Mr. Simms slept late on the Sunday after Jessie's birthday party. He breakfasted alone in his rooms, and took extra time attending to his prayers. He'd heard his host praying out-of-doors, up on his balcony above the guest rooms the evening before, and knew their conversation from the previous evening weighed on them both.

All his life he'd struggled to know the reason why; to understand why the Lord did the things he could observe, why He allowed certain people to be tested in certain ways, or why He took them from this life when He did. Never before had he considered the idea that men weren't meant to know. But Greg Abernathy seemed as committed that idea as he was to the idea the faith should come first. As a boy, he would have accepted such a statement coming from him without question. He'd seen his grandfather as old and wise and knowledgeable about such things back then. But Greg Abernathy was a younger man than he was ... not yet sixty. Surely in his own ninety-one years he'd garnered sufficient wisdom to feel confident about such things.

Still, for a man who had lived seven lives, surely a certain amount of insight would have been accumulated if all those lives were considered together. Maxwell Tabor lived 80 years. Greg Abernathy was 58. He had no idea how long the soul he knew as his grandfather lived in any of his other previous lives; but if he assumed a minimum of 25 years each of those five lives and added them to the years he knew, that came to two, almost three centuries of life experience to draw from. Even at 91 years, three centuries was more than the years he'd lived in his current life by a significant amount.

And so Robert Simms spent the morning, pondering what it might mean.

c

"Have you seen Bobby this morning?" Susan asked when she, her parents and the children returned from church.

Stephen and his family decided to go directly home after services and so they'd left earlier that morning.

"Not yet," Greg told her. "Shall I help you with lunch?"

"Yes please. Mom and Dad need to get going as soon as they can afterwards," Susan said.

"Should I go check on Mr. Simms?" Rosemary wondered.

Greg considered her for a moment. "Probably not a bad idea, if you wouldn't mind."

"No, I don't mind. But I should probably be going after lunch too," Rosemary commented.

Greg nodded. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

It still amazed him that Rosemary could take part in as frank a conversation about past lives as they'd had the evening before and still say nothing about remembering her life as Rosalie. Based on her comments about the letters, he was almost certain she could remember it.

The young woman smiled at him and trotted down the stairs.

c

Mr. Simms opened the door to his guestroom living room in answer a rap on his door.

"Oh good morning, Rosemary. It's you," he said, looking relieved.

"Why?" she said with a smile. "Who did you think it would be?"

"I wondered if it might be Greg. I fear I might have offended him last evening with some of the comments I made," Mr. Simms said.

Rosemary cocked her head. "No, I don't think so. You simply presented an alternate point of view. Mr. Gaffney ... I mean Mr. Abernathy rarely objects to a good hearty discussion about these things, as long as those involved are honest and genuine."

"He does?" Mr. Simms asked.

"He certainly seemed to enjoy it over Thanksgiving when Reuben was here," Rosemary commented.

"Who is Reuben?" Mr. Simms asked.

"He's married to Mr. Gaffney's ex-wife," Rosemary said. She shrugged slightly. "I suppose you'd call him a family friend. I got the impression he likes talking about Zohar-related topics almost as much as Mr. Abernathy does."

"Does he now. I think Greg mentioned his ex-wife and her husband are coming for the Sabbath during Passover. I wonder if he'll be here," Mr. Simms speculated.

"Probably," Rosemary said.

"Why do you call Greg, 'Mr. Gaffney' sometimes?"

"Because that's his name. He still uses it for show business, but according to my mom, he changed his name when he married Mrs. Abernathy to help with privacy issues," Rosemary explained. "I met him before that, so I forget sometimes."

"I see. Did you just come by to visit?"

"No. I'm supposed to be checking on you. Are you alright? Mr. Abernathy was concerned because we haven't seen you yet today."

"It was good of him to send you to check on me. But I'm fine, Rosemary. I'm tired after yesterday. I don't suppose I'm used to that much excitement in a single day, but I'm fine," Mr. Simms said.

"Okay ... ah ... would you like to join the rest of the family for lunch? Or breakfast, if you haven't had any," Rosemary offered. "Mrs. Abernathy is making lunch for everyone else now."

"I had a bowl of cereal here in my room a few hours ago."

