"I miss Daddy...when's he comin' home?"

I look at Tyler, who's sitting on the playroom floor gazing dolefully at his Lego's. Russell's been gone for nearly a week and a half now, something I'd forgotten could be so difficult, especially now with four children.

He hasn't worked on a major project since Tyler was just over a year old (he's three now) and hasn't had to do a major publicity tour since just before I became pregnant with the twins. That's quite a long time. But he's in the States as a special favor to an old friend and the AFI, to present a special filmmaking achievement award to Ron Howard, and also to promote a documentary he did narration on for him. He was able to do all the work for that here, at our small in-home recording studio he built some time ago, so this is the first time in Tyler's recent memory Daddy's been away and he doesn't like that.

"He'll be back soon, peanut," I reassure. The twins are lying on a blanket on the floor in front of me. Em's dropped her string of teething beads, and I give it back to her while Jaden fusses, bored. I hand him a bright ring with colored shapes dangling from it, and he's content.

"But now I don't gots anyone to help me," my son complains forlornly. 

"I can help you, sweetie," I tell him.

Bluntly, Tyler tells me, "You can't do it, Mommy. You're not good at buildin' stuff." 

My ego's taken a beating. Lily jumps in. "I'll help, Tyler."

"You're no good at it either, Lil." He frowns. "Not like Daddy. When's he comin' back, Mama? I miss him." 

"I miss Daddy too," Lil sighs, echoing my thoughts and feelings. 

When this came up, we discussed it, and agreed it would be too difficult, with Jaden and Emily still so small, to travel so far with all of the kids. We still haven't found someone to help out, and while I know it'd make things easier, I'm still selfishly quite possessive of my children and my own ability to care for them. As a single mom these last several days, it's been challenging and yet extremely rewarding. Even though Russell's called every single day, admittedly, it hasn't been the same as having him here, and we all definitely feel the loss of his presence in our home.

"Daddy will be back in ten days," I tell them. "Just over a week. We can manage just fine till then, can't we, guys?"

They both nod. I smile at them with sympathy. "I know how you feel. I miss him, too. But you two have been such a wonderful help to me, and we'll think of some fun things to do together, and then, just before your dad comes back, we can plan something special to welcome him home, okay?"

They're proud of my praise and excited at the prospect of planning out treats and surprises. So we're now all out of the doldrums and another family crisis is averted.

Little would I know this would become the least of my worries. 

A day or so later, David, our personal minder, comes over to the house.

We don't really need watching over when we're here, at the farm, except that when Russell left, he asked David to keep an eye on us. Pretty much he's let us just go about our daily lives as usual, other than I've insisted he come over for meals with me and the children, rather than fend for himself. Russell's parents have spent a lot of time with us as well and he gets on fine with Alex in particular. His expression now, however, is decidedly grim, and I realize this isn't a social visit.

"What's wrong?" Instantly, I'm on high alert.

"You haven't heard from Russ." It's a statement rather than a query. 

"No, he was supposed to call...I know he went up to Canada for a day or so and he told me he'd let me know when he got back. What's happened?" I have a growing sense of dread as, with Emmy in my arms, I go to also automatically pick up Jaden. Lil and Tyler, sensing something wrong, are both quiet and watching us intensely.

"Here, let me." David takes Jaden. He loves all of our children like a foster grandpa, and they adore him, too. "You'd better come see the telly." Then, looking at my two older kids, "Perhaps they shouldn't..."

"Muffin, please stay here with your brother." I follow David to the den, waiting while he turns on the television and finds the around-the-clock news channel. If it was something truly horrible, I tell myself, David would be telling me direct. He wouldn't be showing me on TV...Still, I'm not prepared for the image flickering to life on the screen.

My husband is being led by a New York City police officer past a crowd of onlookers and photographers. Flashbulbs are popping like crazy and people are shouting at him...this is a sight I've witnessed countless times, but not with my husband's hands cuffed behind his back as he prepares to enter a police cruiser. I gasp in shock and almost drop Emily, who begins to fret because I'm holding on to her too tightly.

"Sit down, Liss." David's the only person besides Russell to call me Lissy most of the time and he does it primarily when I'm in distress. "I'm sorry; I should've told you rather than done it like this..."

I'm shaking and I can hardly contain myself. "WHAT HAPPENED????" I ask, trying to comfort the baby, who senses my agitation and is beginning to get a bit louder. Finally trying to relax, I get her to settle and listen to a combination of the television and David.

Apparently, he was trying to call home and the hotel phone was, pardon my expression, a piece of crap. When he went to complain, the situation escalated to where he ended up throwing the phone in frustration...only it hit the hotel clerk and he called the police, who then arrested my husband and charged him with assault. With a deadly weapon, the telephone, no less. He got hauled off to jail, finally got out on his own recognizance, but is facing a possible jail sentence if this all ends up having to go to court. This is what the report is saying and also David, who's been in contact with the others over there with him but not Russell himself. This happened a few hours ago but it's just making headlines now.

"He said he didn't mean it, it was an accident it hit the other bloke..." David is saying and I shake my head, over and over, cradling Emmy against me. "Of course it was an accident; my husband's not a criminal!" I'm upset, outraged, heartbroken, frightened. "He's not. He's not..."

"I know that, and you know that." David's sitting beside me with Jaden, trying to comfort me. "We'll work this out, all right?"

"But how...?" I'm getting even more agitated because they're repeatedly rerunning the clip. Russell looks subdued and stoic on camera, but god only knows what's going through his mind and his heart. I wish I was there to be with him and offer what support I could, but ironically, if I was there with him, this wouldn't have happened in the first place. David turns it off and faces me. "You can't blame yourself," he says, almost like he's reading my mind, "because he was trying to reach you. And, if you don't mind my speaking out, now's not the time for anger."

"No," I'm not sure what I'm feeling because I'm in shock. "Where is he now?"

"I imagine he'll be calling as soon as he's able." David is trying his best to be gentle and supportive. "He had to go before a judge for a prelim and I reckon he'll be wanting to get in touch with you as quickly as possible after that. You shouldn't be alone. I called the folks," meaning Russell's parents, "and they're coming over to be with you and the children for a while."

