Reflect: to give back an image of; mirror or reproduce

Author’s note:

This story is the final installment of the Through the Fire Trilogy, and is a sequel to “Riptide”. In that story William Regan met Daniel Mangan, the son of his beloved sister, Erin. Meeting his nephew has sucked Regan into a whirlwind of emotions, especially when faced with the possibility of being Dan’s guardian. Our story continues as Regan meets with Judge Armen.

Life as William Regan had known it was over. After years of being alone, he discovered he was not the last of his line. He had a nephew. A nephew that needed him.

Now that he had decided to take in his sister’s son, Regan faced the daunting task of squaring away all the minor details. To his relief, his talk with Matthew Wheeler had gone much better than he had expected. Matt had seemed more than willing to not only allow Dan to stay with Regan, but also to do everything within his power to make the transition easy for the boy. That settled, Regan’s felt less apprehensive about his upcoming meeting with Judge Armen.

Unfortunately, that meeting was not going nearly as well as Regan had hoped. He had expected to be asked to sign a few papers; he hadn’t anticipated taking part in the Spanish Inquisition.

In the judge’s chambers, Regan anxiously wrung his freckled hands as he answered countless questions. A brief pause in the interrogation only made Regan more nervous. He kept his wary gaze focused on the sober-faced court official. Judge Armen sat behind his massive desk, peering over his half-glasses at the documents pertinent to the case.

I wonder if the Supreme Court would consider this relentless questioning as cruel and unusual punishment? Regan pondered. Although he was practically squirming like an antsy five year old, the husky redhead noted the judge’s calm demeanor with irritation. I can’t believe that I’m the basket case, while the guy who literally holds Dan’s fate in his hands is cool as a cucumber. You’d think the state would be grateful I’m willing to take the kid off their hands instead of putting me through all this rigmarole…

“Mr. Regan,” the judge drawled out slowly.

“Yes?” Regan shifted nervously to the edge of his seat, preparing for the worst.

“I see here that you’ve been employed by Matthew Wheeler for the past three years?”

“That’s right, sir.”

Judge Armen looked up from his paperwork, his arched eyebrows expressing his obvious interest. “The Matthew Wheeler of Wheeler Enterprises?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you live in an apartment on Mr. Wheeler’s property in Sleepyside?”

“That’s correct.”

“How does your employer feel about the possibility of you being granted custody of your nephew?”

Regan cleared his throat, hoping he could rid himself of the lump that seemed to have settled itself directly on top of his vocal cords. “Mr. Wheeler has offered me his full support, sir. He promised to do whatever was necessary to help us work things out.”

“Is Mr. Wheeler aware of the risk he’d be undertaking should you be granted custody of Daniel?”

“Mr. Wheeler adopted an orphaned teenage boy this past summer,” Regan pointed out hopefully. “He agrees there’s a risk, but he’s assured me that the blessings outweigh the danger.”

Judge Armen nodded in approval before looking back down at his documents.

Score one for the good guys! Regan thought, enjoying his brief moment of triumph.

“Mr. Regan, I see that you’re single,” Judge Armen remarked. “Am I correct to assume that you currently live alone?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you have no children?”

“Not unless you count the horses I take care of,” Regan joked. He winced as he noticed that his jesting had failed to elicit so much as a smirk from the stern-faced judge.

“Do you have any plans to marry?”

“Not until the right girl comes along.” The corners of Regan’s lips parted in a small smile. “Of course, I don’t see that happening in the near future. I guess my standards are too high.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, particularly once you involve a child.”

Regan was about to put another point in his column until he noticed the judge’s critical expression. “Is it bad that I’m not married?” he queried.

“Well, Mr. Regan, I’ll be honest with you.” Judge Armen temporarily set aside the paperwork and folded his hands on his desk. “The court prefers to grant custody to married couples, but there are some exceptions. We try to carefully determine what’s best for the child, and if a single party would provide the best home, so be it. Likewise, there are several couples out there who would be deemed unfit. It all depends upon the particular circumstances surrounding each case.”

Regan nodded thoughtfully as he mulled this tidbit.

“Frankly, Mr. Regan, I’m more concerned about your age than your marital status,” the judge replied as he removed his glasses. “You are twenty-two, are you not?”

“I am.”

Judge Armen’s forehead creased with consternation. “I find it worrisome that you’re only seven years older than your nephew. Normally, I might overlook this fact; however, since Daniel is currently incarcerated, he’ll require a certain amount of discipline if he’s to stay out of trouble.”

“Judge, I assure you that I’ll break my neck to keep Dan in line,” Regan promised. “I may not have any kids of my own, but I spend a lot of time with Mr. Wheeler’s two, as well as their friends. I do a pretty good job of making the six of them toe the line, if I do say so myself.”

“That may be true, Mr. Regan,” the judge conceded, “but spending a few hours with the neighborhood children and raising one of your own are two entirely different matters.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Regan muttered. Score one for the other guys, he thought miserably.

“However, you’ve brought up another point I must consider.” Judge Armen steepled his fingers in a thoughtful pose. “If I did indeed grant you guardianship of Daniel, will he be in close contact with the teenagers you mentioned?”

Regan shrugged. “Well, Sleepyside is a small town…”

The older man stared at him over his half-glasses. His expectant expression made it clear that he needed a more definitive answer.

Pinned down, Regan gave a sigh of resignation. “Yes, if Dan stays with me, he’ll practically live next-door to several kids.”

“Then it becomes all the more imperative that your nephew behaves himself,” Judge Armen stated. “As you saw when you visited St. Mark’s, there’s no shortage of juvenile delinquents. I would hate for Daniel to join this crowd and corrupt them, should he return to his former habits.”

“He won’t corrupt these kids,” Regan argued in defense of his beloved Bob-Whites. “No, sir! These are some of the finest teenagers I’ve ever met. I could give you a list a mile long of the people they’ve helped. They’re good kids.”

“All the more reason to protect them from a potentially dangerous influence,” the judge pointed out. “After all, one rotten apple can spoil the entire bushel.”

As much as he wanted to contradict the judge’s cynical ideology, Regan decided it would be wise to keep his mouth shut.

“Mr. Regan, are you equipped to handle Daniel should he return to his immoral ways?”

“Well, sir, in all honesty, I can’t say that I am,” Regan admitted. “I don’t rightly know if anyone’s ‘equipped’ to deal with a thing like that. However, I can tell you that if Dan does go back to his old ways, I’ll bend over backwards to straighten him out. I’m not Dr. Spock, but I am an honest, hard-working man who’ll bust his butt to set a good example.”