"The Christians are back from church. Mrs. Abernathy's parents are planning to leave after they eat."

She'd no sooner said that when Matt and Zack walked by, on their way to their grandparents' room.

"I suppose they're down here to help with the luggage?" Mr. Simms guessed.

"Probably," Rosemary agreed.

Mr. Simms sighed. "I suppose I should be a better guest. My mother would probably tell me I'm being rude," he said doubtfully, looking at Rosemary.

The young woman's face remained pleasant and neutral. Mr. Simms considered that. It was his grandmother's spirit he was looking at, contained within the body of this girl. He supposed the memories she had from that other time were spotty at best. Perhaps it was wisest to focus more on one's current life. He always did.

"Yes, please tell them I will be upstairs for lunch in a few minutes," he added.

"Okay. Do you need any help?"

"No thanks. I think I can manage on my own," Mr. Simms said.

He watched her leave and once again closed the door, shuffling to the bathroom to make himself presentable before going to spend time with his hosts.

c

"What did he say?" Greg asked eagerly when Rosemary returned.

"He said he's tired after Jessie's birthday party yesterday. He felt there was quite a lot of excitement to take in, all in one day," Rosemary said.

"Yes, I suppose there was," Greg agreed. "Perhaps we can make the remainder of today a more relaxing day?"

"That's probably a good idea," Rosemary said. "He should be here be here for lunch in a few minutes."

"We'll wait," Greg assured her.

And they did. Everyone visited and helped around the kitchen until Mr. Simms appeared through the bookcase door in the library and joined them there.

c

Lunch was soup and sandwiches, and very low key. The grandpas shared their aches and pains as a result of the party the day before, while the children stared at them in fascination, amazed that just walking back and forth from the house to the cottage and back could be so tiring.

"I didn't think so either, at your age," Mr. Simms assured them.

"I think it takes even us old people by surprise sometimes," Mr. Abernathy added.

"Speak for yourself," Mrs. Abernathy protested.

"I am, Mildred. Don't you worry; I would never in my wildest imagination describe you as an old man," he teased.

Mrs. Abernathy tilted her head in a momentarily stern expression in response to her husband's teasing.

Susan smiled. "Don't worry about it, Mom. We all love you, no matter how old you get."

"Thank you, Susan," Mrs. Abernathy said.

Nobody lingered over lunch long. The senior Abernathys were keen to be on their way as soon as they were finished. Rosemary stayed long enough to help with the clean-up after their meal then she left too, which left only Mr. Simms and those who lived at the Abernathy house who were still there. As it turned out, some of them left too. Matt went to see his girlfriend, and Zack went bike riding with a friend, leaving only Greg, Susan, Melody and Jessie to keep him company.

"Mama, can we go in the pool?" Jessie asked.

"It's a warm day. I think we can," Susan told her. "Would you like to join us, Bobby?"

"In the pool?" Mr. Simms asked in surprise.

"Do you swim? I've heard it's good therapy for sore muscles," Susan said.

Mr. Simms cocked his head.

"I'm sure I can find some spare swimwear for you to borrow if you'd like to join them," Greg offered. "Or you can just watch if you prefer."

"There was a time I loved to swim," Mr. Simms said.

"Then you are certainly welcome to join them," Greg said.

"Are you going in?" Mr. Simms asked.

"I may. As Susan says, it is good exercise, and I do enjoy using the spa afterwards," Greg said.

"Now the spa sounds like a very good idea. Okay, I think I'll join you ... for a little while," Mr. Simms said.

"Yea!" Jessie cheered. "I've never had a grandpa who swims before."

c

And so the entire family spent the afternoon in the pool. They all watched while Melody did her exercises and swam with her afterwards. The adults each did a few laps, but when Melody went down for her nap, Susan took the baby monitor back out to the pool and joined the men in spending some time in the spa. Jessie followed them, but contented herself with sitting on the edge with her legs dangling in the water.

"Don't you want to come in?" Mr. Simms asked.

"No," Jessie said. "It's too hot in there."

"It feels good to an old man like me," Mr. Simms told her.

"It feels good to a relatively young man too," Greg told him.

"Do you go back to work tomorrow?" Mr. Simms asked.

"Yes," Greg told him. "What about you, Susan?" Greg asked.