I can only imagine their reaction. "Do...do they know?" I ask.

He nods. "They caught it on the news, about the same time I did. I told them I'd be the one to break it to you." 

Now I'm crying. "What am I going to tell the kids?"

"That's between the two of you, when he gets home." Just then the phone rings but before I can jump up to answer, it stops. Quickly we go out to the one in the front hall and Tyler's on it. "Daddy! It's Daddy!" he tells me, excitedly. I try to hide the fact that I've been crying and attempt a very shaky smile. My all too perceptive son notices and frowns. "Daddy, have you been bad?" he asks. I don't know what Russell tells him but deduce he's asked him why, because Tyler then says, "'Cause Mama's upset." He listens for a moment. "She's right here." He hands me the phone. "He wants to talk to you."

"I want to talk!" Lily's there, too, making this extremely difficult. Just then, Alex and Jocelyn arrive, making things even more complicated. "You can talk to him a bit later," I tell her. Mum and Dad immediately go into gear, taking the babies from me and from David and gently herding the other two away. "Don't forget!" Lil calls back. David squeezes my shoulder and then I'm left alone.

"Lissy." Russell's tone is quiet and wary.

"Are..." I'm beginning to tear up again and have to start over because my voice is threatening to give out. "Are you all right?" I try leaning against the wall for support but my legs still won't hold me up so I crunch down on the floor next to the phone instead.

"They didn't mistreat me if that's what you're asking." I know he's hurting but trying to put on a brave show of things for my sake. I can hear all too clearly the pain in his voice. "What do you know?"

"Why don't you tell me what happened," I counter softly, "and then I'll tell you what I've been hearing." 

As he hesitantly, quietly relates the events leading up to this moment, I find tears coming and rolling freely down my face again. He has a temper and I know it's flared up at inopportune times in the past, but never has it gone to this extreme where he's treated as a common criminal. I'm scared of what could happen from here and heartbroken that he was compelled to do this. I can't excuse his behavior but I understand his frustration and his need to be able to reach us here, so far away, and it's caught me between a rock and a hard place. More than anything, I love him and support him, just as always, but I also have to fight the urge to beg him to tell me why. Why now, when things have been so good and so stable. This is like it was before, when we were having all the problems, and I can't understand what would have motivated him to lash out in such a fashion. But David's right, now's not the time for anger, we need to work this out and face things more in depth once he comes home.

"I couldn't deal with it, Lissy," he's telling me.

"I love you," I say helplessly because I can't think of anything more to say just now, anything else that would ease the suffering of either of us.

"I love you, too," he says. "I'm sorry. Please, understand that. I'm sorry." 

I nod, realize he can't see me, and whisper, "Yes." Then, "I'm coming right now, to be with you."

"No. You need to stay there." His voice is husky and I wish I could see his face so I could tell where he was at, emotionally. I can only guess and it both frightens me and breaks my heart all over again. "For the kids." Then, "Can you try to hold off telling them much unless you have to, until I can talk to them?"

I nod again, then dumbly reply, "Yes." Then, "When will you be home?"

"I'm going to stay here and handle the commitments, Liss." He sighs, sounding so tired. "People are expecting either another public scene or they're thinking I'm going to come back home and hide. I can't do that. I've done something completely wrong and I've got to face that."

"In public??" But damn, I admire his courage. 

"Sweetheart...what would that say to Lil and Tyler if I didn't? The last thing I want is for them to be disappointed in me." Softer, he adds, "I don't want you to be disappointed in me, but I've probably already fucking failed at that."

"No." Now there's a steely resolve in me that's come out of nowhere, the same resolve that made me leave him when he was threatening to self-destruct, that made me stay when our world was falling apart after the miscarriage. This resolve is not going to let him defeat himself. "I love you, damn it. And we're going to work this out. Just hurry and come home."

"I'll call you later," he promises. "Tell Lil I'll talk to her then, okay?" After a slight pause, he adds, "I love you so much." 

He hangs up first which is something he hasn't done since he left me and went to Texas all those years ago when he was in so much pain. I know it's his way of coping, of not wanting to break down in front of me so I understand. This is when my resolve finally crumbles and I bury my face in my hands and let it all out in a cleansing cry.

I feel someone touch my shoulder and worry when I raise my head to see it's my small daughter. Lily's kneeling on the floor beside me with this intense look of concern on her sweet face. "Mama? Is Daddy okay?"

I nod and attempt to compose myself. I didn't want her to catch me this way. "What's wrong, Mum?" Her voice quavers and I have to reassure her. "Daddy's fine, but he's having a hard time being without us and that makes me sad."

"But he's gonna come home real soon, right?" 

I nod again. "Soon." I take her into my arms and hold her. "I'm sorry I'm crying, but I promise, once he gets home, it'll all be fine, sweetie." 

"I wanted to talk to him." She's a little bit upset at that.

"I know. He had to go, but he wanted me to tell you he loves you, and he'll call you later, he promised." 

She snuggles against me. "He must be very lonely, huh?"

"Yeah." I hug her close. "He's so lonely." And I don't know what to do about that.

It's very difficult to act normal for the sake of the kids, when I feel the whole world's been shaken down to the core. 

Luckily, we're here, instead of Sydney, where I feel we're better equipped to protect them and shield them from most of what's going on. If we were in the city, reporters and photographers would already be camped outside our property and we'd all be virtual prisoners in our own home. At least here, we have a great deal more freedom. The farm is vast but very secure and at least I don't have the additional worry of our privacy being invaded.

Lily's accepting of my being sad because of Russell missing us and being lonely. It's a perfectly reasonable explanation to her. If she were in school, I'd be very concerned about someone making comments to her; I imagine that's going to happen anyway eventually once she starts, but I'm grateful that's also something I needn't contend with now, either. I know I have to let my children be their own little people, but other kids can be outspoken and cruel, and I wouldn't want them to suffer because of anything Russell or I do, or have done in the past. Although she and Tyler are both bright, smart, sensitive and sensible children and I think they'll handle themselves well throughout life.

