With thanks to Alinyaalethia, OriginalMcFishie and AnneWithAnEStory.

For kslchen who wanted more Lynde family stories and Burcu who needs a smile.

"Hey Ma, remember how Pa used to tickle us when we were little?"

"Don't tell me you really remember?" Rachel asked John in disbelief.

"Well I don't remember him doing it to me exactly, but I watched him do it to the others and he told me he used to do it to me too. Remember his index finger was Hermina the mouse. Hermina was married to Tom, his middle finger. They had all kinds of adventures while proceeding to tickle us," John said. "Those mice used to nest in my armpit and then go hunting for cheese."

"For such a quiet man he had a great sense of humor and he did love all his babies, that's for sure and certain," said Rachel with a tear in her eye.

"I didn't mean to make you unhappy," John said sadly.

Rachel looked up at him with a smile on her face, "oh no dear. That's all right. We should be able to talk about him happily. He was such a presence in all our lives, wasn't he?"

Rachel had come to visit John and his wife Grace, their daughter Jane had recently given birth to Rachel's latest great grandchild, Maggie; a bonnie wee baby with bright blue eyes and a shock of dark brown hair above dimpled cheeks. John knew only too well how much his mother adored babies, so they had invited her over to stay with them for a few weeks. John figured she must get lonely in Lynde Hollow, rattling around the old family home all by herself.

She had arrived in a spray of good wishes the previous day, accompanied by numerous trunks, and had settled into the spare bedroom. The grandchildren crowded around them hoping for treats. Naturally they were not disappointed; she had something for everyone. One trunk contained nothing but preserves for their mother. Grace had muttered to John, "she obviously doesn't think much of my cooking prowess." But John had soothed Grace, reminding her that it was just Rachel's way. She never liked to be beholden to anyone, this was just her way of paying for her board.

"Tell me about … what were they called Tom and Herm…? Grace asked.

"Hermina. I don't know where he got that name from? It was always Hermina and Tom. He'd tell us involved stories about their various adventures. They were pretty close, but sometimes they argued; then the tickling got quite intense. We would roar with laughter, trying to squirm away. It was just his thing."

"That sounds so lovely. I wish my father had been so playful," Grace said wistfully.

Rachel sat by, nursing her cup of coffee on her lap, smiling gently at the story. "I used to get a bit annoyed actually. He'd start on at it around bedtime and get you all riled up. Far too excited for sleep," she said thinking back.

"I can imagine," Grace replied. "Just when you want them slowing down."

"Exactly," Rachel replied. "They'd be jumping up and down asking for more and I'd be there in the back, exasperated. If only I'd known how short lived that stage was, I would have encouraged it instead," she said, nostalgically.

"How about the time we found out that Robin got the hymn mixed up?" John said in an attempt to lighten the mood. Tickling wasn't supposed to make people sad.

"Oh yes dear, what was it? Not bringing in the shears, but?"

"Bringing in the cheese. I'll never forget him singing it lustily next to me. I got the giggles and I think even Pa's moustache started wriggling."

"So embarrassing. He was so loud with it too. I could just feel the neighbours staring at us," Rachel laughed. "He was a dear boy, little Robin."

Grace could picture her broad-shouldered brother in law. The thought of him being described as little was amusing.

Rachel picked up the baby. She never felt quite complete without a babe in her arms, as if she were naked somehow. Maggie fussed a bit, but soon feel asleep in her great grandmother's gentle hold. Rachel sat rocking the baby gently, feeling all was well in her world. She looked at John as another funny memory came to mind. At her smile he asked, "what?"

She laughed at that, "oh I just remember the time I was changing James when he was just wee, his umbilical cord had came off in his diaper. Eliza was watching over my shoulder and gasped, then pointed at him and asked if that would come off too. I had to explain," she said with a fond smile.

"Just as well, John said grinning, "don't want to lose that."

Grace blushed. It was strange to hear her husband talk about intimate things with his mother.

"That's just what your father said," Rachel replied with a twinkle in her eyes.

Later that afternoon, when Maggie had been placed in her bassinet for a proper sleep; Rachel, Grace and Jane sat outside on the veranda in the dappled sunlight, talking about motherhood in general. "It's all those funny little moments that seemed so monumental at the time, but which are quite insignificant really that I miss," said Rachel quietly, her hands folded in her lap. They had eaten a lovely lunch and now she was sleepy.

"Are you feeling quite well, Mother Lynde," Grace asked kindly.

"You know I am a bit weary. Still recovering from the journey, I guess." Rachel said with a sigh. "It is quite a distance."

"Why don't you have a lie down before dinner? Jane and I can manage the baby.

