Now that we know Lily's fine, my next goal is to see Russell through the court appearance. The next morning, we get up bright and early and get ready to go.

He's dressed sedately in a dark suit and tie; I chose to wear the same gray pantsuit I wore on the Aussie Today program. I remember how much he supported me through that one, and remind myself it's my turn for him now. As before, my jewelry is minimal, my hair and makeup very simple. We've been warned there will be media awaiting us outside the courthouse, so both of us have on sunglasses and are trying to remain as low-key as we possibly can.

I've been with Russell to the Oscars, and to various other premieres and official functions, but neither one of us are prepared for the frenzy that's there. There has to be at least two dozen cameras or more, photographers and reporters jockeying for position as we pull up.

Taking my hand in his, he threads his fingers firmly through mine. "It'll be okay," he reassures. "Just don't stop, and don't let go of me, no matter what. I'm right beside you; they're not allowed inside. Stay right with me and DON'T LET GO."

I nod. The door opens and Mark goes out first, pushing people back and trying to give us enough space to get out. There are a bunch of policemen there, too, to maintain order. Flashbulbs go off until I'm practically blinded; I feel Russell gently tug my hand and then I'm stepping out of the car behind him.

He waits long enough to make sure I'm out and I'm securely by his side, his hand tightly gripping mine, and then we head off. A couple of times, we literally have to shove our way through the crush; and I'm nearly hit by reporters shoving microphones at us to get a comment, but neither of us say anything or slow down. At one point, Russell gets almost behind me to propel me forward, sheltering me with his own body, but never once do we let go of one another per the pact we made in the car.

We get inside the courthouse and I'm trembling; I have to lean against him for a moment for support. Both he and Mark are watching me with concern. "You did good, love, really good," he says. He squeezes my hand and kisses me on the temple. I'm sure he wants to do more; in fact, I only want to cling to him like a baby for awhile, but with the press of people right outside, PDAs are not a good idea right now. "Let's go get this over with," he says in a low voice, and we proceed, me still glued to his side.

We go through security and then meet up with Russell's attorney; he briefly goes over what will go on. The charges are to be laid out, they're going to ask him how he pleads, whereupon the judge will pass sentence and we hopefully will end this painful saga. More than likely, we're told, he will have to pay a fine and probably have probation. Then we go into court.

I wish I could tell you in detail what happened there but it's as if once I stepped in there, I entered the Twilight Zone. I remember sitting there directly behind my husband, watching the procedure go on like I was watching a nightmarish episode of Law and Order. I remember staring at his back, as he stands there, straight and proud, and hearing him admit he was guilty. I remember trying not to cry at that. I remember then the judge passing sentence of a small fine and a year's worth of probation, after which if he stays out of trouble, the charge will be taken off and it will be like it never happened. He can't change the fact that it did, of course, but this will be the next best thing. And then the whole court is dismissed and it's finally, finally over.

We do allow ourselves a hug and a kiss after that, before leaving. I think later on there will be more but for right now, it's fine. He doesn't want to address the media, so it's right back through the crush for us and diving back into the car, which takes us directly back to the hotel. I don't think either of us has the capacity for anything more than just being alone with one another right now.

When we're finally by ourselves, I sink down onto the couch in our suite with a sigh, kick off my shoes, tucking my legs under me. There are so many things I want to say, yet all of them seem trite, inadequate. How CAN you put into words your gratitude at finally having control of your life again? Your relief at having your husband safe and sound and in one piece?

He interprets my silence as something else altogether, for he cautiously sits beside me, watching me warily. "I'm sorry."

I look at him, startled. "What on earth for?"

"You know. For putting you through this hell in the first place, for the fucking circus down at the courthouse...for worrying you and upsetting you and the kids."

I smile, ruefully. "Well, I've done my fair share of worrying and upsetting you, and I've probably put you through hell a time or two, so let's call it even, okay?"

"Lissy, I'm serious."

"So am I. I've said it before, and I'll say it again...not once have I regretted a single moment with you. Wondered why in the hell it was happening, at the time, perhaps, but it's always turned out right and so I don't know if I'd change anything at all...if you were truly that tough to take, you know, I'd have left your sorry ass a long time ago, so don't be apologizing for the life you've given me, all right?" I poke him and he pokes me back, and soon we're kind of wrestling there on the sofa. It ends up with me on his lap, in his arms. "I'm utterly serious, Russell," I repeat, for emphasis.

"I know you are." 

"Right then, just so you understand, I'm in this for the long haul," I warn.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," he says.

We're just fine and I know we can finally fully put all of this crazy mess behind us.

We're able to phone home later on, when we know it's a good time for the family to be hearing from us. 