Regan’s response seemed to please the judge, and for a moment, Regan thought he was out of the woods. Unfortunately, Judge Armen’s next question put him right back in the forest.

“Mr. Regan, I respect how forthcoming you’ve been. Since you’re a man of integrity, can you honestly say that you have enough time to devote to a high-maintenance teenage boy?”

Regan sighed wearily, wishing he didn’t have to answer this particular question. “I’ll give him as much time as I can, sir,” he hedged.

“That’s not what I asked,” the judge said, smiling slightly. “I’ll rephrase. How much time do you spend at work?”

“It depends on how many horses Mr. Wheeler has and how often the kids help me exercise them,” Regan answered somewhat vaguely. “And if one of the horses is sick or about to foal, I might have to spend extra time at the stable.”

“Although I’m not the horseman you are, I know caring for them properly is very time consuming,” Judge Armen said. “I’m guessing you spend at least ten or twelve hours in the stable each day.”

Unable to lie but uneager to make that admission, Regan merely nodded in agreement.

“Mr. Regan, with that schedule, how will you be able to provide for all of your nephew’s needs?”

“Mr. Wheeler already gave me a raise,” Regan told him hopefully. “I’m not rich, but I won’t have any trouble putting food on the table or clothes on his back.”

“Daniel needs more than food and clothes. He has many emotional needs, as well. Are you prepared to deal with those?”

Regan quirked a brow. “What kind of emotional needs?”

“Well,” the judge began, “are you prepared to spend quality time with the boy? He’ll need someone to make sure he goes to school and to help him with his homework. He’s behind on his studies, and if he intends to graduate high school on time, he’ll have to work hard. There’ll also be PTA conferences for you to go to, and social and extracurricular activities that he’ll want to attend. The parents of an average teenager have to be willing to play the part of nursemaid, chef, counselor, chauffeur, event planner, disciplinarian, tutor, etcetera, etcetera.”

Regan grimaced. He hadn’t even considered such things. Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, the judge continued speaking.

“However, your nephew isn’t an average teen,” Judge Armen added. “He’s seen things in his short life that would drive most adults over the edge. Daniel’s going to require a lot of one-on-one attention if he’s ever going to begin the emotional healing process. If your nephew’s ever going to live a productive life, he’ll have to be shown how by someone he trusts. And keep in mind that trust doesn’t come easy for this young man.”

“I’ll do the best I can…”

“Mr. Regan, I’m afraid that ‘the best you can’ simply isn’t enough,” Judge Armen said as gently as he could. “I know you mean well, but I have to consider what would be best for Daniel. As much as I’d love to grant you custody, I’m just not convinced that you’re ready to handle such an incredible responsibility. I’m so sorry.”

Regan nodded weakly. “Well, I wish I could argue with you, Judge, but as much as I hate to admit it, you’ve hit the nail on the head. In fact, I talked to Ms. Parker about these same worries, but she tried to convince me that it would all work out somehow. Deep down, I guess I always knew that taking care of Dan would be too much for me to handle, but I didn’t want to let my sister down.”

“Once again, I’m so very sorry.” The judge shook his head sadly, obviously distressed by the predicament. “I know it’s not much, but I can make arrangements for you to visit him.”

“What’ll…” Regan paused to clear his throat. “What’ll happen to him since I can’t take him in?”

“I’m afraid that Daniel will have to serve the rest of his sentence. He’ll legally be an adult when he’s released, so he won’t be a ward of the state.”

Regan buried his forehead in his hand. Erin’s face kept looming in the back of his mind, and he could see her pleading eyes as clearly as if she were standing in front of him. “Isn’t there any way that he can be released now?” he asked mournfully.

“I already allowed him to plea down to manslaughter,” Judge Armen replied. “I sentenced him to be incarcerated at St. Mark’s instead of an adult facility. I’ve done all I can do. My hands are tied…”

“What if I find someone else to take him in?” Regan asked, desperation etched on his features. “If I can find him a good home in Sleepyside, would you consider releasing him now? That way I could still see him and have a part in raising him. Please, Judge Armen. Please?”

“Mr. Regan, I’m afraid you’ll have a hard time finding anyone willing to take in a teenager who’s committed such a violent crime…”

“But he was just defending himself!” Regan pointed out.

“That may be so,” the judge conceded, “but even if we could magically clear him of the manslaughter charge, he’s been convicted of a variety of other serious crimes.”

“But if I could find him a home, would you consider releasing him to their custody?” Regan pleaded.

“I couldn’t release him to just anyone, you know…”

“I’ll find him a home with someone so good that you’ll have to release him!” Regan promised.

Judge Armen shook his head sadly. “That’s going to be a lot more difficult than you think.”

“With all due respect, you don’t know the people of Sleepyside, Judge,” Regan said defensively. “I’m sure I can find someone willing to take in Dan.”

“That may be true, but I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

“You don’t understand…” Regan was so overcome with emotion that he had to stop speaking until he felt he could continue. “If I didn’t do all I could to help Dan, I’d never be able to face my reflection in the mirror.”

“Even if you do find him a good home and I release him, there’s no guarantee that he’ll choose to walk the straight and narrow path,” the judge warned.

“I know, but I have to try,” Regan urged in a voice barely above a whisper. “Dan may be a rascal, but he’s my own flesh and blood. Until I found out about him, I didn’t have a single blood relative on this earth. He’s all the family I have, and I’m going to do right by him. For my own peace of mind, you’ve got to let me at least try to help him.”

Judge Armen sighed heavily. It was times like these that he wished he’d become a trash collector like his father. Having to decide the fate of a young man wasn’t something that he took lightly. He had a responsibility not only to Daniel Mangan, but also to the community in which he’d reside. If he made the wrong choice, lives could be ruined.

As if he could sense that the judge was teetering on the fence line, Regan gave one final plea. “I can’t leave him here and let him think that nobody in this world cares about him. I’ve lived my whole life knowing that there wasn’t a single soul in the world who gave a rip about me. Since I lost contact with Erin, I’ve never had anybody love me, anybody take care of me. It’s caused me to build a wall around myself and kept me from ever being truly happy. My nephew deserves better than that. Please let me give him a chance to be loved and to be happy. Doesn’t he deserve at least that?”

