Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Nina

   Chapter 12

   You know, back to the funeral ...  Jennifer's mom and dad.  I saw them
there.  They were cordial, as always was the case, and they hugged on Sandy
and stood with her between themselves and me during the service.

   After the graveside service, Jennifer's mom, Glenda Garrett, bent over
to speak to Sandy as we were leaving.  "Sandy," she said.  "We love you,
child.  We want ...  Well, keep in touch." Glenda stood and looked at me,
unsmiling, her expression something I couldn't parse.  "Dan, we'd like to
see a lot of Sandy."

   "I think that's a good idea, Mizz Glenda.  My parents are gone. 
Grandparents are good for kids." I was being honest.  Yes, Glenda was one
of those 'difficult' personalities.  I can't help but believe that it was
her influence, her strange idea of status and entitlement that screwed up
Jennifer in the first place.  But that wasn't enough to keep a little girl
from visiting her grandma.

   Andrew Garrett, Sandy's grandfather, he was probably the most hen-pecked
guy in the state.  However, I do know how he survived.  He and Glenda used
to do a mixed drink every evening when he came in from work, or after
dinner, now that he was retired.  She thought it somehow genteel and
sophisticated.  He saw it as an excuse for the smell of alcohol on his
breath.  He kept a half-gallon of bourbon in his workshop, replenished
frequently.

   Jennifer had a sister, too, but she was out of the picture.  Actually,
the sister was out of her freakin' mind, living with some sort of spiritual
guru or guide or whatever on a farm or ashram or whatever scam he was
running.  She didn't even come in for her sister's funeral, and I'd seen
her exactly twice in the years I was married to Jennifer.

   So that's where we were.  Me.  Nina.  Sandy.  There are crazier 'blended
families' in the world today.  This one is ours.

   Friday after work I visited the local rental emporium that gets a
significant portion of business from the facility where I work, a fact that
I mentioned (TWICE.  Pointed out my name on a couple of purchase orders)
and rented an enclosed trailer.  As in, "Ten bucks to cover the paperwork
and we'll call it good, Mister Gleason!"

   We went to dinner Friday night in Nina's little car, rather than tug
that trailer through parking lots.

   Saturday morning we were up early, on the road at six, through the
McDonalds for a bag of breakfast, then we were back on the road with a
piano work on the stereo, a fact not unnoticed by the ten year old in the
back seat.

   "Dad, can I take piano lessons?  I wanna play stuff like that."

   "Are you gonna be serious about it?  I don't like that 'flavor of the
week' thing, little girl."

   "I know, Dad." She huffed.  "I'm serious about it."

   "You have to be.  There's a pretty long road from where you are today to
playing Mozart."

   "Yes, Dad, I know..." she sounded slightly exasperated.

   Nina walked up to the little bonfire we had going between me and Sandy
and dumped gasoline on it.  "Dan, I'd like to take lessons with her.  We're
BOTH beginners."

   Apparently there was another Plan being implemented.  I thought I'd test
to see if I was right.  "So where did you two decide to put the piano?"

   Sandy said, "That short wall between the door to the kitchen and the
hall.  You'll have to move a bookcase."

   I'd been had, and what's worse, I was actually happy about it.  "Nina,
do you think you two can look into who might be a suitable teacher?"

   Squeal!  "Thank you, Daddy!"

   Nina just looked at me and smiled.

   The actual trip, one way, was almost four hundred miles.  Somewhere
along the ride we changed the CD to something else.

   Nina laughed.  "Oak Ridge Boys?  Are you KIDDING!"

   Sandy giggle.  "Daddy sings the bass part!  Show 'er, Daddy!"

   Okay ...  Call it a weakness.  Apparently it's contagious, because I
soon had the three of us singing along in harmony as the miles rolled by.

   Lunch was a chain restaurant just off the interstate, and mid-afternoon,
we pulled up on the residential street in front of Harry and Jennifer's
house.  There was a car I didn't recognize in the driveway, and since it
didn't have dealer plates, I surmised it wasn't Harry's.  We walked to the
door.