"I am too. Rosemary should be here, so I plan to work about six hours in the cottage tomorrow," Susan said.

"Are you working every day this week?" Mr. Simms wondered.

"No, not every day. I know Passover starts on Tuesday, and Greg's family will all be here next weekend, so I'll probably take Thursday and Friday off completely to prepare for their visit," Susan said.

"Do you know how to cook for Passover?" Mr. Simms asked.

"I'm learning," Susan told him. "Julie's shared with me some of her recipes and I got a few more from a friend of mine, so hopefully I'll be able to prepare something that's acceptable during the week. Of course, Ruth and Julie fully intend to take over for preparing supper for next Saturday, but I don't mind because they agreed to let me cook on Sunday."

"What's Sunday?" Mr. Simms asked.

"Easter. We're going to have a family picnic down by the pond," Susan said.

"Again?" Greg asked.

"I thought you enjoyed it the year we did that," Susan said.

"I did. But do you think our guests will?" Greg asked. "On Passover?"

Susan shrugged. "I don't know. I do know it's beautiful down there, and two pairs of ducks have ducklings this year. I thought it would be fun ... even if they won't help us hunt for eggs."

"Why don't you ask our guest what he thinks?" Greg suggested.

Susan eyed Mr. Simms warily.

"Mr. Simms, do you have any thoughts on how to celebrate Easter?" she asked.

"Since I've never celebrated Easter, I don't think I do," Mr. Simms told her. "Do you celebrate with her?" he asked Greg.

"I have participated in an Easter dinner or two. And I believe I have hidden eggs for their hunt, three separate years," Greg told him truthfully.

"Will you do it again?" Mr. Simms asked.

"I may, if Susan asks," Greg said.

"You can if you want. I was thinking of asking Alan this year," Susan told him.

"He might enjoy it too," Greg said. "But as for making our meal into a picnic, I believe that could be difficult. Why not serve the meal in the house and go down by the pond for the afternoon afterwards?"

Susan considered him doubtfully.

"Call Julie and ask her, if you prefer," Greg suggested.

"Okay, I will. Or better yet, I'll ask Cindy. I bet she's celebrated Easter with her grandmother before. She might have an idea," Susan said, just as she heard voices coming through the baby monitor from the house.

"That might be a very good idea," Greg said as Susan got out.

"If you'll excuse me. That sounds like Melody. It's time for me to go back in," she told the men, and she left for the house, taking Jessie with her.

Mr. Simms considered Susan thoughtfully as he watched her go.

"What are you thinking, Bobby?" Greg asked as he watched him.

"I am thinking of two things. First, who is Cindy?" he asked.

"Cindy is my daughter-in-law. Her maternal grandparents are Christian, and her mother was raised in a Christian home," Greg explained. "My understanding is she converted to Judaism before Cindy's parents married."

"I see. I suppose she might know something about Easter then," Mr. Simms remarked.

"I believe that is Susan's rationale for asking her," Greg agreed. "What is your other question?"

"I am also thinking about your soulmate. I can see Susan is that ... but why? Why would the Lord pair you ... an otherwise godly man ... with a Christian woman?" Mr. Simms asked.

Greg arched an eyebrow at the old man. "Your question is an extension of the topic we were discussing last night. The Lord made us as we are for His own purpose. I don't know what that purpose is, nor should I. But I can guess."

"Oh? What purpose can you see?" Mr. Simms asked.

"Our challenge has been to be what we are, to support one another, and to base our relationship with one another and with the Lord on faith," Greg said.

"Faith. As opposed to religion?" Mr. Simms said.

"Yes. Exactly," Greg told him.

Mr. Simms frowned. "As I told you last evening, this is not an approach I am keen on, Greg."

"I understand," Greg assured him. "I don't think my parents would be either, were they still alive. It is not an easy concept for those raised according to a strict interpretation of the Laws of Moses. I believe when you were a boy, I did advocate for a more traditional interpretation, however if I recall correctly, I also tried to convey to you the importance of faith. The laws alone are not enough. It is what is in the heart of a man that the Lord sees."

"And you are convinced that is the reason you are here? Mated as you are, to a woman who is a gentile?" Mr. Simms asked.