I'd probably be able to cope better if my husband was here. There's a double-edged irony in this: if he WAS here, I remind myself again, if he'd never left at all, we wouldn't have this unfortunate mess to deal with; and once he DOES return, he'll bring with him a new series of issues to handle. Between me and him, him and the kids, him and the world.

The hotel worker, from what Russell told me and from what other broken bits of information I've been able to glean, wasn't even seriously hurt. Since the phone wasn't directed at him (and an angry part of me says Russell certainly wouldn't have missed if it was) he only got a minor injury, a scrape, really. But I'm sure he recognized an opportunity when he saw one, and is taking full advantage of it now. We don't know what is going to happen, and it's that unknown that truly terrifies me.

Jocelyn and Alex are upset, too, I can tell, but none of us try to show it as we try to make things stay as normal as possible for the kids. David's stayed to offer assistance and support, and I'm so grateful to have all of them.

Mum finally catches me alone in the kitchen. "You need to stay strong for the children," she tells me. "And we'll stay strong for you."

Her kind words overwhelm me. "But who will be strong for Russell?" I whisper. I think of what I saw and what he told me, images of him in handcuffs and all alone in a jail cell. Alone, and so far away.

We hold each other and have another good cry.

My mother, sister and brother all phone from the States to make sure we're okay. Along with the Crowes, we've all become a close-knit, extended family, and while they all agree with my husband that the best thing right now is for me to stay put, all of them in turn offer to go to New York and give Russell assistance, which deeply touches me and makes me extremely appreciative of their generosity. When we separated, early on in our marriage, and then when he left me for a time when we lost our first baby, my own family rallied around me and weren't feeling too benevolent towards him, so their support and concern for his well-being is meaningful now.

Russell calls faithfully every day, talking mostly to me and the older kids, also to his parents, but by a sort of instinctual unspoken agreement, we don't talk much about 'the incident' as it's becoming known to us. It's something we need to talk about face-to-face, and we both realize this, so for now our conversations are about mundane couples/parenting things.

Almost as soon as this story breaks, the rumors begin. Besides the damned footage of Russell in handcuffs being played over and over, something we're trying desperately to keep Lil and Tyler from getting a glimpse of, there's the glaring headlines in the papers and magazines, along with still photos of him being arrested we're also trying to avoid them seeing:

Crowe in Cuffs!

Russell Faces Jail Time While Heartbroken Wife Pleads, "Please Come Home!" (there's some actual truth to that one)

The Gladiator Attacks! (oh, PLEASE give me a break!)

Russell's Angry Outburst: WHY? (that is something even I don't know quite yet)

Star Self-Destructs (that one upsets me)

Angry Wife Threatens Crowe with Divorce (that one REALLY upsets me)

The thing that truly bothers me is I know Russell's seeing these headlines, too. From the time we were dating and had to deal with the myriad assortment of half-truths and lies being printed, we've had an understanding between us to ignore most of it. But David's told me he's been keeping watch over what's being said, especially here, just to make sure nothing could potentially legally damage his case should it have to go that far, and also to make sure nothing's being said to harm us. Usually it's all a bunch of rubbish, I know that, as does he, but there's a line not to be crossed with us and it's drawn at our kids. As I mentioned before, we know as parents we aren't going to be able to shelter them from everything, but our goal is to prepare them as much as we can. We've already taught them to ignore the paparazzi (although Tyler loves mocking them by pulling faces) and we're going to have to work at teaching them to ignore stories and rumors. But while the children are all still so young and defenseless, we're their best protection.

I try to stay off of the internet, because experience has taught me it's a real hotbed of rumors and a breeding ground for lies, but people tell me there's a huge groundswell of support online for my husband. The fans are great, he needs all the love and good wishes he can get right now, and I'm thankful for their vocal presence.

When I allow myself to dwell on things, I feel a conflicting overflow of emotions. For how long, I want to know, is Russell going to be forced to atone for this single sin? He's full of remorse, he knows he made a mistake, he's admitted he did it and he was wrong...must the world crucify him for it again and again? I realize that everyone is human and we all make mistakes...Russell's misfortune is that his seem to automatically be magnified a thousand times over and be made in front of the world as a collective whole, and for that, I'm so deeply sorry.

Then, at almost the same time, I want to shake him, smack him senseless. How could he do this? Does he realize how incredibly stupid this was? I'm angry and frustrated, still a bit bewildered, and above all, hurting. Then I realize that I'm becoming one of the same people I so greatly resent, the ones wanting him to pay over and over again, and I feel horrible and guilty.

Most of all, I worry about the fact he's still alone, that we're not truly able to face all of this until he gets home and we can be together. Because whether I want it to be this way or not, I know I'm the one he feels the most responsibility towards. He doesn't want to disappoint me, make me feel he's failed me in any capacity, and I get the feeling that is foremost in his mind. From what family and friends in the US have been telling me, he's brought it up constantly in interviews since this happened, his absolute terror of what I must think or feel about him. I suspect the person hardest on him right now is himself.

I can't express how amazed by and incredibly proud of him I am, that he insisted on honoring every single commitment he'd made prior to 'the incident'. None of us would have blamed him if he'd chosen to cancel, if he'd immediately headed for cover, so to speak, and simply came home to hide. But he's always been a man of exceptional courage and integrity, so I should have known he'd keep his word. I think of what he told me that first time we talked, after everything happened, about giving a positive message for Tyler and Lily, and it warms my heart. Despite what he's done, he's trying to make things right, setting a good example for them.

I've been catching snippets of the interviews he's been doing over there, and he's doing his best to stay positive. He's candidly honest about it all, publicly expressing his remorse and admitting his grave error in judgment. I see the light in his eyes whenever he talks about me and our children. But I also think I'm one of the only people who can read more in him from what I DON'T hear or see on the surface. I can read his underlying tension, glimpse the weariness in his face that cuts through him down to the core. I can see the fear and the sadness in his smile, hear it in his laughter, and it worries me greatly.