Grace led the way, pulling down the blankets and helping Rachel take off her boots. Rachel lay down on the soft bed with thoughts of her small fry dancing around her mind as she gently drifted off.

"Is she all right? Jane asked her mother.

"Just old is all. She hardly ever leaves Avonlea these days, I expect the journey tuckered her out."

Louisa had come to tea with her lot that evening and Rachel was delighted to see her. Louisa lived not far away, she and John kept in close touch. Talk turned once again, as it so often did, to Thomas. This time Louisa was able to tell them about the time he took to calling her Carrots. "because I ate a lot of carrots."

"That's right, you wolfed them down. I couldn't keep up with you. We were secretly worried you'd go a bit orange actually, that can happen."

Louisa looked up shocked and examined her hand closely. "No I think you were all right, but at the time..." Rachel laughed. "So Pa took to calling you Carrots. Makes me laugh because much later on there was another girl who got that nickname, but for other reasons. She was less happy about it."

"Can't think why, I quite liked it," Louisa. "Everyone had their thing didn't they and mine was that."

"Apart from carrots, you were a pretty picky eater as I recall," John said out of the blue. "I had to tell you long and involved stories to take your mind off your dinner. Do you remember?"

"You were a great help to me dear," Rachel looked at him fondly. "I was far too busy to stop and make sure you ate, Louisa."

"Sorry Ma," she said regretfully.

"Don't be silly, it's all a long long time ago. One picky eater out of eleven is pretty good going. You just started getting very thin as I recall and I realised eventually that you weren't getting much food in you. The rest of them would gulp it all down and you'd sit back and watch them."

"I think I was hungry, I just wanted to take my time was all. And then of course it would all be gone."

Dearest Marilla,

I pray this letter finds you safe as it leaves me.

Well after a longer journey than I am used to, I was greeted by John and Grace looking young for grandparents. It is a strange thing when one's own children gain that title themselves. What would Thomas have said?

We have been enjoying a lovely catch up. The baby is particularly sweet. I promise it's not merely that I am biased, it is the truth plain and simple. She is one of the bonniest babes I have ever seen. All right, I am sure you are raising your eyebrows in that manner I know so well dearest Marilla. But then if a great grandmother cannot blather on about her progeny, what good is there in the world?

Everyone is well and send their love to you both. I have been keeping them up to date with your news. They hope and pray that Davy & Millie will find peace soon and that Dora is safely delivered in due course.

I have been enjoying a good catch up with John and Grace. We have been enjoying swapping stories from when the children were all young. He was recalling the time the older ones fetched up at Green Gables when Katherine was taken ill. I am sure I said it at the time, but you really were a Godsend that dreadful week. Just to have the space to nurse wee Katherine without worrying about the rest of them was very beneficial my dear. It was such a long time ago, but she will always have a place in my heart.

John said the other night that you and Matthew coped very well with them all. He understands now, as he did not at the time, what an incredibly generous gesture it was on your part. It is no easy thing to take on numerous, boisterous small fry for a week, especially when you are unaccustomed. He still remembers what a happy week they had, despite worrying about their little sister. No mean feat indeed.

I will finish up here as I can hear them calling me to dinner,

I remain your good friend,

With love and best wishes,

Rachel Lynde

"Hey remember that dog, Shep was it?" John asked. Rachel groaned, putting her face in her hands. Grace looked at John askance. "Yes, Shep, that was it. Shep the shoe stealing dog. You loved that dog, Ma."

Rachel sighed, "I did, until… All those shoes," she shook her head.

"What now?" Grace asked. "I thought I'd heard all the stories."

"We had a sheep dog, part pet, part worker. Pa usually never let them be both, but this one managed to become a much-loved part of the family. He had such soft eyes, didn't he Ma?"

Rachel was silent, her mouth just slightly turned up at the corners. She nodded. "Anyway, one Sunday morning someone, maybe Davy?"

"It was James," interrupted Rachel.

John looked across at her nodding, "James couldn't find a shoe as we were going out to church. He got into a bit of trouble for it, as I recall." Rachel cast her eyes downwards, feeling guilty about that long-ago moment when her patience left her. "Then it was Louisa's turn the next morning. She lost a shoe and we were all late for school. Happened a few more times before we got suspicious."

"Did you find the shoes?" Grace asked anxiously.

"Eventually," John explained. "It was the dog." Rachel shook her head despairingly.

"Robin found the dog hovering over a big mess of left shoes, partially covered with dung, in the back of the barn."

"So expensive," muttered Rachel as she shook her head.

"You gave him the walloping of its life, as I recall," John said with a smile.