"I am. In every life we have lived, it has been this way. She is a gentile, but always a godly woman, while I am a Jewish man. There was something the Lord wished us to accomplish either in spite of or because of our differences. It has been through this approach we have found our best success," Greg insisted.

"And how would you know that, given you always seem destined to return?" Mr. Simms asked.

Greg studied his companion. "I doubt I can answer you in a way that you will understand. However, if you will forgive me for changing the subject, the afternoon is beginning to cool off. I think it might be time to go in," Greg suggested.

Mr. Simms looked about, gazing at the sun up in the sky. It was still well above the horizon, but his host was right. The ocean breezes were beginning to reach them, making the air outside the pool feel cool.

"I suppose it is," Mr. Simms said reluctantly.

"It will only get worse if we wait," Greg said.

"Yes, of course," Mr. Simms agreed.

With Greg's help, Mr. Simms got out of the water and wrapped himself in a towel. The two men continued to talk as Greg walked the old man to his room. He left him there to shower and dress, while he did the same upstairs.

c

Susan was on the phone when Greg emerged into the library after his shower. Melody was playing nearby in her walker, as she often was; and a fire, which Susan lit after their swim, was burning in the small fireplace, effectively eliminating the chill from the air in the room. Nearby, the preserved letters from Rosalie lay forgotten on the little desk. Greg didn't think Mr. Simms had even looked at them the previous evening, and he was just considering putting them away when he heard Susan say,

"Yes, I think that would be fine, Julie. Aside from Mr. Simms, it will only be us here ... we're only expecting the immediate family, so I'm sure we'll have room for Judy and Jeffery. I could use some help with the menu though. Cindy's volunteered to help me with Sunday," Susan told her.

They chatted a few minutes longer before Susan hung up the phone.

"Judy and Jeffery are coming next weekend for Passover?" Greg asked curiously.

"For Saturday only," Susan told him. "They don't plan to spend the night."

"They could. I expect we would have the room," Greg told her.

"They could, but it sounds like they have too much to do. Their wedding is April 17th. That's a week from Saturday," Susan told him.

"A week from this Saturday?" Greg questioned.

"Yes. Two weeks from yesterday," Susan clarified.

"I saw the invitation," Greg commented. "Are we going?"

"Would you like to?" Susan asked.

"It seems like we should. I've known Judy for a long time, and we did play a part in their decision to marry," Greg pointed out.

Susan nodded.

"Don't you want to?" Greg asked when he noticed her hesitation.

"I do want to, but our return tickets for Bobby are on the same day," Susan said. "That is also the first Saturday after the end of Passover."

"We made his travel arrangements before we received the invitation," Greg realized.

"Yes, we did," Susan said.

"We could change them," Greg suggested. "That is if Bobby doesn't mind."

Susan thought about that for a moment. "We could. I'm not sure how the Siskles would feel about that, given I had to get their permission to bring him home with me in the first place. Maybe we should talk to him about it?"

"I think that's the best plan, Susan. I don't think we should allow Bobby's visit to cause us to miss Judy's wedding," Greg told her.

"I agree, in theory. We just need to figure out the best way to bring this up to talk to him about it," Susan said. "We have time. At the moment, it's this coming Saturday I'm more concerned with."

"Did talking to Julie help?" Greg asked.

"It did. She's offered to help me with the menu for next weekend, and Cindy offered to give her input on the picnic idea. I can't tell you how much I appreciate that," Susan said.

"Julie enjoys helping during our family get-togethers, and Cindy enjoys helping where ever she can," Greg said as he followed Susan to the kitchen, carrying Melody and her walker.

Jessie was already in the family room watching cartoons, and he set Melody down in a place where she could join her.

"I know they do, but I do appreciate it," Susan insisted as she continued their conversation.

"Speaking of help, do you need help for this evening?" Greg wondered.

"Not really. I've already got the roast in the oven. I just need to make the salad to go with it," Susan said. "Matt should be home soon. He just called."

"What about Zackary? Does he need a ride?"

"Matt is going by Ian's to pick him up," Susan told him.

Greg nodded as he hovered nearby. Susan glanced at his expression as she worked in the kitchen.

"What is it, Greg? What's wrong?" Susan wondered.

"It's Bobby. He has a way of asking some very disturbing questions," Greg told her frankly.