One thing that causes me a great deal of heartache and concern is a statement Russell gave to a local paper here, something I've suspected but that he didn't even share with me: that emotionally, he's in a 'dark place' and he's unsure of what to do. I bring the subject up finally the next time we talk. He's due to come home in about three days but I don't personally feel that's soon enough.

"Where's this 'dark place', sweetheart?"

There's a long pause and then he sighs. He knows exactly what I'm talking about. "Lissy, I shouldn't have said that," he says. 

"No, if that's how you're feeling, you definitely should have said that," I tell him. "But what I want to know is, is there room enough there for me?"

Another moment of silence. Then, "You don't want to be there with me, love." 

"I do, if that's where you are." Tenderly, I explain, "Because I don't want you to be there all alone." 

So softly I can barely hear him he confesses, "It's wherever you're not, Liss."

I feel for him, ache for him so badly, if I could reach through the phone and hug him, I would. "Please come home, darling," I beg. "Please." 

"I'll be there soon, I promise." I can readily hear the choking pain in his voice. "Just don't ever give up on me." 

"I won't." He's already hung up again so I don't know if he heard me. I think he did. I hope so, anyway. 

The next day, Lily comes and finds me folding laundry in our room. Tyler and the twins are both down for naps. "What's up, muffin?" I smile at her. "Would you like to go and write a story?" She's been so much into writing lately, well, where she dictates to me and I type things out on the computer for her. It's a fun way for us to spend time together and I love hearing what's on her mind. But I'm not prepared for what's on her mind right now.

"Mama..." she looks frightened of talking to me, something that bothers me to see in her, for we've always had an exceptionally close, open relationship as mother and daughter and I hope she never has to worry about coming to me with anything, "Are you and Daddy getting a 'vorce?"

"What?" I immediately push the clothes to one side, lift her up on our bed, and sit there with her, face-to-face. "What on earth would make you think that, sweetie?"

She looks down at the bedspread and doesn't say anything. Wildly, I try to think back to figure out if there's been a time she's overheard something or, god forbid, despite all our vigilance, seen something about Russell's arrest. I can't think of anything like that, so I cautiously ask, "You DO mean a 'divorce', don't you, Lil? Where two people don't love each other any more and they split up?"

She nods. 

"Why would you get that idea, honey?"

Looking up at me, she explains. "Because you always get upset after you talk to Daddy on the phone. I know he's made you cry. And he's been gone a long time and maybe he's not ever comin' back."

Lily wouldn't understand what that is except some friends of ours recently got divorced and Russell and I had to explain to her what that meant, why her little friend Olivia was going to mostly live in Sydney with her mum but every so often get to see her daddy in Melbourne. And we assured her that would never happen with us but I see so clearly how she would have gotten the wrong impression, with everything that's been going on around her. I sigh.

"Oh, Lil...sweetie, no. No, Daddy and I aren't going to get a divorce. We love each other so, so much and we aren't going to stop. He's coming back in just a couple of days and then we'll all be together again."

"Then why does he make you sad, Mummy?" 

I take a deep breath and let it out very slowly. "I'm sad because I miss him. Because every time I've been talking to him, I miss him more and more. And he misses us, too, and it hurts me because I can't help him with that." God, how I can't help him with that right now. "He's having a really hard time, too, and it upsets me because he's so far away. But I think when he gets here, things will be better. I know it sounds silly, but I've been so sad because I love him so much."

She mulls this over. "Grownups are way weird," she says finally.

Girl, you have no idea. "Yeah, we're a pretty strange bunch," I admit. Then, "So you know everything's okay with me and Daddy and we're not getting a divorce and we're fine, right?"

"Uh huh." She looks thoughtful. "Can we make Daddy some cookies, for when he comes home? His favorite kind? I think he'd really like that." 

"I think he would, too." I hug her and smile at her. This child, this beautiful, blessed child, has always from the start been an absolute godsend for us, and she's continuing to be so now. "Let's go down and do that, while we've got some peace and quiet before the other kids wake up, shall we?"

If life's problems could be solved by favorite cookies, it'd be a fantastic world to live in, I think. Unfortunately, they can't. But anything we can do for Russell can't hurt.

It pains me that Lily would worry so much about us getting divorced, that she's witnessing things being so difficult for me that she would even think that. Knowing that Russell's going to have to explain things to the children when he gets back, I certainly don't want to paint a rosy, glossy, pretty picture of things, but whereas she's already so scared of things going wrong between her dad and myself, I don't want to give her even more cause for concern, either.

Still, as we're making cookies in the kitchen, I find myself confiding little things to my daughter, just enough so she'll understand Russell's possible frame of mind when he gets home. "We're going to have to give Daddy lots of love when he gets here, okay? He's had such a hard time of things lately, and we want to show him how much we love him and how glad we are he's back with us."

"'Cause he's been mighty lonely." She carefully pours the contents of her measuring cup out into the bowl and looks at me for approval.

I nod and hand her a spoon. "And he's been sad...see, Lil, people have been saying mean things about him and it's hurt his feelings. He needs to know that there's a safe place he can be, with us, and it will be all right."

She frowns. She's very protective of us, and I can tell this isn't setting well with her. "What kind of mean things?"

I hope I'm not taking this too far. "Well, grownup mean things. You know how we told you once that sometimes, people make things up that aren't true, just to hurt other people's feelings?"

"And they do to Dad, 'cause he's famous." She still doesn't fully grasp the entirety of the concept, but she understands it has to do with his making movies and why people want to take his picture and things like that. "Yeah." I help her mix up the dough. "And you know, we just have to wait for it all to go away, which it will, but right now, it's been hard on Daddy, because it's made him feel bad that other people think he's a bad person."

"But he's not!" Lily's outraged. I gently shush her and kiss her on the forehead. "Of course, he's not. When he gets home, though...I don't want you or Tyler to ask him about it, all right? What I would like the two of you to do, however, is just be yourselves and show him a lot of love and make him feel happy again, okay?"

