FORTY-SEVEN

 "What?"

Jon's smirk faded.  It was an automatic question; he had clearly heard what she had said.  He pushed himself up onto his elbows and gave Cate a concerned look.

"I'm not going with you tonight.  To Dorothea's for dinner."  She kept her eyes on their hands, unwilling to meet his gaze as she braced for his next query. 

"Why not?"

Cate sighed quietly.  She couldn't give him an fully honest answer when she wasn't even willing to admit the real reason to herself.  But the thought of facing Dorothea and the elder Bongiovi children after last night's incident made her queasy.  She was certain Dorothea would insist on cornering her for a private act of contrition though Jon's ex-wife had done nothing wrong.  The last thing Cate wanted was a confrontation and an apology she wasn't owed.

So she settled for a half-truth.

"Jon, I'm just not up to it.  I don't really feel that great, I'm tired and kinda achy.  My body clock's still all messed up from keeping weird hours all week."  Her mouth curved apologetically.  "And I have so much shit to do, stuff I meant to take care of this week but couldn't because I had to go downrange." 

Jon snorted quietly at the tactical term.  "You're not planning to stay home and work, are you?"

The bitter edge to his voice caught Cate by surprise.  She automatically looked up, her blue eyes meeting his now-accusing stare.

"No!  Jon... I'm not going to work."  She frowned.  "I mean, I have to check in with the Ops Center today, but I swear that's not why I'm passing on dinner tonight."

Jon arched a skeptical brow.  "You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."  Cate's eyes narrowed as she felt a little stab of indignation.  "Jon, I'm tired.  Christ, you said it yourself earlier... I never sleep in this late."  She half-growled another sigh.  "Listen, I just need some downtime, okay?  I've hardly had five minutes to myself in weeks."

Jon held his tongue, considering her words.  Cate's tone told him there was little room for civil debate of this matter.  His expression turned neutral as he peered into her eyes.  Of course she was tired, that he could easily see.  But there was something else, another reason for the veil of melancholy behind her sapphire gaze.

He looked down at their hands on the sheets, lacing his fingers between hers.  When he raised his face to Cate's again his tone was gentler, but weary.

"Cate, are we back here again?"

"What do  you mean?"  Her question was guarded. 

Jon sighed, unable to contain his exasperation.  "Baby, when are you gonna believe that you are part of my family?  The biggest part.  You are the one I chose to marry, to share my life with.  You have to get over this crazy insecurity you have.  You're not an outsider."

Cate blinked, taken aback by both his words and his tone.  Her heart squeezed guiltily, part of her knowing he was right and another part affronted by his characterization of her feelings as 'crazy'."

"Jon, I know.  I believe you.  That's not why..."

"Honestly?"  He cut her off.  "Because that's not what I see, looking at your face right now."

Cate's eyes narrowed at his challenge.  She almost snapped off an automatic retort, but bit it back just in time.  She stared at Jon for a long moment before continuing, her voice tightly controlled.

"I don't know what you think you're seeing, other than exhaustion.  I'm tired.  I need a break, Jon.  From this rat-race I've been in all damned week.  From people.  And yes, even from you, just for a little while."

Jon hesitated, not quite believing his wife's assertation.  But he could see in the steely glint of her sapphire glare that her side of this discussion was closed.

Though he was certain his suspicions were accurate, Jon wisely decided to back down.  He didn't want to turn this into a fight.

He dropped his face to press a kiss against Cate's abdomen.   "Okay," he conceded gently.  "So, what are you gonna do tonight, then?"

"I don't know.  Not much.  Read, watch a movie... something.  Maybe take a bath.  Probably go to bed early."

"The kids will be disappointed."

Cate's heart squeezed.  "No they won't.  They want to spend time with their Dad."  She raised her free hand to ruffle Jon's hair.  "Baby, it's for the best that I stay home.  I wouldn't be any fun."

Jon dropped his chin, giving her a tender look.  "I'm gonna skip out early, come home and snuggle up with you."  He paused, his expression sobering.  "Unless you don't want me to..."

Cate couldn't stop a wan smile at Jon's offer.  She made her rebuff gentle.  "That would be nice, Baby, but I'm probably gonna be asleep before you even get to cake-time.  So please, stay.  Be with your kids.  Especially Stephanie -- she came home from school to see you."

Jon nodded slightly before lowering his head again, laying his cheek against Cate's midsection.  He felt her fingertips tangle in the hair at the crown of his head.  Jon sighed softly.

"Cate... You know I love you, right?"

The question surprised her.  Her eyes moistened.

"Of course I do, Baby.  And I love you."

"Things will get better.  I promise."  Jon turned his face against her abdomen, gently nuzzling over her empty womb.  He didn't have to explain further; her heart heard his loud and clear.