Susan looked at him in concern. "What sorts of questions?"

"Questions about religion vs. faith, and why you and I are here, still after so many lives," Greg answered.

"And he is wondering if the reason we keep coming back is because we're married to one another," Susan guessed.

"Something like that," Greg said.

"I don't think that's true ... do you? I mean we have done that too, a time or two ... and generally those times turn out worse than when we do," Susan reminded him.

"I agree ... but how is it we know that, precisely?" Greg wondered.

Susan shrugged. "I'm not certain it is something I can verbalize exactly ... I just know."

"Do you dream about it?" Greg wondered.

Susan paused in what she was doing. "I suppose I do. It's never clear like some of our dreams are ... I come away from it understanding it is a mystery we are destined never to solve ... and I know that's the way it's supposed to be. We ... you and I ... we were meant to be together ... to do the things we've learned we must do in order to succeed."

"And you don't think the why of that equation is important?" Greg wondered.

"Is that what Bobby is asking you? Why?" Susan asked.

"Essentially," Greg told her.

Susan nodded. "Greg, you and I ... we have the answers we need, more or less. We know what it is the Lord would have us to do. Maybe at the end of our days, we will learn why, but I don't think that is important for us to know right now, do you?"

"I suppose not," Greg said.

"And I think for Bobby, the more important question would be, why is he here? That should be of more importance to him than what our particular challenge is and why the Lord decided to make that challenge what it is," Susan said.

Greg arched his brow. "Very true. Besides we do know the importance the Lord places on faith ... and that does get lost sometimes within our varying religions."

"Exactly," Susan said. "I don't know why He decided to structure our challenge as He has, but I don't have a problem with the fact that His underlying message seems to be, to emphasize faith in Him above all things."

"Yes, I agree," Greg said, looking more comfortable within himself than he did when they started this conversation.

"Has Bobby said what he thinks his purpose for being here might be?" Susan wondered.

"He says he has worked all his life to simply understand. He is so driven by that question, I can't help wondering if for him, that is what he needs to move on," Greg said.

"Each person's purpose is different," Susan reminded him. "We know that is true."

"Is it? Given what we've learned about Reuben, Anna, and Rosemary lately?"

"And Neil?" Susan added.

"And Neil," Greg repeated, "though we have yet to learn anything directly from him."

"I predict that will come," Susan told him.

"When?" Greg asked.

"When it is time. Until then, don't allow yourself to be led into doubt. From what I know of it, that is the one thing we could do at this point that might cause us to fail," Susan cautioned.

Greg looked at her with a start. "How do you know this?"

Susan briefly touched the back of her head, close the place where it's shape was slightly flattened. "I know," she said simply. "I suspect Rabbi Sloane does too. Talk to him, Greg. Let him bolster your faith if you need it. Don't listen to the words of the enemy, spreading doubt intended to cause you to lose your balance, or worse yet, question your faith."

"And you think that is what this is," Greg surmised.

"Yes and no. I don't think Mr. Simms is the adversary, if that is what you are asking. But I do think his own doubts can be used by them to influence you," Susan cautioned.

"Well, that is good to hear," Mr. Simms commented as he came hobbling down the last of the steps leading towards the kitchen, leaning on his cane. "I'd hate to think you considered me the devil, just because I'm an old, stubborn Jew."

"Did you think I think that?" Susan asked him without missing a beat.

"I thought you might, once your husband told you what I've been saying," Mr. Simms said.

"Oh?" Susan said, looking at him directly.

"I have what your husband feels is a bad habit of wanting to know why," Mr. Simms explained. "I see things here I don't understand, things that seem contrary to everything I've ever believed, and yet in your household it feels right."

"That can be confusing," Susan said sympathetically.

"Do you think I have reason to be confused?" he questioned.

"Probably. You see me, a Christian woman, married to Greg who is a Jewish man. We both practice our religions, as you've already seen. There are more things that are different than are similar between us when it comes to religion, and yet our marriage works. More than that, our individual relationships with the Lord are thriving. Our faith is strong and we are on the right path," Susan said. "I'm sure that must seem incongruous with the teachings of Moses."

"You are right, it does," Mr. Simms said.

