Date: Sun, 13 May 2007 03:30:14 -0700
From: Stephen Phelps <dnsphelps@mcsi.net>
Subject: Michael and Jake part 10
Disclaimer: I do not know, nor do I claim to know Jake Gyllenhaal, or any
other celebrities that may wander through these pages, and I do not know or
therefore mean to imply any knowledge of their personal lives or their
sexual preferences. This story is a work of fiction, and the character of
Michael is my own creation, and therefore, any use of him outside of this
story cannot be done without first gaining my permission. If you are under
18 years of age, or it is illegal for you to be reading this where you
live, or you are bothered by the prospect of a homo-erotic relationship
between two men, then you had better go and find something else to read on
another website.
Michael's POV
Luc was dead.....Smoke inhalation.....I guess we'll never
really know why he did the things he did.....It turned out that he had an
apartment in Manhattan, and the police found an entire wall covered with
photographs of me, and he was also the person behind the Red_Angel.com
website. He and Angelique had actually divorced after only five years
together, and they never had any children together.
There was talk of possibly pushing back the release date of
'Obsession'. Maybe even shelving the film all together. Aside from the
fact that it was a stupid idea financially, I didn't want to let everything
involved with what happened with Luc to cloud the rest of my life, and I
told Jake this, and my parents too. So, Jake went and had a talk with the
Studio Rep. and in the end it was decided to keep the planned release
time. Since Jake was one of the co-producers, he went back to L.A. to
work on editing the film.
Glenn was nice enough to give me some time off so that I could
get my head together after everything that happened. I went to see one of
the psychiatrist's on staff where my mom worked, and he was able to
recommend another doctor that had a private practice, who I went to see
once a week on Friday's.
I refused the sleeping pills, and since the nightmares had
become less frequent, I didn't really see the need for them
anyways....Besides, I really didn't like the way they made me feel.....
Now that all of the other drama in my life was over, I could
finally start to concentrate on my house and what I wanted to do with it.
I was seriously thinking of going co-op. I went to see Marshall Williams
to find out about all of the pros and cons involved. After meeting with my
lawyer, I talked things over with my parents to get their input, and in the
end, I decided to go with my original plan to divide the house up into four
units, two on the first floor, my own space on the second floor, and
another apartment up on the third floor. I let Peter and Maggie know what
my final decision was, and then got started on the renovations.
The first thing I was going to have to do was choose a
Contractor to be in charge of the whole project. Since my dad was in the
business, I asked him if he had any recommendations. One of the names he
gave me, Jason Cameron, sounded kind of familiar, and as soon as I met him,
I knew why! He was the same Jason Cameron that was on TLC's "While You
Were Out." So, I met with Jason and several others, mainly to see who I
"clicked" with the best, and ended up going with Jason, even though his
schedule with the show meant that he would be gone for several weeks at a
time. Shortly after meeting with Jason to arrange a work schedule, I was
contacted by a producer from TLC wondering if I would allow the renovations
to be filmed as part of a documentary on preserving historical homes. I
told her that I would think about it and get back to her.
Jake was waiting for me late that Friday morning after my
therapy session.
"Let's go exploring," he said, giving me his trademark lopsided
grin.
"Where?" was my dubious reply.
"The attic space above the garage....I don't think you ever
said what was up there, or if you did, I forgot, and I don't remember if
you said whether that space was emptied along with everything else."
"I don't think they went out there....I don't remember
either....Okay, so let's go explore the garage attic space," I said,
looking at him with a mischievous grin of my own, and we were on our
way....
Sunlight streamed through dusty dormer windows, casting light
and shadow over an attic crowded with items, all covered with sheets to
keep the dust at bay.
"Okay, so now what?" Jake asked as we stood surveying the
space.
"I say we open some of the windows and air the place out. I
don't know about you, but I'm almost freezing up here!" I said. "Maybe we
can open the windows and it'll warm up in here."
"I'm fine, but okay, we'll open some windows," Jake said. And
so we opened up some windows and started removing dust covered sheets. It
seemed that Jake and I had stumbled on a treasure trove of sorts. There
were wooden boxes of dishes, crystal and oil lamps, armoires and
chifforobes, dressers and chests of drawers, beds and tables, sofa's,
chairs, and settee's, and a nice collection of wicker furniture. Feather
mattresses and quilts were rolled into heaps, and rugs were rolled up and
tied with sturdy lengths of old-fashioned rope made from hemp. Bedslats
were of rope. An old trunk was open and overflowing with fabric. Jake
lifted out an old high-necked, white Victorian-styled dress. I could
picture Michelle having the time of her life with the old clothes.