   Sandy barged right in.  "Harry!  It's meeee..."

   "Well, hello, Sandy," Glenda said.

   That explained the unidentified car.

   She looked up at me and Nina standing in the door.  The smile that was
there for Sandy waned quickly.  "Do come in," she said.  "Harry's not here.
He had to be at work.  I've been helping him with Jennifer's things.  It's
hard for him, you know."

   "I can't see where it would be any easier for you, Glenda," I said.  I
was honest.  The lady'd lost her daughter.  That had to be tough.

   "One does what one must, Dan," she said.  "You're here to get Sandy's
things?"

   "Yes," I said.  "We brought a trailer."

   "Dan, can I talk to you a minute?" she said.

   "Sure!' I said.

   "In private?"

   "Oooo-kay," I said.  We walked outside.  Sandy was sitting with Nina,
holding a picture of her and her mom, crying.  Nina looked at me and nodded
acknowledgment, and went back to stroking Sandy's hair, consoling a sobbing
little girl.

   I followed Glenda outside.

   She turned.  "Dan, I know you're newly married ...  to that girl..."

   The little twist of her tone changed my mode from friendly and
sympathetic to wary.  Very wary.

   "We want Sandy to live with us, Dan." Her grey eyes were hard.

   "Glenda," I said, "Sandy was going to ask Jenn about moving in with us,
Nina and me, this summer.  She fits well with Nina and me.  We'll make sure
she visits you any time she wants.  Whenever it's okay with you and Andy.
But she's MY daughter.  I want her with me."

   "Dan, I don't think she should be exposed to you and your teen bride."

   "Glenda," I said, struggling to maintain decorum, "We are decent people,
Nina and I.  We ARE married.  I don't remember you objecting to what Sandy
was exposed to when Jennifer hauled her out of our house to move in with
her boyfriend six months before the divorce was final."

   "That's immaterial.  History lesson.  Dan, I'm serious.  You'd have your
freedom, you and uh ...  Nina, is it?  You two could do whatever you
wanted, when you wanted.  Sandy's just gonna be in YOUR way..."

   I tried to defuse the situation.  "Glenda, I know it's tough for you
right now, losing Jennifer.  Let's just let things go as they are.  You'll
be able to think clearly in a few days..."

   "Don't you DARE patronize me, Dan Gleason!" she spat.  "I know what I'm
doing!"

   "No, Glenda, I don't think you do.  Do you honestly mean that you were a
bigger part of Sandy's life since Jennifer left me than I was?  Seriously?
I can't believe you think like that." I was struggling now to keep civil.

   "Okay, Dan," she said through tight lips.  "We'll leave things as they
are.  I will help you locate Sandy's things.  I've found some photos and
things of Jennifer's that Sandy should have."

   "Okay, Glenda," I said.

   Nina looked at me curiously when we walked back into the house.  We
loaded boxes and bags and a raft of clothes on hangers and lastly, a cat
carrier with a grey male tabby cat who was not happy with the disrespect
being shown him.

   Nina and I were rearranging the boxes in the trailer.  Sandy was inside
with her grandmother, being shown photo albums.

   "What went on out here, baby?" she asked.  "I couldn't make out words,
but your voice..."

   "Don't say anything to Sandy, sweetheart, but Glenda wants Sandy to live
with them.  I told her 'no way'."

   "You're serious?  What's she thinking?"

   "Sweetie," I said, "She said that it would allow us to have our lives to
ourselves, without having to worry about Sandy."

   "How just too wonderfully admirable of her, Dan!  Yeah, I didn't expect
to end up with Sandy a month and a half ago when we got married, but you
know what?!?!?  I LIKE her!" She paused and looked into my eyes, that ebony
hair in delightful disarray.  "You aren't considering it, are you?"

   "No.  Not really.  Sandy's lost her mom.  She doesn't need her dad
dumping her off on grandma."