Susan nodded. "The sage who married us, said nearly the same thing. I think he was initially confused too ... but the ways of the Lord are often not known to man. He has a purpose in bringing us together ... in joining us the way He has. Our job is not to question why He did it, but to listen to His will, to serve in any way we can, to fulfill the Lord's purpose in this life for us as best we can."

"You make it sound easy," Mr. Simms remarked.

"It isn't. We have been questioned at every turn, fallen victim to doubt repeatedly. Blind trust, without knowing the reason why, is one of the hardest things the Lord asks us to do," Susan told him.

Mr. Simms regarded her in surprise. "Really. I hardly expected to hear that from a Christian woman."

"Why?" Greg asked.

"Most Christians I know claim to have all the answers," Mr. Simms told him.

"They don't," Susan said. "It has taken some a long time to discover that, but in my opinion, none of us knows all the Lord's secrets."

"That much I am certain is true," Mr. Simms said.

"Mama, is it almost dinner time?" Jessie asked, interrupting their conversation as she came into the kitchen.

"It will be soon. Can you help me set the table?" Susan asked. "We need to be ready to eat when the boys get home."

"When will they be here?"

"As soon as Matt picks Zack up," Susan told her. "He called about fifteen minutes ago. He was on his way to pick him up at Ian's."

"Okay," Jessie agreed and she began to gather the things they needed to set the table.

Greg helped her while Mr. Simms sat on one of the kitchen bar stools and watched, thinking about the discussion he'd overheard. What was his purpose in being here? In living so long in this life without his soulmate? He'd assumed this, along while that the question of why, was the most important. But perhaps he should reconsider. Perhaps he should take this opportunity to reassess what the Lord intended by keeping him here, and he pondered that while the Abernathys went through the routine of preparing for dinner.

c

Dinner was served just about the time Susan said it would be, and Mr. Simms joined the Abernathy family for a meal of roast beef, potatoes, carrots, and gravy, along with a green salad. It was home cooking, nothing remarkable really, but it was good and it was a good break from the meals served at the home.

The family's after supper routine carried them through the evening, and before he knew it, the youngest of the children were going to bed.

"There's no school tomorrow," Jessie protested when Susan came to get her after putting Melody to bed.

"No, there isn't. But I thought you wanted to go with Eddy's family tomorrow to the zoo," Susan reminded her. "They did invite you, and we decided it would be okay for you to spend one day away over Spring Break while your Grandpa Bobby was here. Have you changed your mind?"

"No, I still want to go," Jessie assured her.

"Then it's time for bed," Susan said.

"Oh, okay. I'll go," Jessie agreed.

"Me too," Matt said unexpectedly.

"Why are you going to bed so early?" Zack wanted to know.

"Ashley and I are going hiking tomorrow. We promised each other we'd get an early start. I'm supposed to be at her house by five," Matt told him.

"By five? Where are you going to hike?" Susan asked. "It's still dark at five."

"Yeah, it is, but there are some trails near the Griffith Park Observatory we want to try. The parking there is always really crowded, so we have to go early if we want to get a good spot," Matt said. "By the time we stop for breakfast and actually get there, it should be about six or six-thirty."

"Are you working at all this week?" Susan wondered.

"Every day except tomorrow and Friday afternoon. Good night, Mom," Matt said.

"Goodnight," Susan told him.

"I think I'll turn in too," Mr. Simms remarked.

"Do you want me to walk down with you?" Susan offered.

"No, thank you. I can put myself to bed," Mr. Simms said.

"Goodnight, Bobby," Greg told him.

And that left only Zack, Greg and Susan in the family room. Greg was next, since he had to get up early for work at the studio, which meant soon Susan and Zack up alone, watching a movie.

Zack glanced at his mother out of the corner of his eye.

Susan arched a brow in response. "What is it?" she asked.

Zack shrugged. "This is just weird ... you and me up by ourselves. That almost never happens."

"No, it doesn't. But I actually do have to work tomorrow too, so as soon as this movie is over, I'm also going to bed."

"It almost is," Zack told her. "Do I need to go to bed too?"

"Soon. You're getting old enough you can probably figure out when you need to go to bed for yourself on nights that aren't school nights, so I'll leave it up to you; but my recommendation is not to stay up past midnight," Susan said.