The wicker was all white, and original vintage, from the looks
of it. I was going to see about finding someone to make sure it was all
okay before I used it.
"What are you thinking about?" Jake asked as he came up to
stand in front of me. "Whoa! you weren't kidding about it being cold over
here! You don't suppose it's possible that you have a ghost, do you?" he
asked, as he turned to survey the attic space.
"I don't know.....With a house this old, anything is
possible....." I replied.
Turning back to face me, he reached up a hand to cup my cheek,
and said, "Okay, so tell me, what are you thinking about?" And just like
that, I no longer felt cold.
"I really need to get together with Jason and my dad. I'm
pretty sure that I remember my dad showing me a bunch of old pictures of
this place, and that it at one time had one of those glassed in
conservatory/sunrooms. I'd like to restore it, the conservatory, that is.
I think it would make another nice gathering area for the tenants. I'm
also re-thinking turning the first floor into two units....." I said.
"Oh?" Jake questioned.
"Yeah.....I'm thinking of maybe going with four-one bedroom
studio's instead. What do you think?"
"Is there enough space?" Jake asked.
"I think so, but I'll talk to my dad and Jason first. Ugh!!"
I groaned.
"What's wrong?" Jakes asked, suddenly concerned.
"What with everything that's been going on the past couple
weeks, I completely forgot about!"
"Forgot about what?" he wanted to know.
"People magazine....They want me for their '100 Most Beautiful
People' issue again this year."
"So, call them up and set a day next week."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because today was supposed to be the day that I was supposed
to meet with them to get photo's done in order to make their deadline...."
I said.
"So, call them up, have them meet you here."
"What?!?!" I looked around the attic where we were still
standing. "I can't just call up 'People magazine' and tell them to come
over here! I'm a complete mess from looking around up here!" I exclaimed.
"Call them up and tell them to meet you here in two hours.
You'll go home, take a quick shower, and then slip into your favorite
jeans, cowboy boots, and fisherman sweater, and then you'll come back here
and get your picture taken," Jake stated calmly. "And I'll be here the
whole time."
"I hate you when you're right," I told him as I pulled out my
phone and we turned and made our way back to the disappearing stairs.
"I love you too, Red," Jake said, giving me a smile that was
full of self-satisfaction and indulgence.
Sure enough, it was two hours later, and I was at the house
once again, wearing my favorite jeans, boots, and sweater, just as Jake had
said, but he was nowhere to be found....I had just plastered on my dozenth
fake-happy smile when I heard barking coming from the front gate, and the
smile and the expression on my face went from practiced to genuine in the
blink of an eye, and I heard the camera clicking away, but I didn't
care.... My Jake was finally here....
I got up from where I was sitting on the front porch, and went
down the walkway to let him and the dogs in. He had showered and changed
also, into jeans and an oxford cloth shirt that was the same exact shade of
blue as his eyes.
And so, that was how it went....Jake was sitting on my left,
eyes looking heavenward while Atticus had wedged himself between us and was
licking the side of my face, while Boo, who I was holding in my lap, was
attacking me under the chin, and I was leaning over slightly to the right,
eyes tightly closed, and laughing hysterically, all on the front porch of
my new home.
Peter's POV
"Okay Peter, I want your honest opinion. Is it too much? Did
I go too far? I mean, well, Glenn said I could do it....." Michael
trailed off uncertainly.
I lowered my news paper, not yet looking Michael in the eye,
but rather keeping my gaze on the floor. I looked past his legs to the
chair, and the floor beneath it, where the Barber was busy sweeping up long
red hair....Quite long actually, and lots of it at that! My eyes instantly
flew up to his.
"Shit!" I muttered. "Why?"
He ran a nervous hand through his newly shortened hair. "My
shrink would say that's all just a psychological reaction to what happened
with Luc, and she'd be right. I think that by doing this I'm taking the
final steps toward taking back at least some control over my life. Does
that make any sense?" he asked.