"He's a good Daddy." I don't think Russell need worry about the children, because they love him so much and they're solidly in his corner; both Lil and Tyler are his greatest champions. "Yes, we love him unconditionally, don't we?"

"What's that mean, Mum?" She wrinkles her nose at my big word.

"That means we love him no matter what." 

"Forever and ever!" She likes that and tries the word on for size. "Un-cun-dish-nally?"

"Yep." Then I have an idea. "Lily, what you could do for your Dad is write a story that's just about him. Tell all of the nice and special times and things he's done with you and for you, and then when he comes home, you can give it to him with your cookies. Sound good?"

"Can we do it now?" I look at her, flour sprinkled on her clothes and on her face, and laugh. "Not this instant, but while the cookies are baking, we'll go to my computer room and you can tell me all the things you'd like to say, and we'll type it out for him."

"Hooray!" She feels good she's doing something for Russell. I know it will help, but wish again the solution could be so simple.

We settle in front of the computer, and Lily solemnly begins to talk while I type out everything she says. I'm touched by how very much she loves her father, what she's noticed over the years about us and remembered, and the simplicity of the things that matter most to her about time spent or activities she's done with him:

My Daddy
by Liliana Jade Crowe, age 5

Lately my dad has been feeling kinda sad but not because of us of course. My mama said that it is a grownup thing and has to do with his being famous. When I asked her why she said that people were being mean to him and saying bad things and that even though Daddy is used to it, it has still hurt his feelings. I don't think I could be used to people being mean. Ever ever ever. My mama seemed sad too even though when my dad is around us he is happy. But she said there is nothing much we can do about it except wait for it to go away.

If I was all grown up already I would do something about it right now! That makes me real mad. But since I am just a kid Mum says maybe what I can do is tell you another story all about my dad. Then you will know what a special good person he is and why we should love him. She said if anything at all I can give it to him and it will make him feel better. So here goes.

I can't remember when I was a tiny baby just what Mum tells me. But she says that when they were waiting for me to be born my daddy would talk to me all the time when I was in Mama's tummy. And he would play with me. He would try to make me kick. Some people think that babies can't hear you when they are in the mum's belly but my mum and dad and all of us always do. I sort of remember when Mum had Tyler in her belly and we would talk to him and also all of us with Emily and Jaden. I think if my dad didn't love me so much he would have just waited for me to come out. But Mum says he was so excited that he talked and played with me before. He loves me lots and I love him.

When I was real little tiny I got sick, my dad was making a movie. My mum says they were scared and thought I might die. They spent so much time at the hospital wanting me to get better. I'm glad I don't 'member that because that sounds scary. She told me Daddy wouldn't go to work until I got all well. I reckon if he didn't love me so much he wouldn't have stayed with me all the time. So he is a great dad.

I do 'member when Tyler was born and then that is when my Mama got sick. That was scary. She was always sad. No matter what. I think my daddy had to have been scared too but he tried to not be. He took care of me and Tyler baby and my Mum, too. Mama tried not to be sad around me but I would see her and then I would see my dad talk to her and give her hugs and kisses and try to make her feel better. The whole entire time he made sure that I was okay and that Tyler was even though he was just a baby and mostly the mummies take care of the little babies. But my dad did and then when my mum got all better, we went to Hawaii and they had a bunnymoon. That is after you get married when the people go so they can have a cuddle. That is what my dad said it was. My Mum and Dad really got married before I was even born but they wanted to do it again I reckon because it was a lot of fun. And they said this time me n' Tyler could watch (the wedding, not the bunnymoon. That is a grownup thing.) . So see if my dad didn't love my mom so much they would not have had a bunnymoon.

One time when my Mum was sick he didn't know this but I saw him cry. He put her to bed and then when I peeked out of my room I saw him standing there in the hall and he was crying. I would've said something to see if he was okay but I don't think he wanted anyone to know. My daddy is very brave and strong so it was kind of scary but I guess even daddies have to cry if they are sad or scared sometimes. Then he came to check on me n' Tyler and he acted all right so I pretended it was too even though I was still sort of scared. Because I knew my dad would take care of us and make everything better.

Now my Mum is crying writing this down for me because she didn't know that. But it's those tears she cries when she loves my dad so much. 

I know he was scared again when Jaden and Emily made Mama sick. They didn't mean to but they did. I bet he cried then too but I didn't see it. He still took care of us though when Mum was in hospital. And then when she came back and she had to stay lied down so the babies wouldn't come out early he took care of her too. That is a lot of taking care of a lot of people a lot of the time but he did a real fine job.

Telling you about my daddy I bet you think I would say all these things because he is my dad. But even if he was not I would still love him because he is very nice. But I am glad he is my daddy.

Besides the sad times he does all sorts of things when we are happy. Like he tickles me and makes me laugh and then at night he cuddles with me just before I go to sleep. He tells stories and he is teaching me to ride horses. He says prayers with me before I get all tucked into bed where we talk to God. I like that.

Mama says we love Daddy uncondishunly and that is the best kind of love. That means that we love him no matter what. 

I could tell you lots more about him but those are the biggest things I wanted to say. 

I love you, Daddy.

Love,
Lily Crowe 

I know this is going to deeply move Russell, since it has touched me. When she talked about witnessing him crying, when I was suffering from depression after having Tyler, I never knew that. It amazes me that she saw and realized what he was going through, that even though she was small and probably terrified, she trusted in him to see us through it all and make it better. And the part about our 'bunnymoon' makes me smile.

I also know that Russell fears disappointing them, and me, but when he reads this I hope he understands that we DO love him unconditionally and we treasure him for the man he is. Lily and Tyler have so much faith in their dad, and even though they both adore him I think they both also see that he isn't perfect. Hearing Lil talk about his worry and his sadness those other times makes me seriously suspect she'll be one of the strongest ones for him when he gets here. She's been the strongest one for me while her Daddy's been away.