She swallowed hard, sure he could feel and hear her reaction.  Her reply was husky.  "I know.  But right now...."  She smiled through her threatening tears.  "I just have to get through the right now.  But I'll be fine.  We'll be fine."

His gentle squeeze of her hand nearly broke her heart.

*****

"Uuuhhhhhh...."  Jon groaned contentedly and dropped his fork onto the plate among the chocolate crumbs.  He pushed the dish away and slumped back in his chair.  "Uncle.  No mas.  Full."

Romeo giggled at his father's grunts.  "Nuh uh!  There's still cake left, Dad!"

"Good.  You and your brother can have it."  Jon waved a hand.  "Go.  Eat it all.  Hurry up, before bedtime.  Then you can have nightmares all night."

"Okay!"  Jacob jumped from his chair and grabbed his plate.  He froze in mid-dash at his mother's sharp bark. 

"Jacob! SIT!"  Dorothea gave her middle boy a no-nonsense glare as he stood motionless, not quite disobedient but not fully following her order.  "First of all, that's not how you leave the table.  Second of all, you already had a giant piece of cake.  Plus the frosting you stole off your brother's piece.  If you think you're having seconds you're more delusional than your father."

"Hey!" Romeo protested, realizing what his mother had revealed.  He petulantly kicked Jacob's empty chair.  "Stupid-Head!"

"Shut up, Fart-Face," Jacob countered, sticking out his tongue at his younger sibling.

"Dad!"

Dorothea turned her head to arch a brow at Jon.  "See what you started?"

Jon chortled quietly, then tried to give his boys a fatherly-stern glare.  The effect was lost when he was unable to hide his smirk. 

"Romeo, we don't call people Stupid."  Jon shook his finger half-heartedly.

"I didn't. I called him 'Stupid-Head'!"  Romeo stuck out his lip and glowered at his brother.

"Well, that ain't nice either.  And you..."  Jon turned his point toward Jacob.  He had to bite his tongue to keep from snickering at the boy's expression.  "Don't call your brother 'Fart-Face'."

"He started it!  You heard him!  He called me Stupid-Head!"

"Yeah, well... you deserved it.  Frosting Thief."  Jon couldn't hold his smile any longer.  He gave Romeo a wink.  "Now cut it out, both-a-yas.  Go brush your teeth and put on your PJs."

"It's not bedtime yet!"  Jacob's protest was half-whined. 

"So?  You can't watch TV in your pajamas?  You do all Saturday morning."  Jon curled his lip, accentuating his argument with a comical sneer.  He pointed to the hallway that led to the bedrooms.  "Now GO!" 

"But you said we could have more cake!"  It was Romeo's turn to whine.

"Changed my mind.  I'm gonna eat it all by myself."  Jon shook his finger at the boy.  "And if you don't get your butt outta that chair and down that hallway right now, I'm gonna make you watch."

Romeo giggled as he called his father's bluff.  "Okay.  I'll watch."

Jon leaned forward in his chair, bracing his hands on the table.  "One... You better get goin', you little weasel!  TWO...."  Jon slid back his chair, ready to spring.  "Two and a HALF..."

Romeo leaped out of his chair and scampered after his brother, who was already shuffling toward the hallway.  He giggled gleefully as he made it a point to elbow Jacob as he dashed past.

"OW!  DAD!" 

Jon rolled his eyes at Jake's petulant whine.  "Oh, he didn't hurt you.  Don't be such a pu.... ooouty Baby."   Jon caught himself just in time.  "Just... just go get ready for bed.  Then you can watch a movie or somethin'."  When Jacob stopped and gave him a stony look, Jon waved his hand dismissively.  "Come on, hurry up."

Jon waited until he saw the boy turn and resume his trudge down the hallway, then slouched back in his chair.  He turned his head to see Dorothea's stern expression.  He gave her a sheepish grin and an apologetic shrug. 

"Whoops.  Almost slipped."

She couldn't help herself.  A quiet chortle slipped from Dorothea's lips and her mouth curved.  "Jesus, Jon.   You can't call your ten-year-old a 'Pussy'."

Jesse snorted.  "Why not?  He was being one."  He downed the remainder of his glass of milk in a large gulp.

"Nobody asked you."  Dorothea's immediate scold of her eldest son was mild, delivered with a smile.  She sighed and shook her head, giving her eyes a skyward roll.  "Boys.  Why did we have so many of 'em, again?"

Jon grinned.  " 'Cause you kept wanting to try for another girl."  He turned his head to give Stephanie a wink, then reached for his daughter's hand.  "I guess for every Princess we get three Toads, huh?"

Stephanie giggled and squeezed her father's hand.  "Thanks, Daddy.  At least I think..."  She made a silly face, then nodded toward Jon's dessert plate.  "So you liked the cake?"