We talk to Russell's parents first, who've already heard the news but refrained from telling Tyler and Lily until we could. They come on and I can hear Emily and Jaden in the background; apparently they're all waiting to hear from us.

"Everything's okay," Russ tells them, and they cheer. "The twins are even clappin'," Tyler says. "You're not goin' to jail?"

"Nope." 

"Did you tell the judge you were sorry?" This is very important to our son.

"Yes, I did," his father tells him. 

"See, I KNEW if you were nice 'bout it, he'd say it was okay," Lily pipes up.

"Still, I had to say I did it," Russell explains. "Because it's the right thing to do. And it doesn't mean I got away with it...I had to pay some money and I have to be good for awhile, or else I WILL go to jail. But if I'm good, things will stay all right."

"You'll be good, Dad, I'll help you," Tyler offers. 

I can picture Lil rolling her eyes at that one. "Daddy can be good without your help, Tyler, he's a grownup. Right?"

"I certainly hope so," Russell sighs. 

"He'll be good," I reassure. "I'll make sure of that." 

"Mama's real good at that," Tyler concedes. "If she calls you by your three names, though, Daddy, look out!" 

We laugh. "Are you comin' home now?" Lily asks. 

Exchanging a look, because we discussed this, I say, "We'll be home soon. But, is it okay if we have a tiny bit of time alone first?"

"To have a cuddle," our daughter is quick to catch on. "It'll make you feel better and happy, so that's fine."

"GO FOR IT!" Tyler yells, and despite ourselves, we laugh even harder. 

"I'm glad you're okay, Daddy," Lil adds. "Have a good time and come home quick." 

After we all disconnect, I picture the children joyfully dancing a jig around. Truth be told, I almost feel like doing that myself.

"Lily's resigned to the fact we're always wanting a cuddle," Russell notes, with some amusement. 

"That's 'cause we are." I smile at him. "You just can't keep your hands off of me."

"No, YOU just can't keep your hands off of ME." I raise an eyebrow. "Someone's quite confident in their own sex appeal," I observe.

"I just know how you are." This makes me laugh. "How you are, too." 

I'm just glad this whole unfortunate mess is behind us, and we can concentrate on our present, and our future, without worrying about it. From here on out, it still won't be a constant bed of roses, but we've proven once again we've got what it takes to stick things out together. "We make a good team," I tell him, and I can see by the look he gives me he knows exactly what I mean.

"You're my best friend, Liss," he tells me. "My best mate, all the way round." 

I feel the same about him. I think about our lives, running parallel to one another for so long, and the moment they intersected, and then, became one. And I wonder how we ever managed, for all those years, not knowing the other. How we coped. Because I can't imagine a life without him in it. But I'm grateful for every twist and turn and every decision I ever made that finally led me to him, each moment between us that leads to the next. I really meant it when I told him a bit ago I don't know if I'd change anything, because everything in our past has brought us to now, which looks pretty damn good.

"You're mine, too," I say, meaning it with every fiber of my being.

That first evening is spent fairly quietly, and we only go to sleep that night in bed, instead of our 'bunnymoon', because we're both exhausted from the emotional impact the day's events had on us. We sleep in late the next morning as well, and we're just sort of hanging out, being lazy and puttering around the hotel suite when the doorbell rings.

I look at him quizzically as I go to answer it. Neither of us are expecting anyone, unless it's Mark, but we pretty much told him he can do what he wants unless we specifically need him, which now that we're out of court, we don't really anticipate.

When I open the door, I'm not prepared for who our visitor is. "Mom?" I say, in disbelief, looking incredulously at my mother, who's standing there beaming at me. I let her in and then I'm flying into her arms; I haven't seen her for a few months, since just after I had the twins. She stayed for about a month or so after they were born, just long enough to celebrate mine and Lily's birthdays and then went home. I miss having her around all the time and am thrilled to see her. "What are you doing here?"

"Russell brought me here." I look at him again, and he's grinning. "Surprise," he says, and then I'm hugging him, too. "Thank you, so much!"

"Thought you'd like to spend some time with her," he says. "I've got a bit of business to take care of this afternoon, and so I called your mum up when we got in and asked if she could fly out and keep you company."

"Just for an afternoon?" I'm amazed, but pleased. 

"Well, I'm staying here, in the hotel, too," she says, "but yes, I'm basically your treat for this afternoon." She and he smile at one another, happy they've pulled one over on me.

"Oh, give me just a minute, I'll be good to go!" I kiss her. Then, belatedly, I kiss Russell, too; he notices and grins all the more. "Have fun, love."