The children know their dad's on his way, because they talked to him, and I think even the twins sense something's up, because they're both really bubbly and energetic as well. I'm glad I stopped nursing them before Russell left, since it would have been too hard and so much has been taken out of me in the last little while anyway. I've tried to push worry over my husband kind of out of my mind while I've given my all to concentrating on the kids. Mum and Dad have been helping immensely and I don't know what I'd do without them nearby. Now that Russell's soon to be home, though, the problems and fears I tucked aside are surfacing again and I'm pulled in all these different directions. Still, I'm going to be glad to have him here, so we can support each other and begin to deal with this together, as we should.

He said he was probably going to get in late; wasn't even going to stay in Sydney but come straight here to the farm. Knowing the kids would clamor to stay awake; I didn't say anything to them but bathed them and put them to bed as usual. It'll be a big welcome surprise and a treat for them in the morning to wake up and find their dad home. Jocelyn and Alex have told me not to worry about them; they plan to come over early to be there when the kids waken so we can sleep in and have a tiny bit of time to ourselves. Not a bunnymoon, but something I think might do us some good.

It's very late, just past midnight, when I hear sounds downstairs and know Russell's come home. 

In my mind's eye I can picture exactly what he's doing, leaving most of his things there inside the door, securing the house back up for the night, quietly going from room to room making sure everything's okay. Pausing to greet Max, who I'm sure left his usual position just outside the children's rooms to go see him. Softly coming up the stairs and directly to me...

The bedroom door pushes open and there he is. Almost before he's completely through the door I'm on my feet and into his arms. He feels so good and I unashamedly press myself close to him, trying to absorb all his warmth. I can see how exhausted, how weary down to the bone he is. It's there in his face, especially in his eyes. But when he looks at me his expression lights up and even though I can still catch glimpses of tension, of worry and fatigue, I can also see how happy he is to finally be here, with us.

"I love you," I tell him, wanting him to know that at least here, he's in a safe haven, that no one will judge or criticize him, least of all me. That I accept him, just as I always have, that I will always love him. That we will weather this together, just as we always have. He nods and then he's taking my mouth with his, long and deep and sweet, as I give myself up to the beauty of it, welcoming him in, tasting his need and his hunger, his fear and his desperation. His arms are tight around me, holding me snug, as I cup his face in between my hands, simply wanting to touch him, simply wanting to love him.

"Lissy, I..." I stop him, running kisses along his jaw, pushing my face against his neck, breathing him in. He smells all good, masculine and strong, that scent that's undeniably his. "Shh. We'll talk tomorrow. Right now, you're tired and you need to come to bed." I stroke his hair. "You need some sleep, honey."

"I need a shower." 

"You're fine." 

"No," he kisses the top of my head, "I'm not coming to you like this."

"All right." I look at him and smile. "At least go see the kids first, though." 

I would let him go by himself, to reunite with them in privacy, but he automatically reaches for my hand, entwining his fingers with mine. I understand his need to keep me close, so the two of us walk down the darkened corridor in content silence. Max curls up in his big dog bed at one end of the hall, feeling that everything is now as it should be.

We enter Lily's room first. There's just enough illumination from her butterfly nightlight for the two of us to see her, tucked on her side, curled up clutching her worn brown bear she's had since she was born. Her long, dark hair is spread out across her pillow, and she looks like a small sleeping angel.

I stand there quietly watching over her while Russell carefully sits on the edge of her bed. He just spends a long moment gazing at her and I wonder what he's thinking. Then, tenderly, he brushes her hair back and leans over to kiss her goodnight.

Lil stirs and sleepily opens her eyes. "Daddy," she murmurs, a tiny smile on her face, and then she's back fast asleep. 

Tyler's bed looks like his whirlwind little personality hit it full force. All of his stuffed animals have been bumped onto the floor, and the bedcovers are kicked off of him in a twisted mass at the foot of it. He's sleeping in the direct center, with his arms and legs flung out on either side of him. Both of us chuckle at the sight.

"Typical Tyler." I think especially now, Russell's missed his son's ebullient boisterousness. Methodically, he tucks him back under the covers, kissing him much as he did Lily, and almost immediately Tyler throws the blankets off himself again, still soundly sleeping. Shaking our heads in fond exasperation, we let him be and go to peek in on the twins.

Jaden and Emily are just as I'd left them earlier, cuddled into each other in their shared crib. We both stand there watching them sleep, something neither of us has ever tired of since we first brought them home from the hospital.

He's the most silent watching the babies. I know, in reference to the two older children, he's somewhat dreading speaking to them about what's happened, he's ashamed and still somewhat confused, but at least with them he can explain. The twins are too young to understand, and while in some respects, that's a blessing, I think it has the potential to haunt him. I think, too, he's considering what might happen to him, and how that would affect his growing relationship with Emmy and Jaden, something I would prefer not to think about but which we might have to face.

I don't want him to face his demons alone. I've seen the devastation it causes to him, and to both of us. Besides, right now he very badly needs my support, mine and the children's, and, more than anything else, we need to be united in this as a family.

I sense he feels horribly alone, despite the fact he's finally home where he belongs, surrounded by all of us and our love, and the only way I know to defeat that is through loving him even more. So I slip my arms around him and hold him.

"Come to bed, sweetheart," I coax, and we leave the peacefully sleeping babies and go back to our room. 

He leaves me long enough to take a hurried shower. I lie there listening to the familiar sounds in the bathroom, relieved that I won't have to sleep alone anymore, but hot tears come into my eyes as I think of the way he looked when I first saw him tonight, dark shadows under his eyes and worse, the dark shadows in his heart. He feels emotionally drained, battered, beaten, and despite the fear I have of what might be to come, my greatest fear is losing him as I did before, when he was physically here with me but his spirit was somewhere else, somewhere he wouldn't allow me to go. I don't want him to shut me out, don't want him to feel he's disappointed me or the kids or let us down in any way.

I compose myself as I hear him come out and then turn over to face him as he slides under the covers beside me and immediately takes me back into his arms.