Zackary grinned. "Thanks Mom."

Susan smiled, and a short time later, she too was in bed.

c

Mr. Simms spent most of Monday in the Abernathys' gardens while his hosts were working and the children were occupied. Rosemary joined him for part of the day, bringing Melody down to enjoy the out-of-doors, but most of the day he spent on his own. In truth, he didn't mind. Being outside was better than being inside, and when he compared this to the alternative of being in the retirement home, staring out the window at the tiny courtyard they offered as a garden, this was preferable. Here he was able to walk as he wished, rest on the various benches as he came to them, and enjoy the spring flowers that were already in bloom. The goldfish in the ponds were pleasant too, and eventually he came to the end of the garden and the path, to a place where the well-defined walkway became a trail. He stopped there, considering whether an old man like himself could manage it on his own. That's when young Zackary appeared.

"Have you seen the pond?" Zackary asked when he discovered their elderly guest contemplating the path.

"Do you mean the goldfish ponds?" he asked the boy.

"No. The real pond," Zackary said. "Mom and Greg put the goldfish ponds in, but the real pond was there before we built the house. It's really cool down there."

He pointed down the trail towards an ill-defined opening between the trees and to the space beyond.

"I haven't been down the path past here," Mr. Simms admitted. "I thought the footing on the trail might be too precarious for an old man."

"I'll help you," Zack offered.

"Are you sure you want to spend your time with me?" Mr. Simms wondered.

"Sure, why not? Mom's working, Melody's sleeping, Rosemary is reading, and everyone else is gone. Why shouldn't we hang out?" Zackary asked.

"No particular reason. Very well, if you are certain you don't mind helping me, I would like to see your pond. Your mother was saying something about having a picnic there next Sunday," Mr. Simms shared.

"Cool. That would be fun," Zack said.

Mr. Simms studied the young man. "I suppose it would be, for someone your age. Show me," he said.

"Okay," Zack said.

Mr. Simms allowed Zack to lead the way, patiently waiting for him when necessary or alternately offering him a helping hand in some of the rougher places along the trail. It wasn't long, much shorter than Mr. Simms originally supposed, but just past the line of scrubby looking oak trees, they came to a relatively untouched, surprisingly large, natural-looking pond, created by water trapped at the very rim in the lowest section of the valley where the Abernathys had their home. It was a wild looking place, completely unkempt in comparison to the gardens above, but that was part of the charm of it. Tall green grasses grew around the pond, extending past the branches of the trees to create a small meadow away from the water. There an occasional breeze played with the grass so that it wasn't quite motionless as he studied it. Directly in front of him however, he could just make out movement of another sort through the tall steams of the grasses between him and the pond.

"Quack, quack, quack," a mother duck voiced her protest at their appearance while she hurried her ducklings to the relative safety of the water and away from them.

Mr. Simms studied the duck family in amazement, but especially when a handsome mallard appeared, with his brilliant green head and the white band around his neck, quacking at the intruders in defense of his family. He and Zackary stood very still, until the duck decided they weren't a threat, and went to join his mate and their ducklings on the pond.

"It's been years since I've seen something like that," Mr. Simms said.

"Oh yeah? Do you have ducks where you live?"

"We have a duck pond as part of one of the city parks near where I live," Mr. Simms explained. "It is somewhat larger than this, with many more ducks of different varieties. They also have babies this time of year, though it's been years since I've visited. It wasn't quite such a wild place as this though."

Zackary nodded. "We also have deer here. Sometimes you can see them if you're here early enough."

"In the mornings?" Mr. Simms questioned.

"Yup. Mom thinks they sleep someplace in the afternoons," Zackary said.

"Probably," Mr. Simms agreed.

They stood watching the duck family for a while, but there was no place to sit, and so Mr. Simms tired rather easily.

"I think it might be time to go back," Mr. Simms said, much sooner than he suspected Zackary would have liked.

"Yeah okay," Zackary agreed. "Should we go back the same way or through the tunnel and the cave?"

Mr. Simms looked at him blankly. "The cave? Isn't that up by the house?"

"It is, but there is also a way into it down here. The walk is pretty easy going back that way," Zackary advised.

"Then by all means, let's go that way," Mr. Simms said.

"Okay. Follow me."