I have the most incredible time with my mother for most of the afternoon. For one thing, New York is a fun, exciting place to explore; and then, as I've mentioned before, I've really missed my mom being with me on a regular basis. I love Jocelyn dearly; she treats me as a true daughter of hers, not just a daughter-in-law, and we do what Russell terms 'girly things' quite a bit, but it's just not quite the same as my own mother, if you know what I mean. 

When we get back and I invite her to dinner with us, she says, "Oh, the last thing you'll want is me hanging around." 

"Don't be silly, Mom. Of course we love having you around." 

She gets a funny look on her face. I get my easily read emotions from her, I'm afraid. "Seriously, darling, don't even worry about me tonight."

"Mother, what do you know that I don't?"

"I know that you have a husband who loves you dearly and is waiting for you. And...I think you should probably get to him right about now." She kisses me; we're at her room, several floors below ours. "Call me in the morning, sweetheart."

I'm left standing there for a moment wondering what just happened here. Is my mother conspiring with my husband even further? It sure looks like it. I get back on the elevator and go up to our suite; wondering what I'm going to find when I get there.

I should have known something was up, because Russell loves surprising me, and if he went to such lengths as to fly my mom in to keep me company, it's got to be a doozy. I'm truly amazed that with all that's been on his mind, he'd still find time to plan and prepare something spectacular for me.

When I enter, the first thing I notice is how dimly lit it is; it's getting close to evening, so there's not a whole lot of natural light left. There's one lamp on low and then, I notice the table is set for two, with fine china and silverware, the place settings adjacent to one another. There's a vase full of fresh cut sterling roses, in that unique shade of silvery lavender that are my favorite, because they're so rare and beautiful. The only light in the dining area is provided by a set of white tapered candles in heavy, ornate silver candlesticks, with soft piano music playing in the background. None of this was here when I left so I wonder briefly what sort of finagling he did to provide all this for me.

He's wearing the same dark suit he wore to court yesterday, minus the tie. In my jeans, casual jacket and blouse, I feel strangely underdressed. But the look in his eyes is indulgent and tender and I forget momentarily we're guests here. Home, to me, is wherever he is, and right now, if it's in some hotel suite in a city not our own, so be it.

"She timed that just right," he comments, meaning my mom. "I've got everything all ready for you." Taking my hand in his, he barely allows me enough time to set down everything I'm carrying before bringing me into the bathroom.

This room, too, is lit primarily by candlelight, this time big, chunky pillar candles in saucers scattered throughout. I smell the scent of my familiar favorite bath products, what Russell refers to as 'the purple stuff', lavender and vanilla with an undertone of musk and jasmine. It's a bit steamy in here, because he's run a hot bubble bath for me. "Relax a bit, Liss, and then dinner will be ready," he tells me, kissing me lightly.

"Don't you want to join me?" He looks tempted but regretful. 

"Enjoy your bath, love, if I join you, it'll be all over from here, and I've got some other stuff planned," he says, and then leaves me to it, closing the door behind him.

I strip and sink into the water with a sigh of joy. Shopping and sightseeing was exhilarating while it lasted, but tiring. Still, I don't linger as long as I normally would, because I'm curious as to what else is in store for us.

Just when I'm thinking about getting out of the tub, as if he read my mind, the door opens again and Russell's there. He's taken off the jacket, his sleeves rolled slightly up, and without saying a word, he holds out a hand to me, helping me to stand in the deep, sunken tub. I see the desire flare in his eyes as he watches the water run down my bare skin, as he lets his gaze linger ever so slightly on the curves of my body. But he merely holds a towel up, warmed by the heated towel rack, and wraps me up in it, drying me off with care. When he's finished, my body toasty and glowing from his attentions, he reaches for a large bag which I hadn't noticed he brought in with him. He pulls out first, the most exquisite floor length silk nightgown, with lace and thin straps, and then the matching robe, a sheer, frothy creation, both in the same silvery lavender shade as the roses. I'm taken aback at the lengths he's gone to, creating something this special for me. Helping me dress---my body bare beneath, the silk caressing my body with each movement---he leads me out to the common area, settling me down on a footstool, before he undoes my hair from the clip I used to keep it pinned up during my bath. He uses his fingers to comb it out, his hands gentle and careful, and when it's brushed out to his satisfaction; he takes my hand again and leads me to the table. "Are you hungry?"

While I was soaking in my tub, dinner arrived; the most wonderful smells are wafting up from the plates before us. "Yes," I have to admit. 

The food is delicious, and I'm enjoying us just being alone together. I do miss the children, and with them, any meal is usually lively, full of chatter and laughter. This is us simply eating and quietly talking, which is nice too, in its own right. When we spent time before with each other back in Sydney, it was with this almost desperate sort of urgency, as if we needed to cram as much quality time in as possible before we would be ripped apart from one another. Now that the storm has passed, we're able to relax and concentrate on us, which I'm eternally grateful for.