   I got a kiss on the cheek.  "Good!  That's my Dan!  And OUR Sandy."

   We went inside and retrieved Sandy.  Harry drove up, parking on his own
lawn.  Sandy ran up and hugged him.  "I'm sorry, Harry..." she said.  He
bent over and she kissed him on the cheek.  I walked up to him as Sandy
went to talk to her cat.

   "Harry, I'm sorry.  Again.  And Sandy ...  I know she's not yours, but
she likes you.  Send her a card or talk to her every now and then.  This is
hard on her.  Her whole life turned upside down."

   "I appreciate that, Dan.  She's a good kid, but Jenn used to get
exasperated at her.  Said, in her words, she was so much YOU.  But yeah,
she's a good kid.  Smart.  Real smart.  I'll keep in touch, for her sake."

   Nina came up behind me.  "We're ready to roll, Dan."

   "I'll see you around, Harry," I said.  I got in the car without looking
for Glenda, and we drove off with a pet-friendly hotel as a destination for
the night.  We parked the SUV and trailer and the four of us, me, Nina,
Sandy and one fuzzy Mister Mittens who was glaring at the world from his
barred vantage in the pet carrier.

   Bathing suits came out and we did an hour at the pool, then retreated to
the room and enjoyed delivery pizza for dinner.  The three of us sat
cross-legged on one of the two queen beds and played cards for a while,
then the two of them located a nature show on TV and we went to sleep.

   At six the next morning, we did the reverse of the previous day's trip.
Arriving at home, I backed the trailer into the drive and we started
unloading.  After the first three boxes were inside, I did the unloading
while Nina and Sandy started putting things away.  Mister Mittens was still
in the pet carrier, having a stare-down through the bars at Sam, who was
considering this NEW intrusion into his carefully managed household.

   Once I got the trailer emptied, I walked into Sandy's room, interrupting
a discussion about the order one uses to hang one's clothing.  "I'm gonna
go turn in the trailer," I said.  "If you two come with me, we can go out
to eat.  If you stay, I expect to see a meal in progress when I get back.

   Sandy looked at Nina.  "Honestly, Nina, how DO you put up with 'im?"
Giggle.

   "It's the price I pay to associate with his bright children," Nina
quipped right back.

   "Well I suppose one must make sacrifices..." My precocious daughter.

   We dropped the trailer off and went to the Italian restaurant for
dinner.

   '"Sandy, this is where your dad and I went on our first date."

   "Really?" Sandy said.

   "Really," I answered.  "And I didn't even know it was a date.  I thought
I was bringing a bright young high school girl out to eat after working
with her on her trigonometry."

   Dinner was a happy affair.  Maybe happier for them than me, because I
had this nagging feeling that Glenda was going to be a problem.  I pushed
it out of my mind and enjoyed dinner, and we went home.

   Sandy walked in and went to the cat carrier.  "Dad, can I let Mister
Mittens out now?"

   "Sure, baby," I said.  "But they might not get along very well.  They're
two cats used to having their own houses.  Now they have to share."

   She opened the carrier and Mister Mittens walked warily out into his new
home.  Sam observed from the arm of the sofa.  Okay.  That looked pretty
good.  The next forty-five minutes was occupied by various showers and
post-shower rituals.

   We played a round of rummy, the stereo on in the background, and then
what would become another ritual for us, three mugs of herbal tea, relaxing
for bed.

   Sandy kissed me and Nina good night.  "I'll sleep in my room tonight,"
she announced.  Maybe Mister Mittens will sleep in there with me.  Sam
does."

   I tucked her in.  "I love you, Sandy."

   "I love you too, Dad," she said.

   Nina and I retired to our bedroom, closing the door.  She turned to me,
throwing arms around my neck.  "Long day, honey," she said.  "Now, is there
anything that Glenda can really do about getting Sandy away from us?"

   "Not that I know of, baby," I said.  "But all the same, I'm calling my
lawyer in the morning." I ran my hands down her sides, savoring her form
through the cloth of her nightshirt.