After a pregnant pause, Judge Armen finally spoke. “Any potential guardian will have to first be approved by me…”

Regan held his breath anxiously.

“…and we’ll have to see if Daniel would be willing to agree to this…”

Regan nodded, his sage green eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“…and, if he does agree, I’ll need to interview him after three months to make sure the situation is working,” Judge Armen concluded. “Is that satisfactory to you, Mr. Regan?”

“Yes,” Regan answered eagerly. He hopped up from his chair and grabbed the judge’s hand to shake it. “Thank you, sir. Thank you so much!”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Judge Armen stated grimly. Deep down, he wondered he’d gotten William Regan’s hopes up for nothing. Surely no one in his right mind would agree to give Daniel Mangan a home.

Regan stared down at the piece of homemade blackberry cobbler in front of him. Although it was undeniably the best cobbler he had ever sampled, he wasn’t hungry. In fact, he didn’t think he would have much of an appetite until Dan was out of that juvenile detention facility and living in Sleepyside. However, he didn’t wish to offend his hostess, so although everything he’d tried to eat the past few days sat on his stomach like a rock, he forced himself to finish the dessert.

“Regan, I think it’s wonderful that you have a nephew!” Helen Belden exclaimed, the apples of her cheeks flushing prettily. “I’m very happy for you.”

He nodded glumly. “I’m happy about Dan, too.”

“You don’t look happy,” Helen pointed out teasingly.

“Well, I guess I’ll look a lot happier when I figure out a way to bring Dan to Sleepyside,” he admitted. “I only wish the judge would let him stay with me. I don’t want the boy to think I don’t want him around.”

“He won’t think that, Regan,” Helen said soothingly. “And even if he isn’t allowed to live with you, at least he’ll be nearby.”

“Yeah. Now I just have to find him a home that Judge Armen will approve of.” Regan ran a hand through his copper-colored hair. “I thought about asking the Wheelers to take him in, but I decided against it. It took Jim a while to get adjusted to things, and I’d hate to dump another orphan on them now that he’s finally settled in.”

“Matthew and Maddie would be happy to help you any way they could.” Helen patted the younger man’s hand in a motherly way. “You’re like family to them, Regan. You’re like family to all of us.”

“Still, I just wouldn’t feel right about it,” Regan muttered.

“Crabapple Farm has stretchy walls,” Helen offered with a smile. “We’d be happy to let Dan live here. Of course, I’d have to talk to Peter first, but I’m sure he’d agree.”

Regan shook his head. “Nah, I couldn’t let you do that. The boy has some serious issues that we’re gonna need to iron out before I’d want him spending a lot of time alone with Bobby. Besides, you already have enough on your plate to worry about, what with Miss Fidget and her penchant for finding mysteries.”

“I can’t argue with you there,” Helen agreed, laughing. “However, I’m sure I could handle one more teenager without needing to be committed.”

“No,” Regan argued, “it wouldn’t be a good idea. Dan has… problems… and I just wouldn’t feel right about it. I do appreciate the offer, though.”

Helen nodded. However, she admitted being curious what these problems were and if they were really as bad as Regan thought. “I’m sure the Lynches—”

“No,” Regan interrupted. “It’d probably be best for Dan to keep to himself, at least for awhile. I’d hate for him to be a bad influence on any of the Bob-Whites.”

“I see,” Helen murmured. She picked up her coffee cup, but was so deep in thought that she forgot to take a drink. “So, Dan’s guardian should be someone without any children, who would offer a good home with solid values, and who could provide a positive role model for the boy.”

Regan exhaled loudly. “I guess Judge Armen was right; it will be almost impossible to find Dan a home.”

“Wait a minute! I know!” Helen was so excited that she almost spilled her coffee before she could set it down on the kitchen table. In that instant, Regan could’ve sworn that she was Trixie’s twin rather than her mother. “Elijah Maypenny!”

“Elijah Maypenny?” Regan echoed incredulously.

Helen looked as proud as punch as she repeated the name. “Elijah Maypenny.”

“Mr. Wheeler’s gamekeeper?” Regan’s coppery brows knotted in surprise.

“Do you know any other Maypennys around here?”

“No, can’t say that I do,” Regan admitted with a chuckle. “So, what about him?”

“He could take in your nephew!”

“Elijah Maypenny?”

Helen laughed as she nodded her head. “Yes, Elijah Maypenny.”

Regan snorted loudly. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Belden, but I can’t see Mr. Maypenny taking in a refugee from juvie hall.”

“Eli would be the perfect choice,” Helen insisted.

“The Mr. Maypenny that lives in the middle of the preserve?” Regan asked, positive that Helen Belden had either lost her mind or that there was another Elijah Maypenny in the area. “The old hermit that only ventures into town once in a blue moon and stays holed up in that cabin of his the rest of the time?”

“Well, you said it would be best for Dan not to be around other children.”

“But what makes you think that Mr. Maypenny would take in Dan?” Regan shook his head in confusion. “If he wanted company, he wouldn’t have decided to become a hermit in the first place.”

“Eli has always been fond of children,” Helen explained. “I remember when Mrs. Vanderpoel’s sons were young, they’d spend their summers with him. Mrs. Vanderpoel’s husband had died, and Eli spent a lot of time with those boys, especially when they were teenagers. He was a good father figure to them.”

“Hmm, I didn’t know that,” Regan murmured.

Helen nodded, her sandy curls bouncing around her pink cheeks. “Oh, yes. If I remember correctly, Mrs. Vanderpoel’s oldest son went through a real rebellious period, and it was Mr. Maypenny who convinced him to straighten up. He’s an obstetrician now, and his younger brother is an elementary school principal.”

“Is that right?” Regan scratched his chin. “I guess there’s more to Mr. Maypenny than meets the eye.”

“And the Bob-Whites simply adore him,” Helen added. “He loves to invite them over for dinner or to play cards. I’m not sure, but now that he’s older, I wonder if he regrets not having a family of his own. I think he’s lonely.”

“If he’s that lonely, a puppy might make for better company than my nephew,” Regan suggested wryly. “An old man and a rebellious teenage boy might make for strange cabin mates. He’s used to living alone, and Dan could put a cramp in his style.”

“You could ask him.” Helen gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. “After all, what’s the worst thing he could say?”

Regan could think of a few choice words Mr. Maypenny might say, but he certainly wasn’t going to use that kind of language around a lady.