"I can't believe you flew my mother in as a one-day gift for me," I comment. "You don't know just how much that meant to me." 

Russell smiles, reaching over to brush his hand down my cheek. "Yes, I do," he counters. "And she's not just a one-day gift; you're gonna have to share."

Puzzled, I put my fork down and look at him. "What do you mean?"

"With the kids." He looks supremely pleased with himself right about now.

"Share my mom with the kids?" My eyes get wide. "What...?"

"She's agreed to come back with us; stay for a while." He laughs at the overwhelmed joy in my expression. "She misses her grandchildren, and she misses you."

Tears are in my eyes now; I'm so touched at his thoughtfulness. "I don't know what to say." 

"You don't have to say anything, Lissy."

"Yes, I do." I reach for him and kiss him. "Thank you and I love you." I gesture around. "All of it...it's almost too much."

"Nothing's too much or too good for you." We link fingers. "There's more, anyhow."

"More?" I blink. "How could there possibly be more?"

I'm suddenly aware that I'm sitting there clad only in the form fitting, silky gown. By the dark, intense, heated look in his gorgeous eyes, I can tell he's remembered this, too. "You look like a goddess," he comments softly. Then, "Want anything else for supper?"

I shake my head.

His voice getting that husky catch in it, he asks, "Want some dessert?"

Wordlessly, I nod. 

With my fingers still laced with his, he stands, drawing me to my feet. "Good," he says. "I do, too." 

And with that, he brings me into the bedroom.

Sitting me down on the edge of the bed, he says, "Don't move, be right back," and is gone for a brief moment. When he comes back, he's got that silly, almost rueful grin he sometimes gets. "Had to blow out the candles," he explains. "Didn't want to forget and have the New York Fire Department come barging in."

I have to laugh. "I almost forgot, myself."

"Don't want to get convicted of arson next," he jokes, and I'm glad he's able to. Before, he was so defeated, so beaten down, and it broke my heart to witness him that way. "Now, where were we?"

He's looming over me as I sit there. Reaching and tracing the line of his jaw with my fingertip, I helpfully remind, "I think you were about to ravish me."

"Oh, yeah." He lifts me and settles me higher on the bed. "Lay back, sweetheart." 

I took off the robe when he went to take care of the candles so I'm only wearing the gown now. Slowly, I lie down, half-reclining on the pillows at the head of the bed. He comes back down over the top of me, brushing my hair back, watching me. "I pictured you, just like this, while I was getting everything ready earlier," he says to me.

"What else did you picture?" I ask coyly.

He smiles. "I'd rather show you, Lissy, than tell you about it."

Then he takes my mouth with his, slowly and tenderly, with exquisite care. I have to tell you, I have never felt more cherished, more loved, than I do at this moment. Not that Russell doesn't make me feel that way every day of my life, but from the instant I walked in the door, he's pampered me, indulged me to the point I feel like an absolute princess. I have to say, a girl could easily get used to this sort of treatment.

He moves to my neck, the curve of my shoulder; one of the straps of my gown has slid off there, almost baring one breast. Drawing it down, so it's fully uncovered now, he paints the edge of my nipple with his tongue before suckling it gently.

I feel my body's predictable response as he bares the other one and treats it the same way, then he kisses the slope of my belly, through the silk. He leaves me for a moment, only long enough to stand and remove his own clothing, as I lie there and watch him. Then he's back, grasping the hem of my beautiful gown in both fists and pushing it up past my waist, further exposing me to him.

Everything's so mindful and so deliberately paced that I don't feel that wild sense of urgency...yet. He's taking time for every detail, every little nuance of this, and I sense he's trying to make it as perfect as possible, for me.

"Here, let's just get this out of the way." Carefully, he draws the gown completely off me, setting it aside. We just lie there for a moment gazing at one another. I've told you that since he got home after the phone incident, we kind of have been overtly horny for each other, but there was always that sort of uncertain undertone, because neither of us knew what was going to happen to Russell. Now that everything's settled, we can merely enjoy ourselves and indulge in ourselves as much as possible, knowing that we still have a lifetime of love ahead of us. I didn't really think he honestly would go to jail, but the not knowing for sure exactly what was going to happen only reinforced the somewhat underlying despair we had before.