"Yeah!  It was delicious.  You made that from scratch?"

"Uh huh.  Frosting too."  Stephanie nodded proudly, her blonde curls bobbing.

"Damn.  Where'd you learn to cook like that?  Not from your mother."  Jon gave Dorothea a sideways wink, softening the barb.

Stephanie giggled.  "Morgan worked at Sprinkles one summer.  When we went to her sister's for the weekend she taught me a few things."

"Well you better hang on to her as a roommate, then.  She's got skills that will come in handy."  Jon chuckled.  "Tell her thanks from me, too."  He pulled his daughter's hand to his lips for a quick smooch, then sighed.  "So, you headed back up tomorrow?"

"Uh huh.  Probably right after lunch.  I have a test Monday."

"Shit.  I was hoping you'd have a little more time to spend with your Old Man."

Stephanie gave her father an apologetic smile.  "Sorry, Daddy."

"I know, I know.  S'Okay."  Jon sighed regretfully, then returned her smile.  "But you're still planning to spend Spring Break with us, right?"

Stephanie's smile faltered as she glanced at Dorothea, then back to Jon.  "Umm... yeah, I think so.  I mean, I want to.  But I may have a chance to do a trip to Costa Rica for my biology class."

"Oh?"  Jon couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice.  "What exactly would you do in Costa Rica?"

"Oh, you know, study the rain forests.  Look at plants and animals and stuff."  Stephanie shrugged, lowering her chin and softening her smile.  "It would be for extra credit."

"You have straight A's, don'tcha?  What do you need extra credit for?"

"I don't. But... well, some of my friends will probably go.  And it's not just study, the group is going to do some volunteer work too.  Repair some houses in a village."  Stephanie's voice turned hopeful, just short of wheedling.  "It would be a good experience, Daddy."

Jon sighed.  He could tell his daughter really wanted to go off with her friends rather than spend the break with her family.  While he couldn't fault her for that, he felt a little pang of jealousy in his heart.

"Okay, Princess.  Go.  Have a great time, learn something, do good for others."  He smiled and gave Stephanie's hand another squeeze.  "But if you change your mind..."

"I know, Daddy.  I can still come with you and Cate to St Barth."

"Yep.  You're always welcome.  And it's a short flight from Costa Rica.  Maybe you could do both?"

Stephanie shook her head slightly, still smiling.  "I don't think so, Daddy.  I'm pretty sure we have to travel as a group."

"Okay."

"You're not mad?"

"Of course not."  Jon shrugged even though another pang of sadness squeezed his heart.  "I'm proud of you, that you want to further your education during your week off.  You can go lay on the beach any ol' time."

Stephanie leaned over to press a kiss against her father's stubbly cheek.  "Thank you Daddy.  You're the best."

Jon grinned wearily.  "I know."

Jesse snorted again as he shoveled another forkful of cake into his mouth.  "Thank you Daddy, you're the BEST!" he mimicked sarcastically.  His lip curled into a little sneer as he chewed.

Stephanie swiveled her head to shoot a scowl at her brother.  "Shut up, you Jerkwad."

Jesse snorted again.  "Shut up, you Jerkwad!" he imitated in a nasally falsetto voice.

Stephanie turned her body toward her brother, punching him in the arm.  The impact of her fist against his heavily muscled arm made a meaty smack.  "Shut UP!"

"Shut UH-UHP!"  Jesse grinned as he repeated his mimcry, drawing the last word out into two syllables.  He ignored his sister's second punch as he dropped his fork onto his dessert plate.  "Yeah, I betcha I know why you don't wanna spend Spring Break with Dad and Cate."

He swiped a finger across the plate's rim, smearing it with chocolate icing.  He turned to give Stephanie a smug grin before popping his finger into his mouth.  He purposely moved his finger rapidly in and out of his pursed lips in a dirty taunt meant for his sister.

"Jesse." Dorothea warned sternly.

Jesse sucked the frosting from his finger and pulled it from his lips with a loud smacking pop.  "You're such a liar.  You just wanna go to Costa Rica so you can party and hang out on the beach with your friends."  His eyes narrowed as he smirked evilly.  "Is Brendan suddenly studying Costa Rican rain forests too?"

"NO."  Stephanie sneered back at her brother, then rolled her eyes.  "God, you're such a Dick."

"Yeah, and you're the Princess."

"All RIGHT."  Dorothea snapped before Jon could react.  "Enough!"  She turned her brown-eyed gaze to her daughter.  "Steph, if you want to go to Costa Rica instead of to St Barth with your Dad and the boys for Spring Break, that's your prerogative.  But I hope you're telling the truth about this trip."

"Mom, I am!  Remember, I showed you the flyer at the start of term?"  Stephanie's blue eyes widened with her protest.