“Actually,” Helen continued, “Dan might be a big help to Eli. He’s in his sixties, you know, and taking care of the preserve is a lot of work, especially for a man his age. Not only would Dan have a good home, he could learn responsibility. They’d be helping each other.”

“That’s true,” Regan murmured thoughtfully.

“Not only that, Elijah’s cabin is out in the woods,” Helen continued. “Dan would be close enough for you to spend time with him, yet he’d be far enough away from the other kids that he couldn’t be a bad influence on them.”

Regan bobbed his head up and down. “Yeah, that’s a good point. With Dan’s history…” He left his sentence unfinished. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t unload all this on you, Mrs. Belden. This isn’t your problem.”

“You’re welcome to tell me as much—or as little—as you wish. After all, Regan, as your friend, your problems are my problems.”

Regan looked into Helen’s kind, blue eyes, wondering how much information he felt comfortable giving.

“You know, burdens are always lighter when you share them with someone,” Helen advised gently.

“If I tell you, I’d appreciate you not passing it on to your kids. I mean, you can tell Mr. Belden, and I’ve already talked to the Wheelers and Miss Trask, but I don’t want the Bob-Whites to know any of this.”

“You have my word that I’ll keep your confidence,” Helen promised.

Regan bowed his head, staring at the freckles on his calloused hands. “My nephew’s not like the Bob-Whites,” he began slowly. “After his dad died, Dan got hooked up with the wrong crowd. He was trying to straighten up when his mom passed away, but then… then something happened that sent him to juvie hall. If I don’t find a place for him, he’ll have to stay there until he serves the rest of his sentence. He won’t get out until he’s eighteen, and I’m afraid that by then it’d be too late to help him turn his life around.”

“It sounds like the poor boy just needs someone to love him,” Helen commented. Rather than passing judgment, she sounded genuinely concerned.

A guilty wince marred Regan’s features. “I wouldn’t have bothered you with it, Mrs. Belden, but Miss Trask said you or Mr. Belden might have some idea what I can do. It’s got me beside myself worrying.”

“That’s understandable, dear,” Helen said softly, patting his hand again. “I’m glad you told me. I promise not to tell anyone besides my husband.”

Regan nodded his appreciation. “It’s something I’m hoping to keep from any of the youngsters. There’s no telling how they’d feel about it if they suspected the truth.”

“I understand.” Helen offered her encouragement with a smile. “Although I must say that I think you’re underestimating them.”

“You might be right.” Regan shot her an easy grin. “Still, I think it’s best to keep them in the dark about Dan’s past. Except for Jim, they’ve all been pretty sheltered, and I’d kind of like to keep ‘em that way.”

“If you think that’s for the best.”

“I do,” Regan said curtly. “Thank you for all your help, Mrs. Belden. After I leave here, I’ll go right over and have a talk with Mr. Maypenny.”

Both Regan and Helen jumped as they heard the front door open.

“Please let me know how it goes.” Helen paused as she heard Trixie singing as she clomped through the house. She made a mental note to give her daughter a few tips on entering the house in a ladylike manner. “If it doesn’t work out for some reason, we’ll try to think of something else.”

Nervous that Trixie would hear their conversation, Regan jumped up from the table. He grabbed his cap from the seat beside him and walked over to the back door. “I’ll be sure to do that, Mrs. Belden. Thank you for the advice.” He grinned and then added, “And thanks for the cobbler.”

“You’re most certainly welcome,” Helen told him. “As often as you’ve helped us, we’re happy to lend you a hand whenever you need it.”

“It sounds like the best idea, Mrs. Belden, and thanks a lot,” Regan said just as Trixie entered the room. “If it doesn’t work out, I don’t know what more I can do. It could turn out good if I’m lucky, or just make things more mixed up.”

Helen nodded soberly. She felt her daughter’s curious eyes boring holes into her, so she answered as cryptically as possible. “It’s worth trying. Good luck on it anyhow, Regan. I only wish we could do more to help.”

Regan put on his cap, gave Trixie a nod and a brief smile, and with a quick “Good-bye now,” went out. He had barely gotten the door closed when he heard Trixie ask her mother what was going on.

Leave it to Miss Fidget to turn this into a big mystery, he thought warily. He only hoped Sleepyside’s resident junior detective wouldn’t delve too deeply into Dan’s past and family tree.

Judge Armen stared in surprise at the elderly gentleman sitting across from him. Although the old man was clad in an outdated, ill-fitting suit, it wasn’t his clothes that intrigued the judge. It was the man himself.

Elijah Maypenny sat stiffly in his chair, his spine ramrod straight and his leathery hands folded in his lap. In spite of his unassuming demeanor, he spoke with great authority. Although Judge Armen was highly educated and held an important position, he felt slightly awestricken in the old man’s presence.

“And just so you know,” Mr. Maypenny was saying, “I believe in discipline. I would never hurt the boy, mind you, but I’ll not allow for any shenanigans while he’s under my roof. I believe in running a tight ship, and I’ll expect Daniel to carry his weight. A hard day’s work never hurt anyone, but many a man has been ruined by lack of it.”

Judge Armen nodded mutely.

“I’ll give the boy a clean, comfortable home and make sure all his needs are provided for,” Mr. Maypenny continued. “But just so you know, I’m not running a fancy, full-service hotel. I’m a simple man with simple needs; therefore, I don’t put much stock in all this newfangled technology. There won’t be any cable television, wireless internet, or satellite radio to fill his mind with a bunch of garbage. However, I have a bookshelf lined with literary classics, a fine collection of bluegrass records, and most importantly of all, a well-read copy of the Bible on my coffee table. And if that isn’t enough to keep the boy occupied, there are several acres around my cabin to patrol, a pond stocked full of fish, and a forest full of wood to chop.

“I believe the best way to keep the boy out of trouble is to keep him busy with the right sorts of activities. Until we know Daniel intends to do right, I plan to keep him too tired to do wrong. Granted, I won’t make him get out of bed as early as I do, but there’ll be none of this lazing around in bed past six-thirty or seven o’clock in the morning. He’s almost a man, and it’s high time he started behaving like one.”

Judge Armen knew he should say something; however, he just wasn’t sure what it was. So he just nodded.

“I don’t have many material possessions in this world,” Mr. Maypenny was telling him, “but the boy is welcome to share what I do have. However, what I lack in worldly goods, I’ll make up for in virtue. I believe in honor, integrity, dignity, and respect, and I’ll do my best to teach those attributes to Daniel by my example.