   "You could do better if this thing was off," she whispered.  I peeled
her nightshirt off over her head, watching her sassy hair splay out, and
she slid her panties down, kicking her feet free.  "Now yours," she
whispered.

   I complied.  We loved on each other with hands and mouths and she tugged
me into her and she had a shuddering little orgasm and I filled her with my
own.

   "We need to put our nightshirts back on, baby" she said afterward.  We
did.  She rolled on her side and I spooned up behind her.  I put my arm
around her and she put my hand over her breast and whispered, "I love you,
Dan."

   "I love you, too, Nina." And we went to sleep.

   Monday morning.  Nina got up with me, despite my suggestion that she
sleep in.  Apparently we made enough noise to wake Sandy because she walked
into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes.

   "Hi, sleepy head," I said.

   "Mornin', Dad.  Mornin', Nina."

   "How'd you sleep?" Nina asked.

   "Two cats.  One on each side.  Ever time I move I have to move one."

   "That means they'll do okay.  As long as there's a little girl between
'em." Of course, I was immediately made to be a liar when two cats
sauntered into the kitchen in close tandem.  I was out the door before
seven and in my office before seven thirty.

   After the staff meeting, I retired to my office and closed the door.  My
computer gave me the phone number.  I dialed.

   A pleasant female voice answered, "Grantham Law Offices.  Can I help
you?"

   I explained who I was, cited some work that Dodd Grantham had done for
me and vice versa, added a remark about us being in high school together,
and asked if he could call me back.  I figured, 'yeah, right ...  that'll
happen...  ' but was pleasantly surprised shortly afterward when the phone
rang and I answered.

   "Dan Gleason, XYZCorp, can I help you?"

   "Hey, Dan.  This is Dodd Grantham.  Maybe I can help you?"

   "Dodd," I said, "If I need to come to your office, just say so, but I
got a question."

   "Shoot," he said.  "I don't start chargin' until you make me do
research."

   I explained the situation.  "Can she take Sandy?  Court order or
something?"

   "Look, Dan ...  Under the conditions of the custodial parent's death,
the surviving parent retains custody.  That's you.  The only exception is
if you're an unfit parent.  You're not.  And there's no judge in THIS town
that would rule you as unfit."

   "What about an eighteen year old wife?" I asked.

   "Oh, that might raise an eyebrow, but you could be the pole dancer in a
transvestite bar and they wouldn't say anything these days.  You're not in
prison.  You're employed.  You're not on drugs.  You're fit, as far as the
courts are concerned."

   "Good," I said.  "So what do you think the ex-mother in law is
thinking?"

   "Wellll," Dodd said, "If she came to me, I'd tell her that her only
chance would be to get you to sign over custody voluntarily.  If it was me,
and she'd already asked you herself, I think my final step would be to call
you myself and make a few carefully crafted but idle threats to see if
you'd fold your hand."

   "My, you lawyers are a devious bunch, aren't you?" I laughed.

   "Law ain't like that electrical stuff you play with.  Rules in MY game
are what we choose to make them."

   I laughed again.  "Well, they may pull your license for it, but you've
actually helped me today."

   Dodd chuckled.  "Glad to do it.  But hey, new wife, kid, you need to get
your will straightened out.  Come see me.  I'll fix you up, and won't screw
you too bad."

   "You know, I need to do that.  Thanks for reminding me."

   "Yeah.  And if you get hauled into court over this, let me know.  We'll
win.  And if they take you to court and they lose, they'll pay me, not
you."

   "Okay, Dodd.  I appreciate the advice."

   "No problem," he said.  "You helped me on that suit last year." I'd
given him a professional report on an issue that showed up in an almost
frivolous lawsuit.

   I opened my door, considerably relaxed, and left the office in my
golf-cart to survey my kingdom.

   Lunch today was a sandwich, packed with love, so I was told, by Nina.