"Yes, but just because the trip is legitimate doesn't mean your motivation is pure."  Dorothea's voice was calm, subtly warning her eldest child that she wasn't as easily fooled as Jon. "But that's between you and your father.  And you still have a few weeks to work it out, so I suggest you drop it for tonight.  It's your Dad's birthday.  Let him enjoy it."

Jesse chuckled triumphantly.

"And as for you..."  Dorothea's attention swung to her son.  "It's none of your business.  So shut up and butt out."

Jesse leaned back in his chair, stretching out his long legs under the table as he slouched.  "Yeah, okay.   Whatever."

Stephanie couldn't resist.  "Yeah, Smart Ass.  It's not like you're going with Daddy and Cate, so why the hell do you care what I do?"

Jesse shrugged and gave his sister a bored look.  "I don't really give a shit what you do.  And at least I'm gonna be working where I'm going."

"Oh yeah.  I'm sure you'll be busting your ass at lacrosse camp.  Especially at night in the dorms."  Stephanie spat the accusation and rolled her eyes.

"Alright, alright, alright...."  Jon finally found his voice.  He waved his hands, signaling an end to his children's bickering.  "Drop it, already.  Steph, it's fine.  Go to Costa Rica.  And you..."  Jon picked up his crumpled napkin and tossed it at his son.  "You worry about yourself and what you're doing.  Your Sister already got into her first-choice college.  You ain't there yet."

"Pffft."  Jesse shrugged again.  "Yeah, Dad.   I got it.  But you're the one who's gonna get stuck on vacation with the Chuckleheads all by yourself."  He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, in the direction of the hallway where his younger brothers had disappeared.

Jon grinned in spite of himself.  "What, you think Cate and I can't handle two little kids?  Puh-lease.  We've done it before just fine, thank you very much."  He arched a brow at Jesse, giving him a mild stink-eye.  "You just wanna stir up shit with your Sister and you know it."

Jesse shrugged but remained silent.  The corner of his mouth curved into a guilty smirk.

"Stephanie,"  Dorothea broke in, intent on changing the subject.  "Which dress did you want to borrow for that Alumni Auction?"

"The gray one.  You know, the one you wear with that sapphire necklace?"  Stephanie ignored her brother, turning her attention to more important matters.

"The backless one with the beaded halter bodice?"

"Yeah.  Do you mind?"

Jon frowned, visualizing the dress Stephanie and her mother described.  Dorothea had worn it to several society events, where she had crossed paths with Jon and Cate.  It was a stunning, elegant, sexy dress... and one that made his frown deepen.  He blurted out the words before he could stop himself.

"Whoa.  That's a little low-cut, don'tcha think?  Especially for an Alumni thing?"

Both Dorothea and Stephanie turned their eyes to Jon.  He shrank under their twin narrowed gazes.

"Jon, think carefully.  Do you really want to get involved in this discussion?"  Dorothea's warning was again menacingly calm.

"Uh..." Jon smiled sheepishly.  "I guess not."  He shot a look at Jesse, silently pleading for support.  He got only a smirk in return.

Dorothea returned her attention to Stephanie.  "After we clean up these dishes you can go try it on.  I'm not sure it will fit you quite right.  But if it doesn't we'll find something that works."

Jon recognized his cue.  This may be his birthday celebration, but here he was no celebrity.  He sat forward in his chair, preparing to rise.  "I got the dishes.  You two go ahead."  He smiled at Stephanie and tipped his head in the direction of the bedrooms.  "Go raid your Mama's closet before she changes her mind."

Dorothea gave Jon a skeptical look.  "Don't be silly.  It's your birthday."  She reached for Jon's dessert plate.

"Nuh uh."  Jon gently smacked her hand away from the dish.  "You cooked.  I can clean up."

"Jon, you know I ordered in."

"Well then, you opened all the containers."  Jon stood, nudging his chair backward with his legs.  "Go on.  Mister Bigmouth here and I got this covered."  He gave Jesse a pointed look.

Jesse sighed, but reached for his plate.  "Yeah, Mom.  Dad and I got it."

"Well, okay."  Dorothea relented with a tight-lipped smile, appeased by Jesse's agreement.  "There shouldn't be much.  Just load up the dishwasher and leave the rest for later."

Jon gave his ex-wife a grin.  "If there's one thing I know how to do, it's wash dishes.  I'm not leaving them for you to do later.  Now go.  Find something nice and conservative for our daughter to wear around all those young, rich recent Hamilton grads."

"Ha ha, Daddy," Stephanie replied good-naturedly as she also stood from her seat.

"Maybe something with long sleeves and a  nice high collar," Jon continued, addressing her directly.  "I think your mother has a black dress she wore to a funeral in 1996..."