“No prior obligation of mine is as important as seeing to the boy’s welfare, so I’ll be there for him night and day. I’ll treat him like my own flesh and blood, which means I’ll discipline him like my own, work him like my own, provide for him like my own, and most importantly, love him like my own. I’m a man of my word, and I promise you that if I’m granted custody, Daniel will receive the very best of everything that I have to offer.”

Judge Armen blinked his eyes a few times, still unable to think of anything intelligent to say.

“So, Judge Armen,” Mr. Maypenny began, “do you have any questions for me at this time?”

After clearing his throat, Judge Armen finally spoke.

“Exactly how many children would you consider taking in, Mr. Maypenny? Any chance we could persuade you to care for a few more? In addition to Daniel, of course…”

Dan Mangan’s mouth had gaped when his uncle led him to a beautiful, fully-loaded late-model Cadillac in the parking lot of St. Mark’s. He knew that his long-lost relative worked in a stable, so he was rather taken aback to see such a fancy set of wheels. His jaw had dropped a bit further when he noticed a dark-haired man sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Nice ride, but who’s the dude behind the wheel?” Dan had snickered. “Don’t tell me that’s the chauffeur.”

“As a matter of fact, Mr. Smarty-Pants, that is the chauffeur. And his name is Tom, not ‘dude’.”

“Sweet. I didn’t know Daddy Warbucks would be sending me my very own chauffeur,” Dan had commented.

“Tom’s not your chauffeur,” Regan had corrected sharply. “He works for my boss same as us, and don’t you forget it. And the boss’ name is Mr. Wheeler, not Daddy Warbucks. Call him anything other than Mr. Wheeler and you’re dead meat.”

The ride from New York City to Sleepyside-on-Hudson had been quiet. Regan had barely said five or six sentences during the hour-long trip. Occasionally, Tom would ask Dan this or that to keep the conversation flowing, but Dan felt uncomfortable answering questions in front of his uncle. Although Bill Regan was technically family, this newfound relative made Dan nervous. Tom eventually gave up trying to force the small-talk and turned on the radio and found a basketball game. The rest of the ride home, Dan leaned against the plush leather back seat and wondered how long it would take until Regan wanted to get rid of him and sent him back to St. Mark’s.

If Dan had been impressed by the luxurious car, then there were no words to express how enthralled he was when Tom pulled into the winding driveway of the palatial Wheeler estate.

He whistled under his breath. “Whoa. I thought you were ditching me on some old hermit in the middle of the woods. I didn’t know I’d be staying at Buckingham Palace.”

“This is where my boss and his family live,” Regan informed him brusquely. “Tom’s just dropping us off here so we can get the other car. We need a four-wheel drive vehicle to get to Mr. Maypenny’s.”

“By any chance does your boss have a daughter around my age?”

Regan arched a single coppery brow. “Yeah.”

“Is she hot?”

From the front seat, Tom choked back a laugh as he waited for Regan’s answer.

“I’ve never noticed,” Regan replied dryly. “And if you want to make it to adulthood, you’d be wise not to notice, either. Honey’s got an overprotective father and brother, and both of them are dead-on shots with a gun. They wouldn’t think twice about using you for target practice.”

Dan rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner. “Sor-ry. Excuse me for livin’. I didn’t realize that I wasn’t allowed to mingle with the hoity-toity boss and his hoity-toity family.”

“It’s not like that,” Regan contradicted as calmly as possible. “The Wheelers are rich, but they aren’t snobby. I guarantee Honey’s one of the sweetest girls you’ll ever meet. But she’s not like the girls that were in that gang of yours. She’s innocent, and I want to make sure she stays that way.”

Tom popped the trunk, and Dan got his bag while Regan brought the other car around. Regan stepped out long enough to thank Tom, and then he motioned to the passenger seat of the Subaru. “We’d better head out to Mr. Maypenny’s.”

“So, where do you stay?” Dan asked as they were preparing to pull out.

“I have an apartment above the garage.”

Dan narrowed his eyes as he appraised the large space above the garage— the space which appeared more than big enough to have more than one bedroom. “Looks nice,” he commented.

“It’s okay,” Regan mumbled.

Dan was tempted to ask how many bedrooms there were and if anyone else lived with him, but he decided against it. Instead, he hunched closer to the passenger’s door of the Subaru station wagon. The car wasn’t much to look at, but at least there was plenty of room between him and this strange relative.

Shivering, he clasped his leather jacket around him, hoping it would provide some warmth; however, having the cold material close to his skin only seemed to chill him worse. He thought about making a comment about wishing that this car had heated seats like the Cadillac, but he was sure Regan would somehow twist his words and start thinking Dan was planning to steal it.

“It takes a while for the heater to start working,” Regan remarked offhandedly. “She may not be as plush as the Cadillac, but she goes a lot better on those rough paths in the woods that Maypenny calls roads.”

“Was that your Caddy?”

“Nah, it belongs to the Wheelers, just like this car does,” Regan explained. “I woulda felt more comfortable picking you up in the Subaru, but Mrs. Wheeler insisted we take her car. I guess she wanted you to make your Sleepyside debut in style.”

Dan almost let a smile sneak through the gates of his lips, but he remembered to keep his scowl in place just in time. He crossed his arms in front of him, hoping it would trap some warm air against his chest.

“Are you sure you’re not cold?” Regan asked, not taking his eyes off of the road.

“I said I was fine,” Dan snapped. He hoped his voice sounded as cross as he felt.

Regan snorted from behind the wheel. “Sure you are. That’s why you’re hunkered over there, trying to keep warm. You should’ve let Tom stop at that shopping mall like he wanted to. I could’ve bought you a decent jacket.”

“This jacket’s fine,” the sullen teenager responded, tossing Regan a dirty look.

“Maybe for spring or fall, but you’re gonna get mighty chilly working outside in that thing.”

Dan scowled, his shoulders squared in defiance. “I’m outside all the time in the City and this jacket’s all I’ve ever needed.”

“What’s that writing on the back mean?” Regan questioned, although he already knew the answer. “Are the Cowhands a club or something?”

“Or something,” Dan mumbled. He rolled his coal black eyes in exasperation.

Regan clenched his jaw in an attempt to control his temper. He had little patience with those who failed to show their elders respect. “So, what did you think of Sleepyside? Nice little town, isn’t it?”