"Yeah, actually it does," I told him as I folded up my paper
and tucked it under my arm. "Okay, let's get out of here," I said, so we
paid and left. "So, did you see it?" I asked him, referring to 'People
Magazine.'
"Mmm-hmm. My first ever centerfold," he replied, referring to
the fact that they had used one the photo's taken last week at his house.
In it, he and Jake were sitting on his front porch with the dogs, and both
dogs were getting their licks in on Michael, while Jake looked to the
heavens for supplication.
"So, how are things progressing with the renovations?"
"Well, I think I'm going to call that producer from TLC and
tell her yes. And I've also decided to do four studio's on the first
floor. Once I do that, I think things will start to move along. Oh! Did
Jake tell you? I think I might have a ghost!"
"Seriously?" I asked, looking at him as we walked down the
sidewalk.
"Mmm-hmmm. All the times that I've been in the house, I never
noticed anything, but when we were in the attic above the garage last week,
I felt a cold spot, and Jake never felt a thing until he came to stand in
front of me, and then it was gone as quickly as it came.... Very strange,"
Michael said.
"Yeah."
"So, what about you and Maggie? How do you feel about moving
into a possibly haunted house?"
"Well, as long as the ghost is friendly and doesn't mind the
baby, I don't care," I said.
"You're making jokes and I'm being completely serious!"
Michael accused. "Well, just you wait and see....As soon as things start
going 'bump in the night', you'll be sorry you didn't believe me," he said,
flashing a mischievous grin.
I noticed the photographers first. "Looks like we have
company," I commented, letting Michael know that we were being watched.
"Yeah, I see that....Telephoto lenses and all," he smirked. I
had to laugh at that, I couldn't help it.
"So, you still doing that meet-n-greet thing next weekend over
in Jersey?"
"Yeah, why, you feel like tagging along?" he asked.
"It's a mall. What am I supposed to do for what, three hours?"
"Beats me....I'm sure there's got to be at least two or three
jewelry stores. Why don't you buy that beautiful fiancé` of yours
something equally as stunning for Mother's Day?" he suggested.
"Hmmm....You just might be onto something there. Okay, I'm
in," I said with a smile.
Michael's
POV
The faintest sound of the sole of a shoe sliding across the
tiled floor....That was how it always began....Then the voices came, quiet
whispers at first which got progressively louder as things played out.....
Dripping wet, my hair hanging nearly to the middle of my back,
I came into the poolhouse after a quick swim. The water and exercise had
helped to clear my head. Now all I wanted was to soothe my body. Hitting
the switch for the whirlpool sent the bubbles gushing. A sigh of gratitude
purred out as I lowered myself down into the hot churning water.
Beams from the setting sun streamed through the ribbon of high
windows. The skylights above were deep blue with early evening. I was
relaxing in the hot-tub, submerged so that just my head was visible above
the bubbling water, when I heard a sound, a soft one, at the back of the
poolhouse, and I sat up straight. My hand was shaking as I reached over
and turned off the jets. I slowly eased myself out of the hot-tub.
"I've waited so long for this...."
At the whisper, the air clogged in my throat. Breathe, I told
myself over and over again, just keep breathing, and everything will be
just fine. The lights dimmed, and for the first time in my life, I knew
true fear.
"You're so beautiful. So incredibly beautiful. Nothing I
could ever imagine could be as perfect. Tonight, we'll finally be
together."
He was in the shadows near the rear door. I forced myself to
look, but even then I couldn't see who it was. If only would speak
normally, at least then I would recognize his voice.
I gauged the distance to the front door. "How did you get in?"
"Over the wall by the tennis courts. You haven't been using
the tennis courts. I've been watching for you."
He was speaking softly now, just barely above a whisper, and
something about his voice nagged at my brain. I shook my head to clear it,
positive I couldn't be right! It couldn't be!
"The alarm--"
"I took care of the alarm. I do possess some knowledge after
all....." And then he stepped from the shadows, one hand extended,
carrying a single, perfect, blood-red rose....
"Luc...." The air in the poolhouse was almost sultry, yet I
was nearly freezing. "Why are you doing this?"