"I got rid of that thing years ago."  Dorothea chuckled as she slipped past Jon.  She paused to give his arm a squeeze.  "Thanks for clearing the table."

"You got it."

Jon waited until his ex-wife and daughter strolled from the dining room, then he began to carefully stack dessert plates.  Following his lead, Jesse rose and moved around the table, collecting empty glasses and utensils.

It took two trips each for the men to clear the table and carry the dishes into the kitchen, but they worked quickly.  While Jesse loaded as many dishes as possible into the dishwasher Jon filled the sink with soapy water.  He immersed several goblets into the warm water, then began to wipe them clean.  A minute later Jesse stepped up to the sink beside his father, waiting to rinse and dry.

"So, what was all that about?"  Jon asked calmly as he handed a soapy, freshly-scrubbed glass to his son.

"What was what about?"

"Earlier.  With your sister."

"Eh."  Jesse shrugged, rinsing the goblet before wiping it with a dishtowel.  "Nothin'."

"Then why were you busting her chops about going to Costa Rica?"  Jon looked sideways at his son.

"Dunno.  She was just getting on my nerves."

Jon chuckled.  It was far from the first time he had witnessed a spat between his two eldest children, but in recent years their disagreements had been rare.  If anything, as they matured Jesse and Stephanie had grown closer.

"Any reason in particular she was getting on your nerves?"

"Not really.  Other than she was a bitch to me earlier today."  Jesse snorted.  "She's probably on the rag."

Jon winced involuntarily.  "Gee, that's nice.  You didn't say that to her, did ya?"

"Yeah.  Why?"

Jon sighed, but couldn't supress a smirk.  "Because, Bonehead.  Women don't like to be reminded it's their time of the month.  Believe me, they know.  You keep that shit to yourself, or you suffer the consequences."

Again Jon's nose wrinkled at the thought of his daughter having a menstrual cycle.  Of course he knew she was a grown woman, but some things he'd rather not consider.

"Whatever."  Jesse set the dried glass aside and accepted another freshly-washed one from his father.   

Jon paused with his hands in the water, turning his head to regard his son.  His lips pursed gently with concern.

"Jess, you sure everything's okay?  With you and Steph?"

The question surprised Jesse.  He turned to look at his father, his blue eyes a little wider.  "Yeah, Dad.  Everything's fine. I guess... well, I guess we just kinda got on each other's nerves this weekend."  He shrugged again.  "No big deal."

"So you bugged her too?"

"Guess so."

Not quite satisfied with Jesse's explanation, Jon looked back down to the sink.  He slid a few more dirty plates into the water and began to wash.  Maybe if he changed the subject he'd get Jesse to loosen up and tell him what his sister had done to annoy him, and vice-versa.

"So, did you have fun at the party last night?"

"Yeah, it was okay."

"Just okay?"  Jon smiled at his mild characterization. "I thought it was pretty cool.  Your Mom and Cate did a great job putting it together."

Jesse chuckled quietly.  "Okay, yeah, it was pretty fun.  And I could see you were having fun.  We all could."

Jon echoed his son's chuckle.  "Whaddya talkin' about?"  His question was sarcastic, and far from innocent.

"You got a little lit, Dad."  Jesse grinned and set the dry glass carefully on the counter.  "Were you hung over this morning?"

"A little."  Jon shrugged through his smile.  "It wasn't a fun five miles this morning, I'll tell ya that much."  He washed another plate and set it carefully in the other half of the sink's divided basin. "So, I didn't do something stupid to embarrass you did I?  Start showing pictures of you as a bare-assed naked baby to everybody, or something?"

"Naw.  You were a jolly drunk."  Jesse shook his head.  "Didn't embarrass me at all.  You were too busy hugging everybody within reach, telling them what great old friends they were."

Jon laughed aloud at Jesse's observation.  He did recall sharing more than a few man-hugs throughout the evening.

"So I was a sentimental old sap, huh?"

"Yeah, kinda.  It was pretty funny, considering most of the people there were older than you."  Jesse accepted another clean plate from Jon. 

"Well that doesn't sound too bad.  I didn't embarrass myself, then.  At least not publicly."  Jon slid another stack of plates into the soapy water, smiling at the memory of his celebratory evening.

"Yeah, guess not."  Jesse watched his hands as he boredly rubbed the dishtowel in a circular motion over the plate.  "So, Cate's sick?"

Jon glanced sideways, surprised by Jesse's sudden change of topic.  "Not exactly sick - sick.  Just under the weather."

"She's... it's not stuff related to you guys... you know.  Trying for a baby.  Is it?"

Jon's smile gentled.   Of all his kids, Jesse seemed to be the one with the softest spot for his Stepmother.  "Nah, nothing like that.  She's just really run down.  She was out of town all week, hardly got any sleep.  She just didn't feel up to another night out.  Said she wanted to take a bath and go to bed early."