"I love you, Liss." He draws lazy circles on my belly, first with his fingers and then with his mouth, and then lower, opening my legs wider for him and then spreading the outer lips of my sex apart. I don't feel self-conscious at all, because the expression on his face is tender, almost reverent and worshipful. Instead, I lie there and let him have his fill of me. "You're lovely," he says, so softly I almost don't hear him. Then he covers me there, gently nibbling and kissing, and I gasp at how sweetly exquisite it is.

The stubble from his beard rasps the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, but I love it, love him, love everything he does to me and the way he makes me feel. Instinct drives me to raise my hips to him, to cradle his head and hold him down on me. It doesn't take much for me to climax, tiny sobs coming from the back of my throat as I feel it like miniscule bursts of explosions all down my spine radiating from where he is outward.

He rests his head there, low on my abdomen for a moment before coming up and taking my lips with his; I can taste my own self on him. "One of these days, you're gonna pass out," he says, that teasing glint in his eyes.

"What?" I'm a little dreamy and slowly drifting back into myself just now.

"I can always tell when you're about to come." He's grinning; he enjoys bantering back and forth with me; it's something we've always been prone to, especially somehow when we're in bed. "You start making these soft little gasping sounds, and then...just before it happens...you always hold your breath, and I wonder if someday, I'm just going to drive you into unconsciousness."

"I do not!" He laughs. "Yeah, you do."

"Well, I can't help it...if I do, but I don't think so."

"Yeah, your breath always catches and then there's this pause when you stop for a moment altogether."

Now I AM self-conscious. "We've known each other for how long, been like this for what? About ten years? Forever? And you're only just getting around to telling me this?"

"You never asked me."

"Russell, when is that ever going to come up? At the dinner table, with your mum and dad and the kids? Honestly." But I'm smiling at him. 

"Want me to prove it to you?" I'm back aware of the fact that we're both in bed, naked, and oh yes, he WAS about to ravish me. I hold out my arms to him. "Prove away."

I have to tell you, he does prove me wrong and him right. Very, very thoroughly.

We doze after that, and when I wake, it's quite dark. Looking at the clock, I can see that it's fairly late in the evening. Careful not to awaken Russell, I reach over and turn the bedside light on low, just enough to be able to see him.

Usually, we sleep spooned together, out of habit; we just fit together so nicely that way; I love the feeling of being sheltered in his arms, by his body, and he says he loves holding me that way, tucked into him, feeling me close. But, it was born primarily out of necessity. When we first started sleeping together, sharing a bed, it was when I still had my tiny house, where he was filming and we met, and it was the only way the two of us could fit comfortably into my small full-sized bed. Even so, still we tend to gravitate towards one another; it's completely natural and perfectly right.

However, tonight I don't think either of us truly intended to go to sleep, but, pleasantly sated, we did. He's laying there on his back, kind of sprawled out across the mattress, the way Tyler usually sleeps, and I find myself on my side, curled up against him, in a compact little ball, the way Lil often does. It makes me smile at the comparison. Even when I was pregnant with both children, they were the same way, Lily this content, true fetal-positioned baby within me, and Tyler, flexing and stretching, buffeting against me, impatient to get out and see the world.

I'm well aware of Russell's so-called reputation, and the intensity and the sometimes overwhelming aspects of his personality when he's awake, so it always astonishes me and fascinates me to observe him when he's sleeping. He looks so innocent and vulnerable, almost like a little boy. His eyelashes are so long, his features utterly relaxed and composed. Especially now, with the entire incident we came here to take care of behind us; he's lost a lot of the tension I witnessed in him earlier, the edginess that made my heart ache to see in him.

I nuzzle his nipple and he makes this sound I can only describe as a purring sort of rumble before he draws me in closer to him. At times like these I often wonder what he's dreaming about. I assume I figure into this somehow as I watch the corners of his mouth turn up in the barest hint of a smile, still soundly asleep.

My hand inadvertently (I promise) brushes against him and I almost immediately feel him grow hard and erect beneath my palm. Smiling again to myself, I caress him again, deliberately this time, letting my fingers enfold him, measuring the length, savoring the feel of him.

I do this a couple of times, and then his eyes open, gazing into mine. He blinks, once, a little stunned; maybe he figured he was just having a pleasant erotic dream. "Hi," I tell him softly. He kisses me. "Hey." Then, still somewhat drowsily, "Don't stop."

"Oh, no." Sitting up, I swing my leg over both of his, straddling him, feeling him poised there at my core, and then, our gazes locked, I slowly ease down on him, taking him inside of me. My breath catches and I see him smile, remembering his teasing of me earlier. As I move over him, I lean forward, taking his hands in mine and lifting both of his arms over his head, my fingers threaded through his. I love watching him this way, seeing his pleasure cross his face, knowing it's because of me and what I do to him. He's told me often he feels the same towards me when we're like this.