"I love you." His eyes were glazed, and I could see no emotion
in them whatsoever. "When I first saw you in school all those years ago, I
knew I had to have you. The night of the party, Remember it? You got
sick? Robert Adams thought it would be great to slip you something and try
some shit, but I stopped him before he could actually do anything, and I
stayed with you the whole night. Remember? And then I left and married
Angelique, but it didn't last. And then I saw you again on the TV. And
then again in Los Angeles where you were making that movie. Do you
remember now?" He held out the rose, and I stepped back.
"Don't be afraid of me, KC."
"Luc, I'm Michael. Michael."
"Yes, yes, of course." He smiled at me and set the rose down
on a little table by the hot-tub. Its fragrance permeated the room, heady
and sweet. "Michael Valentine O'Neill-Orsini, with the perfect face. I've
dreamed of you for months..... Michael, you wouldn't keep my flowers."
"I'm sorry." Soon....Jake would be home soon, and then this
whole nightmare would be over, and we could move on with our lives. I felt
totally exposed still standing there in my swim trunks, so I grabbed a
terrycloth robe and put it on, belting it at the waist. Years of training
kept my movements casual, even though my heart was roaring in my ears. "It
was the way you sent them, Luc. You scared me."
"I never meant to. KC--"
"Michael," I corrected, feeling the first stirrings of panic.
"I'm Michael. Luc, I think we should go into the house and talk about
this."
"Michael?" He looked momentarily puzzled. "No, no, I want to
be alone with you. I've waited too long for this night. The perfect
night, when the moon is full." He looked down at the rose laying on the
table. "It was meant for you," he said distractedly.
"Why didn't you just talk to me?" I asked him.
"You would have rejected me. Rejected me!" he repeated, his
voice becoming louder. "Do you think I'm stupid or something? I've seen
you with all those other men, all muscles and smooth faces. But none of
them love you like I do. You've driven me crazy with waiting. You were
obsessed with Tony. It was always Tony."
"There is no Tony!" I shouted. "There is no KC! They're just
characters in a movie! They're made up, they're not real!"
"You're real. I've seen you with him. I've watched the way
you look at him, let him touch you, when it should be me. But I've been
patient. Tonight." He started toward me. "I've waited for tonight."
I ran for the front door, knowing that if I could beat him, I'd
at least have a fighting chance. Grasping the knob, I tried to turn it,
but it held firm. I laid my other hand on it's hard flat surface and
rested my forehead against it in momentary defeat.
"I locked it from the outside," Luc said quietly. "I knew
you'd try to run away! I knew you'd throw my love back in my face!"
I spun around, pressing my back to the door, temper flaring.
"You don't love me! You don't even know me! You're confused! I'm an
actor, I'm not your KC!"
He winced as if in pain and pressed his fingertips to his eyes.
"Such headaches," he murmured. "No, don't," he warned when I began edging
toward the back door. He blocked the way, then stepped back into the
shadows to pick something up. "I know what have to do, and there's no
running for either of us now, KC."
"I'm not--"
"It's too late," he said viciously. "Too late. I guess I've
always known. I hate what you've done to me." He pressed his fingers to
his temple as tears welled up in his eyes. "But as God is my witness, I
can't let another man have you. You're mine. From that first moment, you
were mine. If you could only understand that."
"Lucien," I said, using his given name. I was afraid to touch
him, but I took a small step closer anyways. "Please, come into the house
with me. I'm--I'm cold," I said, beginning to think quickly. "I'm wet, I
need to change. Then we can sit down and talk."
He looked at me, but saw only what he wanted to see. "You
can't lie to me! You're going to try to leave. You just want to see them
put me away! My doctor wants to put me away, but I know what I have to do.
For both of us. It ends here, KC."
He held up the can, and I smelled the gasoline! "Oh, God, no!"
"You were meant to die, before, in one of those 'accidents',
but I couldn't do it then. Now I have to."
He turned the can over and I lunged at him. It hit the floor
with a clatter, then skidded, the gas spreading across the tiled floor. I
fought to get past him, and heard him sob as he shoved me down and my head
hit the table. Suddenly there were shooting stars in front of my eyes....
.....I shook my head to try to clear it. The room swam, and I
struggled to my hands and knees. I smelled the smoke first, thick and
pungent. I heard the crackle of flames and looked over to see the floor
turn to fire.
He was still blocking the back door, standing there as if
hypnotized by the flames, which were spreading fast. He wasn't trying to
leave. He would die here, he wanted to die here. And he would take me
with him.