“It’s sure not New York City,” Dan remarked with a yawn.

“Thank God,” Regan murmured under his breath.

Dan turned his head slightly to the left and gave his uncle a pensive glance. “You don’t like New York City?”

“Nope,” Regan responded with a shrug. He peeked over at Dan and noticed his wounded expression. “Don’t take it personal, kid. I don’t like any city. I’m a country boy.”

Dan shook his head in disbelief. “You’re crazy,” he spat.

“To each his own.” Regan tapped the steering wheel nervously with one hand. The strained conversation was making him feel antsy. “Hey, do you mind if I listen to some tunes?”

“You aren’t going to listen to that country crap, are you?” Dan nearly groaned.

“What?” Regan inquired defensively. “You think just because I work in a barn all day that the only music I like is honky-tonk?”

Dan quirked a dark brow. “Don’t tell me you’re a Beethoven fan?”

“I’ll have you know that I’m an oldies guy,” Regan informed him with a chuckle. “Gotta problem with that?”

“Ma loved to listen to that kind of music.” Dan squirmed around, embarrassed that he had shared something he felt was personal.

“Would you hit the button and turn on the radio?”

“Why? Is your arm broke?” Dan challenged.

Regan gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to restrain his temper. “I’m more comfortable on a horse than in a car, and I’d rather keep both hands on the wheel, if you don’t mind.” He assumed a teasing tone. “Didn’t you learn in driver’s ed to keep your hands in the ‘ten and two’ position? They told one of the neighbor kids to do that when he was taking driving lessons.”

“I dunno. I think I had that class this year, but I never went.”

“How’d you pass it, if you always skipped?” Regan queried.

“I didn’t.” Dan lifted his chin, almost as if he was challenging Regan. “So, you gonna lecture me about it?”

“Nope.”

Dan sat there a moment, staring intently at the toes of his cowboy boots. He reached over and turned on the radio, and the Beach Boys’ hit, “Barbara Ann”, played softly through the speakers. He fastened his gaze outside, narrowing his eyes as he beheld the passing scenery. “Where the freak are we?”

“We’re heading to Mr. Maypenny’s.”

“Where’s the road?” Dan demanded.

“I told you there wasn’t any,” Regan said smugly.

“Geez, Louise,” Dan muttered, obviously not impressed. “This looks like the set of ‘Green Acres’.”

“It could be worse,” Regan commented, a twinkle in his green eyes. “We could be heading to Laura Ingalls’ place.”

Dan snarled his lip as he looked outside at the scenery, which included trees, dirt, bushes, and rocks. “Is this a one-horse town, or what?”

“Actually, we have five horses in the stables, and that’s not even counting Mr. Lytell’s mare, Diana Lynch’s palomino, Mr. May—”

“Ha-ha.” The sarcasm dripped thick from Dan’s voice. “So, what do people do for fun around here? Tip cows?”

“Do that around these parts, and you’re liable to wind up with a round of buckshot in your backside, boy,” Regan said sternly.

Dan scowled. “Don’t worry. I can think of a lot better things to do than knock over some poor, defenseless pile of hamburger.”

“Just make sure it’s legal,” Regan retorted.

“Duuuude,” Dan drawled out as he looked out at the road, which consisted of firmly packed gravel rather than pavement. “Where the freak are you taking me?”

Regan sighed loudly. “Do you have to keep saying ‘freak’?”

“Maybe we’d get there sooner if you weren’t driving ten friggin’ miles an hour.” Dan grinned at his clever substitution of “frig” for “freak”.

“I’d rather be safe than sorry. Since I don’t care much for driving, I don‘t get much practice at it.” Regan took his eyes off the road long enough to give his nephew a sidelong glare. “And don’t use the word ‘friggin’,‘ either.”

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Dan’s forehead crinkled in consternation. “If we get lost out here, nobody would ever find us until there’s nothing left of us but our skeletons.”

“I’ll have you know that I can find my way on these trails better than anyone in these parts, except maybe the gamekeeper himself, that is,” Regan snapped.

“Jeesh,” Dan breathed through his lips. “Bite my head off, why don’t you. Even if you didn’t look just like Ma, I’d recognize that Regan family temper anywhere.”

Regan smiled ruefully. “I do have a touch of that, don’t I? If it makes you feel any better, at least I get over it fast.”

“So did Ma.”

Regan’s smile grew sentimental. “She sure did. I remember once, when I was five, she liked some boy at the orphanage where we lived. Tony Monaldo, I believe his name was. Somehow I found out about her little crush, and one day I followed her and Tony to the broom closet where all the older kids would go to make out. They were making goo-goo eyes at each other so bad that they didn’t even notice me sneak in and hide under a shelf.

“Just when he’d gathered enough nerve to kiss her, I jumped out and started barking at them,” he continued with a chuckle. “Poor ol’ Tony was so surprised that he stuck his tongue in your mom’s nose. I was scampering around on all fours, naked as a jaybird, because as you know, dogs don’t wear clothes and I wanted to keep it as authentic as possible.”

Regan was laughing so hard that he had to wipe a tear from the corner of one eye. “And as if it wasn’t already bad enough, I sank my baby teeth into Tony’s shin and latched on tight. Your mom was screaming bloody murder and swatting at me, threatening to beat me within an inch of my life. When Tony finally shook me off, he raced outta that broom closet like his hair was on fire.”

Even Dan chuckled at the recollection. “What did Ma do?”

“Oh, she was hopping mad for an hour or two,” Regan remembered. “She wouldn’t sit by me at dinner that night and it just about killed me. Then she hid my toy horse Norman from me, and I boo-hooed something awful to get him back.”

“How long did she stay mad?”

“Not long. I think she’d gotten over it by bedtime. Of course, that may have had something to do with the fact that she caught Tony Monaldo kissing Amy Dobber in that same broom closet after dinner,” Regan concluded with a wink.

Dan laughed out loud. However, as soon as he noticed that he had begun to relax, he immediately replaced his sullen mask. Stiffening his spine, he returned his gaze to outside. “Dude, how far out there is this place?”

“Pretty far,” Regan replied. “I told you that Mr. Maypenny lived in the middle of Mr. Wheeler’s preserve.”

“Yeah, but I had no idea it was this big,” Dan commented. “You could’ve at least let me stay in the United States.”

“We’re not in Canada yet,” Regan teased.

“Man, you must think I’m trouble to stick me way out here in the boonies.”

Regan remained silent.