   After lunch I had a roll of drawings spread out on the table in my
office when my phone rang.  Nina.  "Hey, baby," I said.

   "Hey, guy," she answered.  She didn't sound too happy.  "You're getting
ready to get a phone call from a lawyer.  He called here looking for your
work number.  I told him I couldn't give it out.  He said he'd get it
anyway."

   I recounted my earlier conversation with Dodd.  "Still, though, it seems
like she's going to give it a try."

   "We'll do okay.  In the meantime, I won't let her call Sandy.  But if
Sandy wants to call her..."

   "Discourage it," I said.  "I don't know how, but I don't want her
playing games with Sandy."

   "Okay, sweetie.  I'll have dinner on the stove when you get home, okay?"

   "Okay, love ya, sweetie!  Bye." I hung up.

   Sure enough, twenty minutes later, the phone rang.  "Dan Gleason,
XYZCorp, can I help you?"

   "Mister Gleason, I am Howard Smythe, attorney for Mr.  & Mrs.  Andrew
Garrett, parents of your deceased ex-wife.  They are formally requesting
custody of their grand-daughter.  It would be easiest for all involved if
you'd sign a voluntary consent to this."

   "Sir, I know who you are." I did.  He was the go-to guy if you wanted to
hit up Wal-Mart for tripping in the parking lot or wanted to claim you
found a dismembered body in your new refrigerator or a mouse in your Pepsi
or whatever.  Ambulance-chasers had to push HIM out of the way.  He was a
joke, fighting against his payment of child support for his own kids who
were living with their mom whom he'd divorced to marry his new legal
assistant.  I continued.  "I see no reason to comply with that request.  My
daughter has been with me for the last three weeks.  She's faced the trauma
of losing her mom, and I'll be damned if I subject her to the feelings that
her dad doesn't want her around."

   "Mr.  Gleason, I advise you that we may likely file suit for custody. 
It could be unpleasant for you and your new wife." Oily.  That's how he
sounded.  Oily.

   "Howard," I said, not giving him the honor of using his last name, "In
the immortal words of General McAuliffe of Bastogne, 'Nuts!'.  Do what you
have to do.  Good day, sir!" Clunk.  I hung up.

   My next move was to alert Dodd Grantham.  "Head's up," I told him.

   I went home seething over the audacity of Glenda.  I pulled Nina aside
and explained what had transpired.

   "I think we should explain it to her, Dan.  She's smart.  She can grasp
what's going on."

   "Okay, baby.  Let's go have a family talk." When we walked into the
living room, she looked up.

   "Uh-oh, looks serious," she said.

   We sat down.  Nina was at my side.  "Come sit here," I said.

   She perched on my knee.  "Dad?  You look serious."

   "It is serious, baby.  Your grandmother wants you to go live with them."

   Her eyes flicked back and forth between mine and Nina's.  "but I like it
here.  Ya'll do want me, right?" Her face was darkened with concern now.

   "Of course we do, little one.  We're both very happy to have you with
us. We make a neat family."

   "That's what I thought.  Nina and I had fun today.  Tomorrow we're
s'posed to talk with piano teachers.  Nina's gonna learn with me."

   I closed my eyes.  Why did anyone want to hurt my daughter now?

   "I don't want to go live with gran'ma, Dad.  I dunno, she's ... 
strange. I mean, she's my gran'ma, and I love 'er, but I don't want to live
there."

   "Sweetie, the only way you'd go there is if YOU told me and Nina that
moving there was what you wanted.  Not what your grandma wanted.  But there
may be a fight.  With lawyers.  I ...  we wanted you to be prepared."

   She looked sad.  Now I questioned my wisdom in telling her.  I'd just
added uncertainty to her life when she was already shaken.

   "You're my precious little girl, baby.  Nina and I will do everything we
can to keep you here.  Don't worry.  I talked with a lawyer today and he
tells me we can't lose."

   "Okay, Dad.  'cuz I doubt that Gran'ma would buy me a piano."