"Oh. "  Jesse set the dry plate aside and picked a rinsed one from out of the sink.  He shrugged. "I guess I can see why she wouldn't want to come over here tonight.  You know, after what happened."

Jon frowned.  He stopped washing the dishes and turned his head toward his son.  "What do you mean?"

"You know, at the party.  Last night."

"No, I don't know.  What are you talking about?"   Jon's frown deepened as his mind flashed back to the party.  He and Cate had spent most of the evening apart, socializing. Had she had words with one of the guests?

Jesse gave his father a puzzled look.  "Dad, you were there.  What you said, when you were giving your little birthday speech.  About Mom."  He set the dry plate on top of its mate and reached for another.

Jon turned his body to more fully face his son, careful to keep his wet hands over the sink.  "Jesse, I have no idea what you're talking about.  When I gave my birthday speech?"

Jesse rolled his eyes.  "Yeah, Dad.  You called Mom up on stage with you?  Remember?  And made a big deal about her planning the party for you, how she's known you forever, gave you four kids, yadda yadda yadda...?"  He made a circling motion with his dishtowel-wielding hand.

"Yeah, and?  What was wrong with that?  I wanted to be sure everybody knew how much I appreciated what Dorothea did for me.  Cate told me she was the one who did most of the work to make that party happen."

"Well, it was kinda messed up, what you said."  Jesse shrugged again and dropped his eyes to his plate.  He fidgeted uncomfortably as he realized his father wasn't being coy.  He obviously didn't realize his mistake of the previous evening. 

"What did I say that was so 'messed up'?"  Jon raised his soapy hands from the water to feign quotations as he repeated Jesse's phrase. 

Jesse set the plate down and turned to face his father.  He sighed, looking Jon straight in the eye.  "Dad, you called Mom your wife.  Like you were still married.  Up there on stage, right in front of everybody."

Jon stared back at Jesse, momentarily stunned.  His lips parted in a silent gasp as his brain raced back over the evening, trying to replay the moment in his mind.  Unable to recall, he slowly shook his head.

"No.... No.  I didn't say that.  I remember calling Dorothea up on stage and telling everybody how she's my oldest friend, and she's a been great wife and mother...  but I didn't say she's still my wife."  Jon shook his head more firmly, confident in his memory.  Jesse had obviously misunderstood.

Jesse nodded slowly.  "Yeah, Dad.  You did.  When you did the toast.  You had everybody raise their glasses, and you said 'To my Wife, Dorothea'." When he saw his father's blue eyes widen with shock Jesse dropped his gaze.  He turned back to the sink, placing the plate on the stack.  "And everybody heard it, Dad.  It was pretty awkward."

Jon's gut tightened.  His mind flashed again to the moment.  He recalled holding Dorothea's hand, raising his wine glass, facing the crowd.  He remembered how he felt.... happy, grateful, lucky, loved.... like he was King of the World.

But he couldn't remember the words.

Not that it mattered.

Jon's stomach twisted again as he realized now what he had seen earlier in Cate's sapphire gaze, the poorly-masked sadness behind her weary smile.  She wasn't just tired.  She wasn't just disappointed that they had made no progress in their quest for parenthood.  His shoulders slumped.

"What... what did Cate do?"  Jon's question was quiet, his mouth suddenly dry.  He ran his tongue over his lips and swallowed hard.

Jesse gave his dad a sympathetic look, then shrugged again.  "Nothing, really.  She looked surprised, but she didn't say anything.  She just sat there and watched."

"Did you say anything to her?"

"No.  But when she got up and went to the ladies' room Steph followed her."

Jon turned back to the sink, dropping his hands again into the water.  He watched bubbles swirl around his wrists, the movement reminding him of the way Cate's emotions seemed to swirl in her deep blue eyes.

"Was... was she okay?"

Jesse sighed and reached for another rinsed plate.  "Yeah, I guess so.  When Steph came back she said Cate was okay, she wasn't crying or anything."

"Did you talk to Cate?"

Jesse shook his head.  "Not about that.  About school.  Later on, after you were singing with Johnny and Stevie.  And she seemed fine.  Kinda... I dunno... quiet.  But not upset or anything."  He gave a half-smirk.  "But you know how she is around Nana, too.  She doesn't say much."

Jon rolled his eyes.  He had forgotten Cate was seated at the table with his parents.  "Oh, Jesus.... Nana didn't say anything to Cate, did she?" 

"Naw.  I'm not even sure she knew what was going on."  Jesse's smirk widened.  "She had a couple glasses of wine in her too."

"Well thank God for that."  Jon let out a weary sigh.  He leaned forward, letting the counter help support his weight.  "Shit."