I stood, choking on smoke as I looked around frantically. My
head throbbed and spun, but I couldn't allow myself the luxury of passing
out. The windows were too high. I'd never get out that way. The front
door was barred. Like it or not, there was only one exit. I had to get
past him before the fire closed it off.
My breath came in a fit of coughing, but Luc either didn't hear
it, or he didn't care. Probably a combination of both. The flames held
his attention as they ate greedily at the far wall. The heat was growing,
visible in waves that shimmered between me and the door. Moving fast, I
grabbed a couple of towels and dumped them in the tub. Then, draping them
over my head and covering my face, I looked for a weapon.
The rose Luc brought still lay on the low wooden table where he
had left it, the petals drying quickly in the intensifying heat. I picked
up the table and, on legs that threatened to buckle, walked up behind him.
He was crying. I could hear it now as I raised the heavy
little table over my head. Tears were streaking my own face, blurring my
vision. It was almost too much.
KC, I thought as smoke clouded my brain. Once again, I was KC,
and I'd brought tragedy on myself, on those who'd loved me. Tony, Danny,
Larry....Past mistakes, past lives, past loves. If only I hadn't given my
love and innocence to Tony....
My vision went gray, and I fought to clear it. There was no KC
and Tony. Only Jake. Jake was real and I was Michael. A Winthrop and an
Orsini. Both were survivors.
Weeping, I smashed the table down on Luc's head. When he
crumpled at my feet, I could only crouch, panting, struggling to find air
in a room rapidly being consumed by smoke and flame.
Had I killed him? I looked at the doorway, framed now by
flames. My only way out. Survival. I took a step forward, stopped, then
bent over Luc.
He'd loved me. Mad or sane, whatever he'd done had been tied
to me. Somehow, later, I'd sort it out, but I couldn't save myself without
trying to save him as well.
I snatched one of the towels off my head and covered his face
with it. The ceiling gave an ominous crack, but I didn't dare look. I
didn't think. Everything was centered on living. Hooking my hands under
his armpits, I began to drag him toward the door and closer to the flames.
I was losing. There was no air to fill my lungs as I dragged
the deadweight of Luc's unconscious body across the floor. The fire was
winning., edging closer. I felt the furnace blast of heat, even through
the robe and towel and was desperately glad I had had the forethought to at
least put the robe on, and soak the towels in the tub first.
Inches from the door, I stumbled and fell, light-headed from
lack of oxygen. A little further, dammit, I demanded, dragging myself and
Luc across the floor. Oh, God, just a little further.....
With one hand holding the damp towel over my nose and mouth, I
watched, too dazed to be frightened, as a beam fell, flaming, into the
hot-tub.....
"Michael.....!"
I heard the shout dimly as my consciousness started to waver.
Somehow I had managed to gain another two inches.....Dammit, I'd almost
made it.....Just a little bit more, and I'd have been home free.....
"Michael...!
I sat bolt up-right in bed, coughing and not able to catch my
breath, my eyes open wide, but un-seeing as I was in the final grips of the
dream. I hated the nightmares! I felt arms around my shoulders, and hands
holding mine. Mom was on my left and dad was on my right.
"Sweetie, are you alright?" my mom was asking.
"Water," I croaked. My dad filled a glass from the pitcher on
the nightstand and handed it to me. I took a sip, savoring it. Then
another. Eventually I emptied the glass.
"Are you okay?" mom asked again.
"I'm fine," I said at last, and this time I meant it. "I
finally remembered everything. It's always been bits and pieces, fragments
at best, really, before. But this time I remembered it all, from the swim
I took, almost up until Jake pulled us out. Mom, Luc....He was so
pathetic, so confused....He had created this whole fantasy romance in his
mind, and in the end it overwhelmed him."
"He would have killed you," my dad said.
"He would have killed KC," I corrected. "I can only feel
regret for the way his life turned out and pray he's finally at peace. He
did clear up something for me though, however."
"What?" my mom wanted to know.
"Nothing. Don't worry about it. It's in the past, and I'm
fine with letting it stay there. I just want to get on with my life. And
I think the first step should be going back to sleep," I said.
Getting the hint, mom tucked me in, and kissed me on the
forehead, just like when I was the twins' age, and she and my dad went back
to their room. I lay in bed with my eyes closed and thought of Jake. I
drifted off to sleep with a smile on my face.