Mr. Simms did, and initially the route Zack took was even rougher than the trail going back towards the gardens, but it was extremely short. In fact, as soon as they got behind the branches of one of the closest trees, he saw the opening to a small, wooden shack. Zackary helped him up a step and led him inside. Immediately the floor leveled out. Not only that, he discovered the wooden structure wasn't a shack at all, but rather covered the mouth of what looked to him like an old mining tunnel.

"Is this safe?" Mr. Simms wondered as he studied the timbers.

"Yup. Greg had it checked before letting us use it," Zackary assured him. "The tunnel's been here a long time, but it doesn't go very far."

Mr. Simms nodded, leaning heavily on his cane. He followed Zack and soon discovered he was right. The tunnel quickly merged into a narrow passageway in what was obviously part of the cave. They took their time along the walk, up a relatively gentle slope, and Mr. Simms identified a fold of lava part way which made a serviceable bench on which to rest. Even so, didn't take long before they emerged into the main chamber of the cave. They rounded a blind corner and Mr. Simms was astonished to find they were in a place he recognized, very close to the bottom of the elevator. A moment later, they were in the house.

"That was very quick," Mr. Simms remarked as he sat thankfully down in one of the chairs in the library. "Faster than walking up through the garden."

"Yeah, it is. If you're going to the pond, it's a much better way to go," Zackary agreed.

"There you are," Susan said as she came up the half-flight of steps from the kitchen.

"Were you looking for me?" Mr. Simms asked in surprise.

"I wondered where you were. I sent Zackary to check on you, but when he didn't come back, Rosemary decided you might need help. She's down in the garden now," Susan told them.

"Sorry Mom. We went down to look at the pond and came back through the cave," Zack explained.

Susan smiled. "Well, no harm done."

"Should I go tell her?" Zack wondered.

"Probably. Did you enjoy yourselves?"

"We did," Mr. Simms said. "Though I believe we disturbed the ducks down there quite a bit. Mr. Mallard seemed quite distressed to have us so close to his family."

"Are the babies swimming now?" Susan asked Zack curiously.

"Yeah, they are. They are so funny, there's so many of them, all with their little legs going a mile a minute. And we're not even all that scary," Zack commented.

"No, but I bet the coyotes who come up the deer trail are. It's good they know to head to the water when trouble comes," Susan said.

"Probably," Zack agreed. "Do I have time to call Ian before dinner time?"

"After you find Rosemary," Susan said. "Then you should. Dinner won't be for another hour yet."

"Cool," Zack said and he trotted down the stairs in the direction of the family room, on his way towards the balcony to look for Rosemary.

"Zackary tells me you have deer which visit your pond," Mr. Simms said as he watched him leave.

"We do. They come early in the morning generally. My husband finds them inspiring," Susan shared.

"I do too," Mr. Simms said. "My grandfather told me a story once of following a deer in the fog. It led him to a road when he was lost in the woods. Another time, a doe led him to the shelter of a cave in the pouring rain."

Susan smiled. She could remember Greg telling her the very same story, and she wasn't surprised it was one Max thought fit to share with his grandson when he was a boy.

"Greg should be home before too long. Perhaps he'd be willing to tell you about the first time he saw our deer here," Susan said.

"I'll be sure to ask him," Mr. Simms said, just as a cry from the nursery announced Melody was awake.

Mr. Simms watched as Susan disappeared in the direction of the baby's bedroom, leaving him alone in the library once more. There seemed to be a lot of that with this visit to the Abernathys, and he was still considering what that might mean when Susan and Melody rejoined him.

"I'm about to start supper. Would you like to join us in the kitchen?" Susan offered.

"Or I could watch Melody for you here," Mr. Simms said.

"Are you sure you want to?" Susan asked in surprise.

"I don't mind. I'm sure Rosemary will be back soon with Zackary. Melody and I should be fine until she gets here. After all, we seem to speak the same language," Mr. Simms told her.

"You do?"

"Didn't you know? I'm good with languages. I speak fluent baby," he teased and Susan smiled.

"Thank you," Susan told him. "Just call me if she becomes too much for you."

"I will," Mr. Simms told her as Susan set Melody in her walker in the middle of the room and went to the kitchen to tend to dinner.

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