"You could say that."  Jesse's agreement was smugly quiet. 

Jon turned his head to fix his son with a sad gaze.  "Guess I was kinda a prick last night, huh?"

Jesse chortled softly.  "Not really.  Everybody fucks up, Dad.  Though you did it pretty good this time."

"Ya think?"  Jon pulled a hand from the dishwater and shook it briskly, showering his midsection with droplets of water.  He raised the hand to pull it through his hair as he let out another heavy sigh.

"Cate will forgive you, Dad.  I'm sure it's not the first time you've done something stupid.  And she loves you anyway."

"Yeah, but this is pretty fuckin' big."  Jon winced.  "And I'm so fucking stupid I didn't even realize I did it."

"So tell her you're sorry.  Send her flowers, write her a song."  Jesse set the clean plate on the growing stack.  "She'll get over it."

"Why didn't your mother say something to me?"  Jon gave Jesse a pointed look.  "She was standing right there, for fuck's sake!  Or your sister, if she was so worried that she followed Cate to the bathroom?"

"I don't know!"  Jesse's reply was quick and defensive.  "Go ask them!  Jesus, Dad... it's not a fucking conspiracy.  I thought you already knew about it.  You were there."

Jon raised his hands in surrender, nodding contritely.  "Okay, okay.  You're right.  Sorry."  He gave his son an apologetic half-grimace, half-smile.  "But thanks for telling me now."

"So Cate didn't say anything to you either?"

"No. But that's not exactly a surprise."  Jon snorted ironically.

"Well, then... Maybe it's not a big deal to her.  I mean..."  Jesse chuckled.  "It was pretty obvious you were half-drunk, Dad."

Jon shook his head slowly.  "No, it's a big deal.  She just won't admit it."

Jesse's smirk faded as his father's serious tone.  "Dad... are things okay with you and Cate?"

Jon hesitated before answering.  The brief silence spoke volumes.

"Yeah, Jess.  We're okay."  He turned his head and gave his son a tired smile.  "Being married is hard work sometimes.  But it's worth it."

"Like now?  When you gotta crawl home and eat shit?"  Jesse gave his Dad a sympathetic half-smile.

Jon chuckled, grateful for his son's attempt at gentle humor.  "Yeah, like now."  He sighed.  "And apparently I deserve every bit of shit-eating I'm about to do."

"Yeah, well.  Cate loves you."

"Thank God for that."  Jon sighed and dropped his hands again into the now-tepid dishwater.  "And I guess I owe your Mom an apology too.  For embarrassing her in front of everybody."

Jesse shrugged.  "It was kinda weird, Dad.  But I don't think she's mad."

"She's not.  Believe me, if your mother was pissed at me I would know."  Jon chuckled wanly.  "And she didn't say anything to Cate?"

"Dunno.  Don't think so.  Maybe that's why Cate didn't want to come over here tonight, so she didn't have to talk to Mom."  Jesse gave an exaggerated sigh and shook his head sagely.  "Jesus.  Women."

Jon arched a brow and gave his son a wry smirk.  "Oh, you don't even know the half of it yet.  Just you wait."

"Yeah, yeah..."  Jesse chortled and stacked another dish on the pile.  He slung the damp dishtowel across his broad shoulder, then stepped closer to his father's post.  "Here.  I'll finish washing."

"Nah, I got it."

Jesse shook his head.  "You go text Cate.  Or call her.  I can tell you want to."

"Jess, this isn't the kind of thing you apologize for by text or phone."

"I know." Jesse rolled his eyes.  "Just call her and tell her you love her or whatever."  He bumped his shoulder against his father's.  "Now get outta the way so I can wash these."

Jon  chuckled.  "You must be worried, if you're offering to wash dishes so I can do damage control."

"Somebody's gotta have your back."

Jon smiled, then stepped aside.  He tugged the dishtowel from Jesse's shoulder and wiped his hands, then circled his arm around the young man's shoulders for a hug.  "Thanks, Jess."

"Welcome, Dad.  Now call Cate.  And don't fuck it up more."

*****

As he pushed open the door Jon could hear the conversation. It was between a man and a woman, something about things that might have been.  The flicker of artificial light against the foyer walls told him the voices were coming from the television.

He dropped his keys on the table, hung his scarf and coat in the closet, and toed off his boots before padding quietly around the corner and into the living room.  Above the darkened fireplace the flatscreen TV glowed with a bleak image of a barren, windswept cliff.  Jon hardly noticed.

His eyes were on the still, mink-blanketed figure reclined on one of the twin couches.  In the ambient light from the television Cate's hair glowed dark red against the chocolate leather, her skin alabaster-white against a dark blue pillow.  She was peaceful in sleep, so beautiful that Jon almost didn't dare to waken her.

But he had to.