   Nina said, "Come on, let's eat dinner.  I talked to my Baptist
grandmother, and I have made us a casserole."

   "What religion do I have to find to get pie in this house?" I joked.

   We started settling into something like a routine.  Sandy went with Nina
to the library and helped out with the kid programs, and of course, hauled
back a bunch of books.  We added another laptop to the house stable.  I
heard nothing from anybody for a couple of days.

   On Thursday evening, we were just getting the table set for dinner when
there was a knock on my door.  I got served.  Family Court.  In the case of
Daniel Gleason vs.  Glenda Garrett, re: custody of minor child, Sandra
Gleason.

   Nina and Sandy sat beside me on the sofa as I read the legalese. 
"Judgment of fitness." "Best interests of the child."

   In my engineer's mind I recalled the part of Dodd's advice that said, "
And there's no judge in THIS town that would rule you as unfit", and
countered that with " Rules in MY game are what we choose to make them." I
preferred laws from people named Ohm and Boyle and Thevenin.

   I did my best to reassure my family.  It's a difficult thing to do when
you need reassurance yourself.

   I called Dodd Grantham as soon as I thought I could get through.  He was
incredulous.  "Can you fax it to me?"

   "How about scan and email?"

   "Even better." He gave me an address.  "I'll look over it and call you
back.  We'll know how this is gonna shake out."

   Thirty minutes later the phone rang in my office.  "Dan Gleason,
XYZCorp, can I help you?"

   "Dan, this is Dodd.  Things move fast with these cases.  You've got a
hearing next Thursday in family court.  These things don't look like
courtroom stuff on TV.  If we're lucky, we can end the whole thing then. 
If not, well, we'll just move to the next step."

   "What are we talking about?  A hearing?"

   "Yeah, family court judge sits.  They appoint a social worker on the
child's behalf.  That's the sticky part, I guess.  The social worker is
going to interview you, your child, your new wife, trying to determine the
suitability of the home the child is living in.  They'll also interview the
grandmother and grandfather and see what kind of home they have." He
paused. "Now let me ask you something, and please understand, I'm your
lawyer and nothing you tell me goes any further.  I just need to know what
they might find to use on their side."

   "I can't think of anything, Dodd," I said.  "I'm employed, financially
solvent, substantial savings, own my house, haven't even had a traffic
ticket in years.  I don't drink, other than socially.  No drugs."

   "What about your wife?"

   "Nina?  Graduated two months ago with honors.  She was eighteen before
we really started dating.  We're legally married.  Same thing.  No drugs,
no alcohol?"

   "D'you understand 'moral turpitude'?" he asked.

   "Yes I do." I told him about Nina's mom, and her grandmother, and Nina's
two incidents, one at school.  "But she was a minor.  There shouldn't be
any record.  She wasn't charged."

   "Well, Dan," he said, "I know that, but this isn't a criminal
proceeding, and if somebody has knowledge of either incident, they may
bring it up." He paused.  "Honestly, Dan, I still don't see us as having a
problem.  I think our friend is just posturing, hoping that the weight of
his name is going to scare you into giving up."

   "Ah, for heaven's sake, Dodd!  It's freakin' Howard Smythe.  In a just
society he'd be dead from a duel years ago.  He's the caricature of the 99%
of lawyers that give the rest a bad name."

   "I know, Dan," he chuckled.  "I don't think a sane lawyer would've taken
this case.  But we still need to treat it as serious.  Can you and your
wife and daughter come by the office Monday or Tuesday?  I need to talk
with all of you, just to make sure we're all on the same sheet of music."

   "Dodd, these two are the love of my life," I said.

   "I understand completely, Dan.  I just want to give 'em a little
guidance about what to expect, and to make sure we don't have any traps
waiting.  Monday then?  Four o'clock?"

   "That works," I said.

   That evening we had a family discussion about what I'd learned.  All of
it.  Nina explained the high school incident to Sandy.  She glossed over
the attempted molestation with 'a bad man tried to do bad things to me and
I fought him off as best I could."