Feeling the need build and grow and spread throughout me, I release his hands and sit back up, moving harder, deeper, faster. He reaches and plays gently with my breasts, then his hands slide down to grasp my hips. I can hear myself making those little gasping sounds he told me about, but I'm unable to stop them; he's making these low growling sounds that I must remember to tell him about later. I feel it overtake me moments before I feel him; my body's still trembling, his still pulsing within me from his release as I ease forward on him again and let him just hold me.

I kiss his chin; he kisses my temple and enfolds me in his arms, us still pleasantly tangled around one another. "Well," he says with his typical understatedness, "that was nice."

I laugh. "Yes, rather." 

He glances over at the clock, and surprises me completely by abruptly sitting up. Startled, I do, too, unsure of what's gone wrong. "We've got to get moving, I told him we'd be there no later than eleven thirty," he says. It's ten thirty now. "Give us just enough time to shower and get dressed," he muses, almost to himself. Then, "Come ON, Lissy."

"What on earth are we getting up and dressed and out for now?" I run a hand through my hair; he practically hauls me out of bed and hustles me towards the bathroom. "And what am I supposed to wear?"

"Whatever's fine. Wear what you had on earlier."

"The nightgown?" I'm still so confused.

He grins. Apparently there's at least one more surprise in store for tonight. "Wouldn't that be something," he comments. "No, what you came home in will do."

"But what...?" He won't tell me anything more as we hastily shower and change. 

Apparently, there's one other person who knows what's going on; Mark's waiting for us in the hotel lobby. We jump into our rented car with him driving, and soon we're off through the New York City streets. I keep pressing Russell for an explanation, but he's characteristically mum on the subject.

New York is fascinating at night. It truly never sleeps. There's nightlife galore; we're just another couple in the busy flow of things. We're both dressed extremely casually in jeans; he in his Souths jersey and me in my Gap tee and denim jacket I wore while out with my mother earlier. So I'm very surprised when the car finally stops in front of an old, beautiful church tucked in amongst the tall skyscrapers on a quiet city block.

As if we were expected (and I suppose from the looks of things, we were), the door is unlocked; we step inside and the almost unassuming exterior certainly hides the lovely interior. It's one of the smaller ones here in the city, but it certainly doesn't lack for its feeling of peace and serenity. The long aisle goes between two sections of mahogany pews up to the front, where candles are lit. I can almost hear a choir singing; I imagine the services here are lovely. At the very front of the church is a magnificent stained glass window with various panes depicting angels and Christ and various scenes from the Bible. Not being particularly religious, but intensely spiritual in my own way, I do appreciate this place for what it is, a place of holiness, a sanctuary of sorts from the outside world just beyond the doors. Mark didn't come in with us and there is no one else there; it's just the two of us.

When I look at my husband, he drops to his knee, right there in the outer vestibule of the church. "Liss, will you marry me?"

I blink. "Seems to me, we've done this before," I say softly. Indeed, twice, once for real and then we renewed our vows when Tyler was just a baby, after I came through the troubles I'd been through after having had him. Habitual though it is, I understand immediately why he wants to do this, especially now. "Yes," I tell him, and he rises and takes my hand, leading me up the aisle to the front.

Almost as if on cue, an elderly priest appears from seemingly out of nowhere. "Mr. Braddock? I'm Father O'Halloran." 

I glance at him with amusement. He neither confirms nor denies this but shakes the man's hand. "My wife," he introduces me, and I solemnly shake his hand as well. If the priest recognizes Russell, he's good at hiding it. New York is a much easier place to be a celebrity than Los Angeles or even Sydney, for us; there's just a greater sheer number of people, so one tends to blend in a little better, and then, there's also so many of them there living and doing things that I guess the citizens don't notice or at least pretend not to care most of the time to have famous people in their midst.

Still I have to think, it's a good thing we're already legally bound to one another, if we're going to renew our vows as Mr. and Mrs. James Braddock. I nudge him, as if to let him know we really can't lie to a priest in the middle of church. "Father..." Russell clears his throat. "We have a confession to make."

With twinkling eyes, he tells both of us, "I don't think you'll both fit into the confessional at the same time." 

I stifle a giggle which I discreetly turn into a small cough. Russell nudges me back. "I gave you a false name, Father. My name's really..."

"I know who you are, Mr. Crowe." Now his eyes are twinkling all the more, and he's smiling at us. "I wasn't sure at first, until I heard you speak, and then I got a good look at you." He explains, "The outside world does come in, once in awhile. We read newspapers, and magazines on occasion, and we do enjoy a good film now and again. Might I say, you did an excellent job in that one?"