"I think I'm going to have Cecily schedule your next
appointment for two weeks out," Vicky McNamara, my psychiatrist, said as we
wrapped up our usual Friday session.
"What? Why?"
"Because I think you're ready. I think your most recent dream,
as you described it, is your own mind's way of telling you that it's time
to let go of everything that happened. It was the most complete recounting
of everything that happened up to and including the fire, correct?"
"Yes....."
"And what Luc said, about the incident at the party at his home
back when you were teenagers? How do you feel about that?"
"Truthfully, I hadn't thought about any of that in years.....I
think I had probably blocked it out completely....."
"Well, now that you've started to remember things, you can
begin the process of healing yourself."
"Healing myself...." I mused aloud. "Is that even possible?"
I asked doubtfully.
"I think it's absolutely possible. Michael, When you finally
had the chance to save yourself, you couldn't just leave Luc there to die.
That's just not the kind of person you are. Believe me when I say this...I
know many people in your position would have just left him there, given
everything he had done to you, but you didn't. You tried to save both of
you. Now that you know that for a fact, coupled with everything else you
remembered, I think you'll find that you probably won't be having
nightmares, or at least this particular one, anymore."
"Well, from your lips to God's ears," I said ruefully.
"I'm quite happy and proud for you, believe it or not. This is
the moment that we've been working towards for the past month. Don't sell
yourself short. I think you're a very strong and resilient young man,
Michael. Now, I want you to just take the next two weeks and think about
everything that we talked about today, in addition to everything that you
told me about the fire, and what you've remembered. You've come a very
long way in a short time. I like the progress you've made."
"Thank you," I said quietly.
"Now, I want you to go out and have a nice weekend. Treat your
mother to a nice dinner out somewhere. Doctor's orders!" Vicky said with
a smile. "I'll see you in two weeks."
"I found out some really interesting things from my dad," I
told Peter as we cruised the mall food court. I had been sitting all
morning at one of several long tables with numerous stars from all of the
soaps, signing autographs and posing for pictures, So far the fans response
to my haircut had all been favorable. There was also some kind of book
signing going on at Borders, and someone was also signing CD's at Sam
Goodie's. All in all, quite a busy Saturday at the mall.
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Did you know that we don't have to get all of our
building permits at once?"
"What?"
"Yeah. Apparently we actually only really need to get permits
for what is going to be built, since they're only good for six months.
This way I can do it on a floor by floor basis and not be wasting a bunch
of money. And they'll consider each floor and apartment separately
anyways, so we're better off to just get things approved as we go along.
There was a bunch of other stuff too. I've already got my lawyer working
on the co-op paperwork for the spaces," I said, sounding kind of like a kid
at Christmas.
"Excited much?" Peter asked with a smile.
"Yes, aren't you? It's finally going to start happening!"
"Excuse me, I'm sorry for interrupting, but I couldn't help
over-hearing. You're Michael Orsini, right? You're renovating the Hayes
Mansion?" asked the man behind us in line for Pizza Hut. He looked
vaguely familiar, about six feet tall, with brown hair a bit on the longish
side, bright blue eyes, and a pretty decent build.
"Yes?" I replied cautiously. "How did you know that?"
"I thought so. There are no secrets in my line of work. Well,
a few, but not too many."
I could feel Peter beginning to tense up beside me. "Well, you
seem to have me at a dis-advantage, Mr....."
"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized once again, and extended his
hand. "Nate. Nate Berkus."
##############################################################################
Well, that's it for part 10. I just wanted to say Thank You to
Avy and Chris. Avy, we'll miss Jakes Cowboy. Please don't stop writing,
you're far too good at it! Chris, as always, keep up the great work! I
loved the wedding! I liked the cupcakes instead of the traditional cake.
It made a nice touch.....To everyone else, please write your favorite
authors and let them know that you're out there. Feedback us writers love
it! You can reach through my email at dnsphelps@mcsi.net Just be sure to
mention the story title in the subject line. I can also be found on yahoo
messenger at twains_fan_03@yahoo.com, on msn messenger at
twains_fan_03@hotmail.com, AIM at GuyOregon8, and on myspace at
http://www.myspace.com/dnsphelps
Feel free to hit me up on any of these.
Happy Mother's Day!
Stephen