Dan peeked at his uncle out of the corner of his eye. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Dan, we talked about this at St. Mark’s. I’m too young to be a father to you. I work fourteen-hour days, and I know a whole lot more about horses than kids. You deserve to be raised by someone older and wiser than me.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dan mumbled.

“I mean it, Dan!” Regan exclaimed. “Why, I couldn’t even remember to feed a goldfish, let alone do all the stuff that parents are supposed to do for their kids. You’d plum starve to death if you lived with me. Almost everything in my refrigerator is green, unless it’s supposed to be, that is. Then it’s fuzzy.”

“I could cook and get groceries,” Dan suggested.

Regan shook his head. “It’s just not that simple, Dan. When you get older you’ll understand.”

“I already understand,” Dan blustered angrily. “You just don’t want to have anything to do with me, so you’re going to dump me off on some old crazy coot in the woods!”

“That’s not it!” Frustrated, Regan slapped his freckled hand against the steering wheel. “If you had four legs, a mane, and a tail, I could take care of you just fine. Fact is, I don’t know much about people. I’d mess you up worse than you are now. I asked Mr. Maypenny to raise you for your own good.”

“Being stuck with some weirdo hermit in the middle of the godforsaken forest is ‘for my own good’?” Dan snorted in disbelief. “I sure would hate to see what would be ‘for my own bad’.”

“You certainly aren’t shy about running your mouth,” Regan said. Although his tone was stern, there was a trace of admiration in his voice. “You remind of someone I used to know.”

“Who?” Dan snapped.

“Me.”

Dan sighed wearily, and raked a hand through his longish black hair. “If you were in my shoes, would you want to stay with this Maypenny dude?”

“When I was your age, I woulda given anything to be able to live with Mr. Maypenny,” Regan answered. “Instead, I was stuck in a room full of thirty other teenage boys, never having a moment of privacy, never having one-on-one time with an adult who cared about me, nev—”

“Okay, I get the point,” Dan interrupted with a wince. “So, what’s Maypenny like? Why does he live out there out on the edge of nowhere all by himself?”

“Mister Maypenny,” Regan corrected firmly. “I don’t know too much about him; nobody does.”

“Great,” Dan mumbled huffily. “You’re probably sending me to live with an ax murderer.”

“He’s not an ax murderer,” Regan said with a smirk. “He’s just a nice old man who lives off the land and never hurts anyone. He’d break his neck to help you out, but would rather die before asking for your help.”

A loud rumbling in Dan’s stomach made him think of another very important question. “Does he cook good?”

“His hunter’s stew is legendary,” Regan replied with a broad grin. Hearing some muttering, he looked over at his nephew. “What did you say?”

“I said, I hope it’s not made out of real hunters.”

That night, Dan lay quietly in his bedroom. His new digs weren’t exactly the Plaza, but they were certainly a step up from his cell at St. Mark’s. However, in spite of how cozy the cabin was, Dan couldn’t fall asleep. He was used to hearing sirens wailing, horns blaring, and people screaming. Out here in the middle of nowhere, he was surrounded by frogs, crickets, and all those other annoying nature sounds. Still, the quiet murmur of the forest wasn’t nearly loud enough for Dan. For the first time in his life, he understood the saying about silence being deafening.

Although he wanted to pretend that the bugs outside were keeping him awake, deep down Dan knew that wasn’t entirely true. If he were to be completely honest, he’d have to admit that he was too busy thinking about his uncle to fall asleep.

William Regan was a two-edged sword to him. On one hand, his uncle had provided the freedom for which Dan had yearned. On the other, he was a constant reminder of what had cost Dan his freedom in the first place. Dan nearly shivered anytime he looked at his mother‘s younger brother. His red hair, green eyes, and pale skin made him look so much like Ma that the boy could barely look at Regan without bursting into tears. Although he tried to play tough, he longed for his mother so much that it physically hurt and seeing someone that she so closely resembled was a dagger to his heart.

Even worse, although Regan wasn’t effeminate by any stretch of the imagination, his mannerisms were eerily similar to those of Dan’s mother. The twinkle in his eye, the way he held his mouth when he smiled, the way his jaw twitched when he was mad, his fondness for speaking with his hands… It was Erin Mangan to a T.

Dan sighed, wishing he could think about something else. Unfortunately, the vision of Regan was just as stubborn as the actual man. His uncle’s face consumed his thoughts, and those thoughts weren’t pleasant. Rage filled Dan’s heart as he pondered his situation, and since he didn’t have anyone better to blame, all his anger was directed at Regan.

He had tried to act cool when Regan showed up at St. Mark’s, but truthfully he was thrilled at the turn of events. For the first time since his mother’s death, Dan felt he might have a chance to be truly happy. However, those hopeful feelings didn’t last long. Just as he was planning to take down all the walls he’d built around himself, he learned that he wouldn’t be staying with his uncle; he’d be living with an old man in the woods.

Dan had been tempted to tell Judge Armen to forget about it; he’d just stick it out there in juvie. But it hadn’t taken him long to reconsider. Longing for the feel of sunshine on his face, he agreed to the arrangement. The emotional barricade went up a little higher, and Dan promised himself that he wouldn’t let anyone hurt him again. He made up his mind to enjoy his freedom, stick it out for a few years with the old dude in the woods, and then when he was legal, bug out after telling his uncle exactly what he thought of him. It was a good plan.

Too bad it didn’t work.

Dan had thought he’d be content just to be released from jail, but now that he was out, he wanted more. The white picket fence, the dog named Spot, the meatloaf for dinner, the annoying questions about how his day at school had been… Dan wanted it all. However, he didn’t want it from Mr. Maypenny; he wanted it from his uncle.

But his uncle didn’t want him.

Dan hadn’t cried since he’d watched his mother be lowered into the ground. Even after he’d been sentenced, he had kept a scowl planted firmly in place and tried to give the impression that he wasn’t bothered by his situation. But now, as he thought about how he’d been pawned off on some old codger in the middle of nowhere, he had to sniff back tears. If his own blood relative didn’t want him, then he must truly be impossible to love.

Who needs Uncle Bill, anyway? he thought bitterly. I’ve gotten along fine without him all these years, and I don’t need him now. I could care less that he doesn’t love me, much less like me. Only a few years and then I can get outta this friggin’ Podunk town and go back to the city where all my real friends are.