Quietly he moved to her side, then dropped to his knees.  His eyes moistened with regret as he looked down up on Cate's lovely face.  She deserved so much more than a simple apology for his stupidity.

Jon raised a hand to her face.  Gently he stroked a finger over her cheekbone, his eyes on the perfect half-moons of dark lashes.  He waited until they fluttered with recognition of his touch.

"Hey."

Cate's lashes parted to reveal cloudy deep blue irises and wide dark pupils.  She blinked sleepily, her mouth curving slightly to form the single whispered word.

"Hey."

"You didn't answer my text."

"Mmmm... sorry."  Cate swallowed, her eyes slipping closed while her brain formulated a response.  "Phone must be in kitchen."

"Oh."

"And I was sleeping."

Jon's lips curved into a tender smile.  "S'Okay."

"What time is it?"

"Almost eleven."

"Mmm."

"Baby..."

"Hmm?"

"Look at me."  Jon gently brushed her cheek again, then waited for Cate's eyes to open.  He watched the swirling midnight pools until he saw them focus.  Her little frown told him she read his expression.

"Baby, I'm so... so sorry."  Jon's voice cracked before he even got the sentiment out.

Her heart clenched at the unexpected apology, delivered in a husky, pained croon.  Cate's eyes widened slightly.  She couldn't stop an icy finger of fear from creeping through her chest.  

"Wh... why?" 

Jon lay his palm against Cate's cheek.  "For hurting you." His azure eyes shone in the dim light, moistened with remorse.  "Last night.  At the party."

Cate blinked, at first uncomprehending.  "What?"  Then her lip trembled as she realized what he meant.  

"What I did.  What I said, about Dorothea."  Jon swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.  "Baby, I didn't mean it.  Hell, I didn't even realize I said it."

A wave of shame washed over Cate as she saw the pain in Jon's beautiful face.  Her eyes glittered as tears began to well.  "I know.  It's okay, Jon.  I... It's fine."

"No, it's not fine."  Jon's hand moved from Cate's cheek to her hair.  He gently stroked back a long, thick strand, tucking it behind her ear.  "Cate... you are my wife.  And I hurt you.  I... I humiliated you, in front of our friends and our family.  It's not okay."  He blinked as a tear squeezed from the corner of his eye, nesting in the crinkled lines there.

"Jon.. I..."  Cate took a breath, trying to gather her thoughts.  He heart squeezed at Jon's obvious sincerity even as her stomach clenched with the raw memory of her embarrassment.  "Who told you?"

"Jesse."

Cate's lips parted in a soft gasp.  That wasn't at all the answer she expected.  "Not... not Dorothea?"

"No.  But when I confronted her she told me everything, the whole deal."  The tear slipped down Jon's cheek, followed by another.

"Oh."

"Cate..." Jon gave her a long, pained look.  "Why didn't you tell me?  If not last night, then this morning?"

Cate immediately dropped her gaze with her fib.  "It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does.  It matters."  Jon hooked his finger under her chin, gently forcing Cate to raise her eyes back to meet his.  "I hurt you."

Her lip quivered slightly as her blue eyes filled with tears.  Her reply was a barely audible whisper.  "Yes."

"I didn't mean to."

"I know."

"And I'm so, so sorry."  Jon's voice cracked again.  "Baby... can you... forgive me?"

His emotion broke her. 

Tears streamed down Cate's cheek. "Yes.  Of course."  She reached for him, her hand slipping from under the edge of the mink blanket to rest on his arm.  He reached to close his hand around hers.

Jon gazed  soulfully at her, his lips pressed tightly together to contain his emotion.  Another glistening tear slid down his cheek.  They were silent for a long moment, their hands and hearts joined in consolation.  Finally Jon spoke, in a whisper.

"We... we have to talk, Cate.  About us, where we're going.  About the Baby.  About you.  And me."

She nodded against the pillow, her answer a sad admission.  "I know."

"But not tonight."  He stroked her cheek again, giving her a tender smile. 

"No."  Cate agreed.  "Not... not tonight."  She swallowed hard.  "Jonny... tonight...Tonight I just need you to be... be my husband.  To hold me, and tell me it's all gonna be alright..."  Her voice broke.

He nodded.  "Okay."  Jon pressed his palm gently against Cate's cheek, then slid his hand to her shoulder, pushing away the blanket.  "Come on."

He stood and helped her from the couch, then slipped his arms around her waist.  She raised her face to his for a long, gentle kiss.  Then they together they turned and shuffled toward the darkened passage to their bedroom.

On the abandoned television screen, a lonely red-haired woman stood at the edge of the stark cliff.  She shuddered against the howling wind as she turned her tear-streaked face toward the stormy ocean.  She closed her eyes and made the sign of the cross over her heart.

The screen went dark.