie's birthday cake.

"That may be," he started to say when they were interrupted by Jessie, coming to say goodnight to them in her pajamas, with her long wet hair mostly combed out down her back.

"Did you do that yourself?" Greg asked.

"Matt helped," Jessie told him. "Where's Mama, Papa?"

"She's getting Melody ready for bed," Greg said.

"Are you going to do a special story tonight?" she asked.

"I can if you'd like," Greg told her.

"Okay. Can I tell Mama and Melody? They might want to listen too," Jessie said.

"I know I do," Mrs. Abernathy told her.

"What about you, Dick?" Mrs. Abernathy asked her husband.

"I don't mind if I do," Mr. Abernathy said, using his cane to rise from his chair. "Are you coming?" he asked Mr. Simms.

"Do I want to hear this?" Mr. Simms asked.

"In this case, you do," Mr. Abernathy told him. "We'll meet you in your bedroom, Jessie. Go tell your Mama."

"Okay," Jessie said with a grin and she went off to the nursery to ensure Susan and Melody knew about the story.

c

The entire household was in Jessie's bedroom to hear her special bedtime story that evening. The two grandpas sat at one end of her bed, while the children occupied the middle, and Mrs. Abernathy sat near the head of the bed with Jessie beside her. Susan satisfied herself with sitting on the floor with Melody on her lap.

"Are we ready?" Greg said.

"Ready, Papa," Jessie said with a grin.

Greg smiled. "Then let us begin."

The next thirty minutes were taken up by Greg's dramatic performance of one of Jessie's favorite bedtime stories, after which everyone else left and she went to bed.

"Good night, Jessie," Susan said as she kissed her cheek while Jessie lay in her bed. "I hope you had a good birthday, even though your party is tomorrow."

"I did," Jessie said with a yawn. "Mama, doesn't Melody need to go to bed too?"

"She is. I'm taking her to bed now," Susan told her.

Jessie nodded in her bed. "Good night, Mama."

Susan smiled, rubbed her back for a moment and put out the light.

The adults were back in the kitchen talking when Susan emerged from Jessie's bedroom carrying Melody. She took the baby to say goodnight, then she put her to bed too. By the time she returned, Mrs. Abernathy was putting the finishing touches on Jessie's cakes, and both Mr. Abernathy and Mr. Simms were talking about turning in.

"It sounds like tomorrow is going to be a busy day," Mr. Simms commented.

"It is," Susan told him.

"Then if you don't mind, since we have all had our bedtime story, I think I'll turn in too," Mr. Simms said.

"I am too, Susie," Mr. Abernathy said. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay, Dad," Susan said.

"Are you coming, Mildred?" Mr. Abernathy asked.

"It a few minutes, Dick. I need to finish talking to Susan about the food," Mrs. Abernathy said.

"I'll show you where the elevator is, Dick," Greg offered.

"I'd appreciate that," Mr. Abernathy said.

And Greg accompanied the two older men up to the library and through the bookcase door into the cave.

"What about you two?" Susan asked her sons who were strangely enough, still hanging out in the kitchen.

"I don't need to go to bed," Matt said. "But I probably should talk to Ashley about tomorrow."

"Ian's probably on line. I think I'll see if he wants to play something," Zack said, and the two boys headed towards their rooms.

Susan stood in the now deserted kitchen sharing a look with her mother.

"How are you doing?" Susan asked her.

"I'm fine, Susan."

"Thank you so much for finishing the cake ... both of them," Susan told her.

"Is it the way you wanted it?" Mrs. Abernathy asked.

"It is," Susan said.

"I have to ask you ... why did you make two?"

"Because Jessie wanted a round one this year, and that wouldn't serve enough people. So I made the rectangular one a different flavor so we have enough for everybody and we're more likely to have a flavor everybody likes," Susan explained.

Mrs. Abernathy smiled. "You know, so many little girls seem to prefer a round cake to a rectangular one. I don't know why that is, but both Amber and Lisa have gone through a phase like that too."

Susan smiled. "I don't know either ... but I remember thinking the same thing at her age, so I agreed."

"You are a good mother, Susie," Mrs. Abernathy told her daughter.

"Thank you, Mom."

"Is there anything more you need to do to be ready for tomorrow?"

"Not really. I'll put the pasta salad together in the morning, and aside from that, we're having hamburgers for our meal, so we can get that ready after breakfast sometime," Susan said.

"In that case, I think I'll turn in too," Mrs. Abernathy said.

"Do you want to use the elevator?" Susan offered.

"No thanks. The stairs will do. Good night."

"Good night."

c

Susan was walking around the house turning off lights when Greg reappeared in the library.

"Are you going to bed?" he asked in surprise.

"Not yet. It still feels early to me," Susan said.

"It isn't ... but I know what you mean. I could use some time to unwind myself before we turn in," Greg said.

Susan nodded. "I thought I might read for a while ..."

"Or?" Greg queried, seeing the question in her expression and hearing the hesitation to speak her mind in her tone.

"Or ... we could talk," Susan said.

"Not necessarily the best way I can think of to unwind, but you are right. That is something we need to do," Greg said. "Would you like to do that here or in our bedroom?"

"Here," Susan said.

"Why here?"

"Because the box is here," Susan told him and she went to pick it up from the shelf, carrying it over to the little desk where she proceeded to take things out of it.

"Do we need to talk about the box?" Greg asked looking confused.

"Maybe. Bobby didn't recognize it," Susan said.

"Does that surprise you?" Greg wondered.