Rolling over to face the wall, Dan tried to pretend that it didn’t bother him that not a single person on the whole planet loved him. He’d come to that conclusion a long time ago, so it almost didn’t hurt anymore.

Almost.

At precisely that same moment, Regan studied his reflection in the mirror of his medicine cabinet. He couldn’t help but notice how haggard he looked as he brushed a few drips of toothpaste away from his mouth. There were bags under his eyes, caused from spending the past several nights worrying about his newfound nephew rather than sleeping. Much to his chagrin, he knew things would likely get worse before they got better.

Regan stared at his reflection as he wiped his mouth with a towel. He shook his head in disgust, hating what he saw looking back at him. Instead of the handsome, congenial, ruddy-faced groom that greeted his friends, he saw a cynical, angry, distrustful man who was a tragic victim of his own bitterness.

At the tender age of fifteen, he’d accepted his situation as merely the continuation of a miserable, hopeless existence. Death would be his only respite, and since he wasn’t particularly anxious to step off into eternity, he decided to go through life alone to lessen his risk of losing yet another loved one. So he built a wall around his heart. This wall was made of hurt and disappointment, yet it proved stronger than conventional partitions constructed of stone and mortar.

Only one person had managed to find a crevice in the wall around his heart. Against his better judgment, Regan had allowed Joan Stinson to affect him. He had fallen in love with her, and he thought she loved him in return. But after she’d wedged herself into his heart, she turned against him when he’d needed her most. As he left Saratoga in the dead of night, Regan concluded he would be far safer to never love again than to risk losing yet another person he cared about. He grew more resentful than ever.

And the wall went back up, stronger and higher than ever.

He thought it would easy to keep the vow he’d made to avoid love. And for a while it was. The wealthy families for whom he worked were cold and reserved. Even the Wheelers had been that way at first. But then they moved to Sleepyside, and everything changed.

For the first time in his miserable life, Regan was surrounded by annoyingly happy families with perfect lives. As he watched the Beldens, the Lynches, and eventually even the Wheelers, he realized how alone he truly was and how much he was missing because of his self-imposed social exile. Worse than that, there wasn’t a soul who understood why he was such a loner. Marge Trask came the closest, but even she had a brother and sister. Jim had also been able to relate; however, now that he had been adopted by the Wheelers, he was part of one of those annoyingly happy families.

Slowly but surely, the Bob-Whites had chipped away at the barricade he had worked so hard to construct. He’d grown very fond of the group of teenagers, and he even had to admit—albeit grudgingly— that he enjoyed their company. However, spending time with them only made him long for someone he could love and who would love him in return.

Battered, the wall remained intact.

Regan finally accepted that he was alone. Absolutely, positively, devastatingly alone. Part of him wanted to do something to rectify his situation, but the part of him that wanted to crawl up and lick his wounds won out. He desperately wanted to look for happiness, yet he was afraid that he might actually find it, only to lose it all. He resigned himself to a lonely life.

Then he’d received the call from Ms. Parker that would ultimately change his life. Regan was no longer alone; he had a nephew. He would be responsible for the welfare of another human being, and that realization scared him to death. However, his fear of rejection was worse than his fear of losing yet another person he loved. With Dan’s history, there was a great risk the boy would return to his old lifestyle and be sent back to jail or possibly even killed.

That sobering thought caused Regan to exhale heavily as he studied his reflection in the mirror. And right then and there, he decided that Dan was worth the risk. The heart that he thought had been protected by its wall ached anytime he looked at the boy. He saw so much of himself in his nephew that it frightened him. He recognized the bitterness, the anger, the hurt, the loneliness…

He wanted more for his sister’s son that that. Even though Regan had no idea how, he had to stop Dan from becoming like the man he saw in the mirror. And in doing so, maybe somehow his own reflection would change for the better.

His thoughts weighing heavily upon him, Regan turned off the bathroom light and trudged into his bedroom. However, instead of climbing into his bed, he hesitantly knelt beside it. He stared at the coverlet, wondering what he should do. He hadn’t been a praying man ever since he had left the orphanage. However, considering the gravity of this situation, he decided he needed all the assistance he could get. It was high time he reconciled his relationship with the Almighty.

Clumsily folding his hands, Regan lowered his head and began his prayer. “Lord, I know I haven’t talked to You a while. I guess I’ve been blaming You for the mess my life is, when really I’m the one who screwed it up. I’m the one who decided to close myself off to the rest of the world.

“Now You’ve given me a second chance. You’ve brought Dan into my life, and I want to do right by him. He’s still young and has a chance to be happy. Please help him not end up like me, alone and miserable, and please show me how to love him the way I should. I’m not too good at that, as You know. It’s gonna be tough, but I’m asking You to help me form a relationship with him. Help me not be so blamed stubborn and impatient, and most of all, help me give him what he needs.

“God, only You understand the pain we’ve endured. It’s gonna take a miracle for either one of us to ever be happy. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking for that miracle. I remember the nuns saying You had a soft spot for widows and orphans, and I sure hope that’s true, ‘cause nobody else ever seemed to care for us. Dan and I have both been through the fire, Lord.

“Please help us come out like gold…”

Credits:

Thank you so much to Ryl and Steph H, who edited this story long, long ago. As always, your suggestions were right on the money.

Portions of this story were taken from my Dan-centric fanfic, Wood-Chopping 101, as well as The Black Jacket Mystery. I attempted to weave my own ideas with canon, and I hope I did it so seamlessly that you can’t tell where Kathryn Kenny ends and AprilW begins.

I’m quite grateful for the anterior cervical discectomy I’m about to have. Because of researching that surgery, I learned the correct way to spell “vocal cords”. J

Mrs. Vanderpoel’s sons are completely an invention of my own. However, now that I’ve created them, I’m very curious about them…

I have a confession to make. I didn’t like canon Dan very well in Black Jacket. However, I liked writing this version of Dan very much. There are so many smart-alecky comments that I’d like to make, but I am too tactful to actually voice. *g*

Working as closely to teenage boys as I do, I know with 100% certainty that the first thing Dan would want to know about Honey is if she was hot.

The account of Regan acting like a dog and barking at a boy his sister liked was sadly autobiographical. Luckily, my then four-year-old brother had more sense than I did at fourteen.

I had planned to reconcile these two stubborn Irishmen at the end of this story. Unfortunately, they were more obstinate than I thought. There is another Dan/Regan story in the works, as well as another story giving more details about Dan and his gang. I hope to finish those soon.