Now I really do let out a tiny laugh. He turns his attention to me. "I would be honored to preside over and witness your marriage renewal." 

We turn to face each other and clasp hands. Here, in practically the middle of the night, half a world away from our home, dressed as we are, in front of this priest who happens to be a fan of my husband's work, it just feels so right. I couldn't have imagined a more perfect time or place or way to do it, actually.

"You have just come through a period of adversity," he begins. He really DOES keep up on current events, I think to myself, but then concentrate on what he's telling us. "Both of you have had to endure many trials, many obstacles, to reach this moment. Your love has been tested, and will continue to be tested in the years to come. It is in those times that you must both remember moments like these, the blessed moments, the moments of your greatest joy and your deepest love for each other. It is then that you must hold on to one another, because only with each other will you make it through."

I look at Russell. He's looking at me, and I see the clarity, the utter belief of this reflected in his eyes as well as the knowledge of it within me, because we've lived this for a fact.

"Both of you are strong people," Father O'Halloran continues. "And I can so clearly see and sense the love that you have together, for each other, and for your family. The greatest gift that you can give your children is the continuing endurance of that love; it is the heart and soul of your life with them, as a family unit. They will learn from you, from what they witness within you both, to take with them in their own lives and into the future with their own families. Therefore, it is so important, what you show to them."

I see so much in my husband's eyes. I've always been blatantly naked with my own emotions, that I know he can easily read what's going on with me, but when I look at Russell I can clearly see what he's thinking and feeling as well. It's not that he hides things from me, but he tends to internalize a great deal more than I do so to see everything so raw and open and right there on the surface within him really moves me.

"With that said, I know there's a lot that you want to express to one another." He smiles at me with that teasing glint in his expression. "Mrs...er...Braddock? Would you like to go first?"

Taking a deep breath, I look down at my hands tucked within his, trying to compose myself and organize my thoughts. I definitely don't doubt that Russell knows how I feel about him and what he means to me, as do I with him, but it's one thing to just go through living day to day, secure in that knowledge, and another to put it into words and try to express it aloud.

"I consider it a privilege and an honor, an absolute joy, to be your wife," I tell him, my voice quavering slightly. "When we first met...I could never have foreseen what our life together would become, I could never have known that it would be so full and so rich and so wonderful. I've always said that loving you is an adventure...but an exciting one, and I can't think of a better person to share all of it with. You've always loved and respected me, you've encouraged me and given me room to grow...you've let me be myself, and in doing so you've made me a stronger person." I have to pause for a moment because this is becoming quite overwhelming.

"Thank you for what you've brought to me. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for our beautiful children..." I think of them, back home, waiting for us to return to them. "You've seen me at my worst, and at my best, and your love's never changed, never wavered, through all of it. We've had our ups and downs, and some pretty awful times as well, but I've always known that I love you, and that won't ever change, either. You're my best mate, and I love you."

He is a very strong person, one of the strongest I think I know. But the look on his face right now is one of absolute vulnerability, a look I've seen often since this whole unfortunate series of events unfolded. I think, though, it bespeaks even more of the strength he has within him that he is able to let that go in himself, here in front of me and the priest, who, for all his kindness and such, is still a virtual stranger. It's always frustrated me when I hear people who don't even know him talk about how rough and uncaring he is, because he is one of the most generous people I've ever met. He pours himself out on that movie screen, which in itself is a level of vulnerability. He's playing a part, but it's him there just the same, different nuances and aspects of the 'real' man coming out in a character. At home, too, he gives 100% of who he is to us. And I wish people would realize that.

"Lissy..." Russell has to pause, clear his throat, and start again, but when he does his tone is clear and true, even if only I can detect the tiny waver of emotion. "Liss. You've never once backed away from the pressure cooker I know our lives can be. Sometimes, I'll bet you've thought about it...but you never have. You've always been there, by my side, fighting with and for me, even if at the time I didn't think I wanted you to. And even when I've thought I've disappointed and hurt you..." I shake my head vehemently at him, and he gets a small smile at my absolute stubbornness, "...when I've disappointed and hurt myself, you're always the first to give me support. You give me unconditional love, Lissy, and do you know exactly how rare that is, or has been, for a great deal of my life? From the moment we met, you saw straight through to the heart of me, and while that scared me, I knew it was something precious and special. I have something with you that I've never had, or wanted to have, with anybody else. You've given me four terrific kids, and laughs, and a lot of incredible, amazing happiness. I treasure your friendship, and your love. I love you."