   Saturday we shopped for pianos.  A teacher had been selected, an older
woman who played Sundays at her church and who'd actually had a little
career in music.  She recommended a music store to visit.  Nina told me,
"Mizz Lester says these people will do us right.  Just mention her name."

   "Ah, Mizz Lester," the salesman said.  "She's been teaching for years.
Here's what will work.  It's used.  Older.  But it'll work until you come
back to buy a Steinway.  Who's taking lessons."

   "Me an' Nina," Sandy said.

   "Oh, really?" he smiled.  "And you want the books Mizz Lester uses,
too?"

   "I guess," I said.  "I'm not packing this thing home by myself.  When
can you deliver?"

   "Monday afternoon?  Tuesday?"

   "Tuesday will work.  That gives me time to move things around."

   "We have to move a bookcase," Nina smiled.

   The next stop was sixty miles up the road to an outdoor store.  We left
there with a pink kayak on a trailer.  Yes, I was operating on the
assumption that we were a family now, and a family we would be.

   Sunday we made an event of driving to a park and spending the day
bicycling and picnicking.

   Monday I scooted off the job a little early and brought my bunch to
Dodd's office.  I was in my 'engineer at work' cloths.  Nina and Sandy were
dressed almost identically in jeans and blouses and athletic shoes, two
pair of blue eyes, identical haircuts, one blonde, and one dark brunette.

   We were ushered into Dodd's office.  I introduced my girls to Dodd.  I
think he was impressed.  Neither of them looked particularly abused.  Dodd
said so.

   "So let me tell you what's going on with this hearing, folks," he said,
smiling his best smile.  "We have an advantage, I think.  Dan, Nina, they
may question you a bit hard, but Sandy, they'll be very careful about how
they talk to you.  All they want to know is how you really feel about
things."

   You don't give Sandy an opening like that.  "Mister Dodd, I feel like
they're crazy.  I was gonna ask to come live with Dad this summer when I
got home.  Before Mom..." her eyes wetted and she suppressed a sob.

   "Even with him marrying Miss Nina?" Dodd asked.

   "Especially since he married Miss Nina.  Don't'cha think it would've
been hard, I mean, with Dad workin', for me to stay by myself?  "But with
Miss Nina..."

   "Nina?  Your thoughts?" He asked.

   Nina sucked in a breath.  I knew that as a sign she was going into her
'soliloquy mode'.  "Mister Dodd, I knew that Dan had a daughter before we
got married, and that she'd be part of our life together.  Yes, I was
worried.  I've heard some bad stories about step-mom relationships, but I
love Dan and I started talking to Sandy on the phone way before she joined
us for the summer.  We hit it off.  Before we came back off vacation she
brought up the idea of her wanting to move in with us, and I know her, and
I know Dan, and I know me, and I know it would work.  I don't know how to
characterize our relationship.  Maybe sisters, sort of, but we worked it
all out so far."

   "You just tell 'em that on Thursday, young lady," Dodd said.  "Now,
folks, I expect that in a day or two you'll get an unannounced visit from
social services to determine the suitability of your home."

   Nina giggled.  "Then Dan needs to move a bookcase for the piano we're
getting tomorrow."

   That put us back at the house.  Nina was in the kitchen.

   "Something with noodles, Dan," she said, and she started cooking while
Sandy and I moved stacks of books to get that bookcase to a movable state,
helped tremendously by two cats who thought that every box needed to be
tried on for size.

   I and my diminuitive helper had the books out of the case and stacked in
my office/spare bedroom.  Nina gave me a hand scooting the case into the
space I'd made for it, and then she looked at the spot on the carpet that
had previously been covered by the bookcase.

   "Oh, now I KNOW we need a piano," she said.  "Or new carpet!"

   "Next spring," I said.  "I was planning on it.  Now you and I and Sandy
have to decide together on it."

   The kitchen timer dinged and Nina pulled the casserole out of the oven,
and it was dinnertime.