"He deserved it, he betrayed me. All that love I lavished upon it. Well no more, or so I thought at the time. And then none of you would wear the shoes again, not that I completely blamed you, so we had to buy multiple pairs. It was a lean time."

The next day John took his mother for a walk around town, eager to show her all the sights. They got to reminiscing as they usually did. "Pa was always so meticulous in the barn, remember? Everything had its place."

"Yes, he was fastidious with his tools," Rachel replied. "Said they were an investment and needed to be cared for."

"Yes, and if we borrowed them and didn't put them back, clean, in the right spot there'd be hell to pay."

"Hell? That's a bit strong. Did he ever raise a hand to any of you children?"

"Well, no," John replied, "he'd go quiet. Actually, that was worse. Then I knew I'd disappointed him. I used to help him in the barn, that was always a nice time for us both, chatting, telling jokes. He always gave good advice, too," John thought meditatively.

"That he was dear, that he most certainly was," Rachel patted her son's hand. "What advice did he give, pray tell?"

"Just about girls and things you know, young love."

Rachel smiled, "you had a few girls hanging around before Grace didn't you. Who was that girl, the one with the golden hair; so pretty in looks, but not in personality?"

"Jenny Callahan," John said reluctantly. The memory of her behavior toward him was still a bit painful.

"Jenny Callahan, yes that's the one. She was not the right one for you dear."

John shook slightly, "no she most definitely was not. When did you know Pa was the one, Ma?"

Rachel looked at him thinking back, her face went blank as her mind went back to that time. She blinked coming back to him. "Oh, that's easy, the moment he defended me at school."

"He defended you? From whom?"

"Oh, just some mean boy, I think they moved away, I can barely recall his name now. Anyway, that doesn't matter. He said something unkind to me and your father leapt to my defense. I admit I hadn't taken much notice of him before that, but in that moment I thought, this will be the boy I marry. And so I did," Rachel finished determinedly. "And I never regretted my decision, not once."

John's second daughter, Kate paid a visit the following day. Her children were a bit older, they tumbled around the parlor playing with toys and generally getting into the sort of muddle Rachel adored. When one knocked the coffee table nearly sending the tea tray flying, Grace decided to move the tea party outside. Kate's children were a bit too rambunctious for inside play. Kate helped Rachel out of the low-slung couch, and they followed Grace out into the sunshine. The children tumbled out joyfully, running around hooting, darting back for the odd cookie now and then.

"Grace sighed, "that's a bit nicer isn't it. I could barely hear myself think."

Rachel had to agree it was quieter and the children certainly seemed happier outside, but she rather liked their tumbledown play even if they knocked the afternoon tea about. Still it was interesting how one's perspective changed when you were not directly responsible for their behaviour.

As each of them settled in bed that night they all thought back to their kind father, grandfather or lover respectively.

Rachel remembered their wedding night. He had been so kind, yet passionate. They were so eager to get rid of their guests, Rachel's mother had thought them rather rude, even as she understood their fervent desire. She said as much to Rachel's father but he brushed her concerns aside, saying, "everyone understands, it's a special night." Rachel naturally knew nothing of that exchange and would not have cared either way; she was somewhat preoccupied at the time. Thomas had attended to her so sweetly, so tenderly she had wept with joy afterwards. Rachel drifted off to sleep dreaming that she was in his arms again.

John's dream recalled a sweet moment when he could have sworn he saw Father Christmas. It was late on Christmas Eve and although he knew objectively that it had been his own father he still retained a little nugget of the magic of that night as he fancied he heard sleigh bells and reindeer on the roof. His father had even hoisted him up on his shoulders to get a better look.

Eliza way over in Winnipeg dreamt of her father pelting her with snowballs on her way home from school one afternoon. It had snowed hard all that night and she was just getting home after a long school day when whack out of nowhere she was nearly bowled over by a wet splat on her shoulder. She looked around in shock and heard her father's familiar cackle. "Pa!" She dropped her books and stooped to gather a ball of her own.

It was all over in a manner of moments, icy water tracking down their backs, her Pa called truce and pulled her in for a hug, saying, "sorry, I just couldn't resist." The smell of his snow spattered coat stayed with her for a long time.

The next morning they all awoke in a post-dream fugue, happy that he had featured as he infrequently did. Rachel mentioned that she had dreamed about him, but not what it had consisted of. John looked up from his bowl of oatmeal, in shock, "goodness Ma, me too." He described his, adding thoughtfully, "I'll never forget how tall I felt when I was up on his shoulders."

"He was a wonderful father, that's what," Rachel said contentedly.

"If I'm half the man he was, I'll be content," John replied. Rachel squeezed his hand, thinking he was doing a wonderful job so far.