There are tears in both of our eyes, and when we look at the priest he looks moved as well. He then begins the traditional marriage vow part and as we in turn repeat the time-honored familiar words, I feel my heart swell to nearly bursting and know that something very special has just taken place tonight. I truly feel renewed, and that from here on out the two of us can go out there, back into the bustle of the world that's sometimes harsh and even cruel, and we're strengthened and secure within our love, just as the father had told us.

We kiss, there in the semi-darkened church, and just as we do so, I swear, a bright shaft of moonlight falls through the largest stained glass window behind us, showering us with a dazzling array of colors. I take it as God's blessing upon us both. Afterwards, we both thank Father O'Halloran and Russell passes him an envelope; in gratitude I understand we've just made a generous donation to his church. And then, just as quietly as we arrived, we're back out into the city and back on our way to the hotel.

Obviously, the ceremony we initially had to really get married still means the most to me. It was the one 'that counted', and in pledging my love to him there, it began this whole wondrous journey. And, when we renewed with Lily as a toddler and Tyler as a baby, that was very special as well, because it was in front of them, even though I'm not sure how much either of them got out of it at that time. And this time, while a tiny part of me wishes we could have had all four of them here, my mother and Russell's family as well, I'm glad we did it the way we did, with just us declaring our love to one another, simply and without all the flourishes and trappings of the other two times. It was darn near perfect.

We're soon on our way home, with my mom, and all I can think of is the delight on my children's faces when they see her. We forewarned Russell's parents that she was coming back with us, but we haven't told the children we're on our way. We have a very special surprise planned, for Lily in particular, and so we don't want to give ourselves away.

We stop in Sydney just long enough for us to sufficiently recover from our jet lag. While there we call and I'm getting more homesick and nostalgic hearing the kids and knowing that now, they're so close.

"You sound almost like you're right here!" Lily pipes up, astutely, when I talk to her. 

"I wish I was, sweetie." I feel so guilty tricking my daughter, and I know it's all my mom can do not to beg to talk to them right now. "Soon, though, I promise."

Russell talks to her, too, and she assures both of us that school is fine and she is fine and everything's in perfect harmony. Tyler is his usual talkative, cheerful self, and they even put the twins on who mostly just listen or attempt to babble. I so do miss each one of them.

After we hang up, he reassures my mother and me. "We're going home tomorrow."

We planned our arrival so Lily would still be at school. When we pull up, as usual, Tyler's the first one out the door and he first tackles me. I lift him up, astounded, as I lately have been, by how big and heavy he's rapidly getting. If Lily's Daddy's girl, Tyler's decidedly a Mama's boy. Then, eager to see his dad as well, he literally launches himself out of my arms and into Russell's, who catches him just in time. He gives a startled sort of grunt and I remind Tyler to be considerate of Daddy's shoulder, the bad one that's been operated on more than once.

He's not expecting anyone else, so when my mom gets out of the vehicle, he says, quizzically, "Grandma?" followed by a much more exuberant, "GRANDMA!" Before he can then throw himself at my mother, Russell sets him down. "You are NOT jumping on your grandmother, mate." He settles for tackling her round the legs. Jaden and Emily are babbling away; they haven't seen her since soon after they were born but they're assuming from Tyler's reaction she's all right and they want affection, too.

"Where did you find my grandma?" Tyler asks as we go into the house. He makes it sound like we found her hitchhiking on the road between Sydney and the farm.

"As the plane flew over her house, we lowered a big net and scooped her up." Russell loves teasing his son. When Tyler looks fascinated at this idea, he corrects, "We flew her on a plane to New York and then we all came home together."

"Does Lil know?" 

"No, Lily doesn't know. She doesn't even know we're home yet." I explain, "Daddy and I want to go pick her up from school today." 

"She's gonna LOVE that one!" Tyler loves secrets and surprises. 

When it's nearly time for Lil's class to let out, the two of us go alone to the school to fetch her. Jocelyn told us where they usually wait for her; we're standing almost there but just a little ways away, so she'll have to kind of hunt for us.

Class starts letting out because kids literally come pouring out the doors. I begin to get anxious to see my daughter, and can't wait for her to find out the extra added surprise of her grandmother waiting for her back at the house. Russell's got his arms around my waist and I can sense his impatience, too.

Soon, I spot her; she's walking out with a little friend, and then they say goodbye. The other girl skips off in one direction, and Lil's scanning the crowd, trying to find Nana or Papa, who usually comes for her. She's not concerned just yet but I can see her trying to figure out where her ride home is.

I know the moment she spies us. Her gaze drifts past us and then, goes back and locks right on in. The entire expression on her face lights up; even from a distance I can see her eyes widen and her smile grow and spread across her face.

I'm smiling from ear to ear and without looking at Russell I know he is, too. Then she's running, straight at us, and we both wait for her with open arms.