"I love you, Lissy." I know there's so much we need to talk about but that can wait. I lift my face to his for a kiss. "I love you," I whisper. I burrow so close to him that if I could crawl inside of him, I would. Just like always, our bodies contour to one another, and soon he's asleep. I lie there in his embrace, feeling the comfort of his heart beating against me and his breath soft and gentle against my skin. Wishing I could take some of his suffering from him but willing to help him face the storm. He won't be alone.

Actually, even though both of us are troubled, it's the best night of sleep I've had since he left, and I'm sure it is for him, too. There's something soothing in knowing he's there beside me, warm and solid and protective.

When I wake the next morning, I open my eyes to look right into his. I'm always struck whenever I look at him by the beauty of his eyes. They're this unusual mixture of blue and green, with hints of gray thrown in, and he's got wonderful long lashes, that, fortunately, he passed on to each of our children...they're intense, and stunning, and I could get lost in their depths forever. "Whatcha doing?" I whisper, teasingly.

He reaches out and brushes my hair back from my cheek. "Watching you sleep." 

"Hmm, that doesn't sound too exciting." I run my fingertip along his jawline, down to his chin, and then kiss him there. He kisses me on the forehead and snuggles me in close. "You looked so beautiful. So peaceful."

"That's 'cause I'm glad you're here." When I look at him this time, we're so close our noses are nearly touching. "I missed you." 

"I've missed you, too." I can tell; I can feel the irrefutable hard proof of that against my belly. Reaching between us, I gently run my hand over him, watch him slowly close his eyes and then open them again to gaze into mine. "I need you, so much," I confess. "Please..."

"The kids..."

"Your parents are here watching over them; they wanted us to sleep in, which," I glance at the clock on our bedside table, "we've done; and they wanted us to have some alone time, which we haven't gotten to yet. So what do you say? How 'bout giving me my bunnymoon?"

He looks puzzled. "What the hell's a bunnymoon?"

I laugh. "I'll explain later." I feel lighthearted and more carefree than I have in weeks. I know there are still problems to be worked out but for now he's all that matters. We're all that matters.

With that sort of lopsided grin he sometimes gets, he says, "I missed the sound of your laughter, Lissy." But for once there isn't that slightly haunted look in his eyes, and for that I'm glad.

"I missed you beside me." Both of us are struggling to rid me of my sleep shirt and panties. I finally give up the fight and let him do it, since he's so intent on getting me naked. His grin grows even wider. "Missed me beside you, or inside you?"

"Mmm, both." I look at him with love shining forth in my face. "Mostly, I just missed you." 

He kisses me, long and slow and deep, making my toes curl. God, I missed that, too. Everything about him. When we're like this, the whole world could come crashing down outside our bedroom door, and I wouldn't even notice, as long as I was in his arms. For the time being, we can forget all of that and concentrate on us, which is a welcome change and more than very pleasant, I can tell you.

Besides the fact that we both need and want each other so desperately right now, this is the essence of us, laid bare, so to speak. There's no need for words, no room for any emotions except the primal ones sweeping through us. No pretenses, no judgment, no doubt or fears. Just us, me and him, in an expression of our love, pure and sweet and simple. It's what he needs and what I want to give to him. I want him to feel that out of everyone, I'm the one he can feel the most secure about, the one person who will never turn my back or walk away from him, because I also know I am the one person he's terrified of that happening with the most.

He lifts me over him so we're touching skin to skin, the entire length of me along the entire length of him. I can still feel him tenderly prodding me and he can feel the wet heat of my body's response to him, but there's no need to rush, no sense of urgency just yet. He cups my face between his hands and simply looks at me, those intense eyes of his searching mine. I'm not sure what he's looking for but there's nothing there except my honest love for him. I couldn't hide anything from him at this point if I wanted to anyhow. I want it all out there between us. This is me, this is who I am, please accept and love me as I am. This is you, who you are; I love you and accept you as you are. I don't want him to feel that he has anything to prove to me, anything left to apologize or atone for. We can deal with all that other crap later but this moment is ours and I want us to share it for what it is.

Russell's watching me with this look of wonder, as if in the heat of our passion he read every last bit of that in my eyes. It's funny, the way we are and the way it's always been, as if we wrote a language all our own and it's just been something unspoken yet automatically understood between the two of us. I suppose after being together for as long as we have and enduring all we have, it's natural, but I truly suspect it's more like something unusual and rare, which makes me cherish it all the more. Then he enfolds me in his arms and holds me close. I think more than anything right now, he merely needs to reassure himself that this is what's real and that I'm not rejecting him. It breaks my heart that he's this low but I snuggle against him and wait for more.

When I lift my head his eyes are closed, so I decide to take the initiative. I rain kisses all over, touching him, stroking him, gentle soft caresses meant to comfort. Then, when he finally opens his eyes again, I smile and offer my mouth to him. Welcome him inside, just as I did in my arms when he came home in the night, just as I plan to welcome him inside of my body. Any way I can, anything to banish his feeling of being alone.

Finally, the something struggling to break free is released within him, and he's as hungry, as yearning as I am. There's nothing held back now, as he greedily takes everything I'm offering to him and gives back equally in return. He slides up in bed until he's upright, me in his lap, slips one hand down to touch me, his fingers slightly rough, rubbing me, opening me for him.

It's not enough but I still find myself writhing against his touch. "Please," I plead with him. "Just...please..." Desperately raising myself over him, our gazes dazedly collide as I take him in, all the way, letting out a gasp and a small sob of pleasure as I do so.

I throw my head back as I ride him, torn between giving myself over to the sensations coursing through me or watching the same reaction in him as well. His mouth is on my breasts now, touching me all over, as if he's trying to commit the feel and taste of me to memory.

Without warning, he abruptly lowers me back, still inside of me, so now I'm lying there towards the foot of the bed and he's over the top of me. I wrap my legs around his hips, determined to hold onto him, in every way possible. Emotionally, physically. Don't ever leave me, I tell him silently with my eyes. Neither of us feels a particular urge to speak aloud, though, as if doing so will risk breaking this sort of bond between us.