"Frankly, yes. It seems like every time we meet someone lately who has interacted in some way with one or more of our past lives, they also have some sort of a reaction to the box. Bobby didn't," Susan said.

"Probably because to my knowledge, he has never encountered it," Greg said. "At least not as part of his current life. Remember, this box was lost here in this cave in 1884, a full thirty years before Bobby was born. It's been here ever since. Which means, he never saw it, Susan."

Susan nodded as she considered the wooden container in her hands. Again she heard a soft 'thunk' from somewhere inside the seemingly empty box when she turned it over.

"What are you looking at?" Greg asked.

"These smudges Zack pointed out a few nights ago," Susan said.

"What about them?" Greg said.

"Do they look like the marks from burned fingers or toes to you?" Susan asked.

"They could be, but it really isn't all that clear. They could have been caused by something else too," Greg said.

"Yes. That's what I originally thought the first time I saw them ... but Zack is absolutely certain he knows what they are from. I don't know how he could, even if he is right. How could a newborn retain a memory of something like that?" Susan questioned.

"It is difficult to be certain ... but if it serves some purpose for Zack relative to his faith, the Lord is capable of allowing him to remember it. We know that is true," Greg said.

Susan nodded. "Yes. So Zack ... surprisingly ... remembers the box. And Bobby, who I expected to remember it, doesn't."

"Why did you expect him to?" Greg asked.

Susan shrugged. "It just seems like anyone we encounter who has a connection to this past life thing does. Maybe not from his current life, but that doesn't eliminate the possibility that Bobby also has a past life where he did encounter it."

Greg arched a brow. "As far as I know, Bobby doesn't remember any past lives, Susan."

"Yes, I know he generally says that, but I'm not so sure, Greg."

"Why's that?" Greg wondered.

"He is drawn to the teachings of Zohar. He's been fascinated by the tales you told him of past lives when he was a boy. He's been drawn into our lives again through our knowledge of past lives and what we've learned about them since you and I met, seven years ago in this life. He also told Rosemary last February that there was a time in his life when he thought he could remember a past life, then later changed his mind ... after Ada died. I know if you ask him outright, he says he can't or doesn't remember any past lives, but I can't help wondering if that is entirely true," Susan said.

"I don't think he would lie," Greg told her doubtfully.

"That's not exactly what I meant," Susan told him. "What I'm trying to say is, even if he can't remember them, he seems to know they were there."

"How could he know if he can't actually remember?" Greg asked sounding perplexed.

Susan shrugged. "I don't know ... maybe he's forgotten the details due to age ... or because the Lord wanted him to ... I imagine he could forget the details of those memories for any number of reasons, but I still think he knows."

"Why?" Greg said in surprise.

"Why else would he be so determined to get things right this time ... if coming back has never happened to him before?"

Greg cocked his head. "Do you know, Reuben says the same sort of things about Ruth? She isn't drawn to the teachings of Zohar or necessarily even believes in them for herself, but she is drawn to men who are and who do. She also claims she doesn't remember past lives, but Reuben thinks she is simply determined to ignore it. I suppose that is possible given how traumatized she was during the early years of our marriage by my repeated dreams and nightmares which interrupted our sleep night after night."

"Maybe she fears having nightmares too?" Susan wondered.

"That could be," Greg said. "I am tempted to put Rosemary into that category also, but it is possible she simply isn't old enough to know what she believes."

"I wouldn't. She told Bobby openly, almost as soon as she met him in February that she has an interest in Zohar and has dreams with him in them, even though Rabbi Sloane once told her she was too young to study Zohar."

"Indeed. Did she say that?" Greg asked in surprise.

"Yes. Apparently they talked about it quite openly while I was with the director, trying to arrange for his trip here," Susan said.

"I wonder if he has said anything about this to Jessie," Greg mused.

"Why would he?"

"Because she obviously has memories, and only recently has she learned to filter what she says about past life memories and her dreams," Greg said. "It is a topic that interests both of them, so I thought he might have."

It was Susan's turn to cock her head. "You know, I'm beginning to wonder what Jessie's story is in all this. She's been at it nearly as long as we have. She must have her own task to complete, apart from ours. I know her life is usually entwined with ours, so I know we influence her, but is that our only role in one another's lives?"

"It's hard to say for certain, but that is a possibility," Greg said.

Susan nodded, giving in to a deep yawn.

"Do you have any theories?" Greg asked.

"No, none; I was hoping maybe you did," Susan said, "but apart from the observation we've made that there are people whose lives are tightly entwined with ours, whose goals or challenges might not be, I don't think I can add a single insightful thought to this conversation."

"No?" Greg asked.

"I don't think so. Why?" Susan asked.

"Because ... I think you just did," he said as Susan yawned again. "However I believe any further conversation about this theory should wait. We are both tired and tomorrow will be a very busy day."

"Yes, it will be," Susan agreed. "Care to join me in bed?"

"After my prayers," Greg assured her.

Susan nodded. "Too bad we have to abstain tonight. I've grown rather used to not having to worry about that any more."

"Those days will come soon enough. Don't rush them," Greg soothed.

Susan looked at him in surprise, remembering just for a moment how much older than herself his two previous wives were. He was talking about menopause she realized. Susan nodded, knowing those days were still ahead for her. Not far ahead, but she fully expected to have a few more years before having to deal with those sorts of changes too.

Greg studied her expression as Susan continued to stare at him following his comment.

"Come on," he said. "At the very least I can escort you to our bedroom to say our prayers."

"Thank you," Susan said.

She took his hand and allowed him to lead her to their room, where Greg immediately retrieved his prayer shawl and went out onto the balcony to pray.

c