This has gone way beyond sex; it's become this forging of this new kind of level of our relationship. As if we had sunk to the lowest low and this is our way of reconnecting with one another. It was like this especially after we had separated before and again when we were trying so desperately to hang onto each other before we separated a second time, when we conceived Lily. And again, after he came back, when I was already pregnant with her...after my depression with Tyler's birth...not that every time we make love it isn't spectacular, but it takes on this whole other dimension when either one of us are troubled. We either take our strength from the one who has it most or we feed off of one another and come out stronger as a collective whole because of it. It's not something we plan; it just works out that way. And I can feel it happening now between us.

I feel the familiar rush of heady pleasure radiating out from me, and come just as he does, clinging to him and riding it out with him. Afterwards, we just lie there, holding each other. His hands are still moving softly, insistently, upon me, but like before when I was doing the same to him, it's soothing rather than stimulating. Then I feel his lips against the side of my face and turn my head to look into his eyes again.

"I love you, Lissy," he tells me. Everything's laid out starkly in his gaze for me to see. It takes a lot of courage to let anyone see you that way, even if I AM his wife.

Once again, I let everything shine forth in mine. I love you and accept you as you are. "I love you," I answer back, and we both feel a well-fought sense of peace overtake us, even if it will only be for a short while.

After that, we get dressed and go to find our children. I think this morning has brought us a new closeness, a new clarity that might not have been there before. I know our problems are still there, much as we would like them to, they aren't going to go away simply by ignoring them. But for now, my primary goal is to saturate my husband with so much love he'll know he's not alone.

We're holding hands as we approach the kitchen; I think we're both feeling like newlyweds on that 'bunnymoon' Lily's always talking about. I can hear her and Tyler chattering eagerly, Mum and Dad responding, and even the small sounds of the babies. Russell squeezes my hand, and when I glance at him, I can see him visibly relax even more at the knowledge he's surrounded by our family, safe in our home.

We stand there unnoticed in the doorway for a moment, until he says in his unmistakable deep voice, "What does a bloke have to do to get a hug 'round here?"

"Daddy! Daddy's home!" Tyler and Lil spring up from the table and fly into his arms, showering him with hugs and kisses. Jaden happily pounds his fists on the tray of his highchair, and Emily smiles and coos, reaching her arms out to be held. With the older two still clinging to him like a pair of rabid monkeys, Russell comes over to greet the twins. Then his parents, and finally he's able to take a seat, his arms and lap filled with eager, overjoyed children.

"I MISSED you, Daddy!" Lily hugs him and burrows against him in complete adoration.

"Me, too!" Tyler's not one to be left out.

"I missed you more," Daddy tells them both. He's got a baby in each arm, Lily and Tyler seemingly permanently adhered to either side of him, and as Mum sets a full, hot plate of food in front of me and then him, she drops a kiss atop his head, something she probably hasn't done since he was small.

He looks over at me and I see nothing but pure contentment in his expression, something that eases my heart a great deal. "Welcome home, honey," I say quietly.

It's incredible how the mood of the household has changed literally overnight. Not that we were unhappy, but besides my continuing barrage of emotions, I think all four of the kids had some adjusting to do to their daddy's absence. Now that he's back, they feel more secure and can definitely feel his love for them.

I'm glad Emily and Jaden had no problems reacquainting themselves with him. They're at that age where they're beginning to get a little clingy and since he was gone for awhile, I was worried they'd have a difficult time warming back up to him once he returned. But they remembered, and were just as eager as the other two to greet him.

I haven't pushed him yet to talk about what happened in New York. I know he will, but want it to be in his own time and his own terms and sense that what he needs for now is merely to be with us, to know that we still love him. Un-cun-dish-nally, as Lily says.

She gives him her cookies and her story, proudly, and he reads it while she is there. It means the world to him, I can tell. With the children, it's always been the small things that mean the most to them. Just being with him, spending time with him and sharing tiny wonderful moments are what matters to them. He's stored it away with some of his prized belongings, and then, we've had a bunnymoon every night since he's been back, so I think he knows fully what that is now.  A bit more for us than 'people going to have a cuddle' as Lily so succinctly put it. She's got a way of expressing herself, that child, that is both amusing and honest at once.

With Russell home, it's easier to insulate myself and also keep the children safe from the perils of the rest of the world. Still, the rumors persist and some days when I hear what's being said, much as I try to avoid it, it's all I can do not to run screaming and pulling my hair out at the blatant lies swirling around out there. I'm telling you, I can pretty much see what would drive my husband to chuck a telephone.

The worst rumor is one that I've heard that since he obviously has a temper and was fired up enough to do something like that is what he must be like around me and the kids. In other words, stopping just short of coming right out and accusing him of anything more, because these assholes (pardon me but it's the only term I can think of that's appropriate) are savvy enough to avoid a defamation lawsuit, they're intimating he's physically abusive. I know he must have heard this too, as does he me, but we don't speak of it. It's like he says, we've always both known what the truth is, and this is far from it. Russell has never laid a hand on any of us in anger, and in reality, would probably lay down his own life for mine, Lily's, Tyler's, Emily's or Jaden's, not to mention his own mum, dad and brother. He's never even come close. Never once have I been threatened physically, mentally, emotionally, etc. by this man. We've had fights, as any normal couple would do, said things to each other in the heat of the moment that probably weren't kind, but he's never touched me with anything except gentleness and love. I look at him, holding our babies, and I wonder yet again why anyone would think there was any credence to such lies.

I long as I've always done to share the weight of the world with him, to help him shoulder the burdens of all of this, but watching him over the short time he's been home, I suspect what he's done is merely cast it aside for the time being. When he has to don it again, if he has to return to America for a trial or whatever is down the line, I'll be there.

I've become painted in the press as Russell's long-suffering wife, and while I haven't suffered anything except labor pains with four children and the occasional bout of heartache that, more often than not, he's shared with me over something or another, I reluctantly, I suppose, accept that label, because anything I could say or do wouldn't really matter. Not when there are people out there choosing to believe what they read in a supermarket scandal sheet. It's better than what he's being labeled as, and once again, I'm profoundly sorry for him and wish there was more I could do.