Andrew Figalilly came running into the living room of the home he had shared with his wife for the last 35 years, a look of pure panic on his face.

In all the time they had been married or courting for that matter, she had never had anyone come down to the fields to ask him to come and see her. Not when she was in labor, or when his parents had arrived unexpectedly or the day they had first become grandparents. If she had called for him, it must be something quite tragic and awful.

"Rose!" he hollered at the top of his voice."Rose Ferguson Figalilly! Where are you, woman? What's wrong? "

"I'm in the kitchen, man, " she called not seeming to be ruffled or upset in the least. Where else would I be?"

He ran into the kitchen, his work shoes leaving drops of mud on her freshly clean floor. "How many times have I told you to wipe your feet?" she grumbled good naturedly. "If I had a pence for every time I had to tell you or one of your boys to not track mud all over my clean floor...."

"Rose, woman." he tried to catch his breath. "What in the devil are you talking about floors for? You sent Bernard down to fetch me. He said you told him it was important. What is it?"

"We need to go see Phoebe." she said as though he should have already known that. "And I think we should go straightaway."

"Why?" he sat down in one of the straight back chairs, running his hands through his red shock of hair. It might be thinning but at least he still had hair. "Is she ill?"

"No, she's fine."

"Did she write or call and ask us to come to her?"

"No, she didn't." his wife replied, handing him a cold glass of lemonade.

"Don't tell me Alfred has managed to land her in jail again." Andrew shook his head. "Because I have told that girl, time and time again, just to let the old goat....."

"No, she didn't." Rose sat down on another chair. "I just woke up with the feeling we should go and see her. And it's gotten stronger as the day goes by. So, I've packed and asked Juliet to secure tickets for us."

Juliet was the youngest Figalilly child, a teacher at the nearby school and newly married.

"What kind of tickets?" he looked doubtful.

"Plane tickets, my love." his wife smiled her gentle smile. "It's much easier to get from here to there that way."

"And where is there?' he asked, still wondering what this was all about."

"California." Rose got up and began to fold the laundry she had pulled off the line earlier. "I've heard it's lovely there -- always warm."

"And when do you propose we go to this California?"

"Why, as soon as possible. You know as well as I do that if we are going to surprise our Phoebe, we will have to hurry, or she will have found out before we know it. I'm just hoping for a distraction that will keep her mind off us until we arrive."

"My gracious." Phoebe Figalilly said softly, as she stood in front of the kitchen sinkstaring out the window. "I certainly didn't see THAT coming."

Her hands were still gripping the dish she had been washing when Professor Everett had said what he had said, that was making her so thoughtful now. Surely he hadn't meant it. Not the way she had thought he meant it. That would be impossible because, well, it just would be.

They had been discussing the math department dinner. It was this coming Saturday and she had been informing the Professor that his tuxedo was freshly washed and pressed and was hanging in the hall closet. "I am sure that you and Professor Davis will have a most excellent time."

"Don't tell me I've managed to pull one over on you." he had had a wry smile, as he downed his last swallow of coffee.

"What do you mean by that, Professor?" she had asked in a voice that said she knew she was rarely wrong. She wasn't boasting, it was just a fact.

"I'm not taking Professor Davis to the dinner."

"Professor Michaelson then, or perhaps Dr. Jordan?" She was very fond of Dr. Jordan.

"No, not them either. I have decided I'm not going."

"But why?" she truly was perplexed now. She certainly hadn't seen this coming and after two years living in the Everett household, she was pretty good at knowing the Professor's every move. Not that she hadn't known it from the beginning.

"Well because I have decided that I am wasting my time and the time of the women I've been going out with by pretending that I am interested in them. "

"Pretending, Professor?" she had stopped in her washing, but had not turned around to face him. "Whatever do you mean?" and for some unknown reason, her heart began beating heavily in her chest.

"Well, Phoebe Figalilly, for all the things you know, I'm surprised that you haven't guessed it long ago. The only one I'm interested in -- is you." And he had kissed the back of her neck, letting his lips linger against her skin for a brief moment before walking out the door.

"He couldn't have meant what he said." she shook her head, her neck still tingling from where his lips had touched it, a unknown warmth coursing through her veins. "I merely misunderstood him. " and she nodded, feeling better that that was the explanation.

Finishing the dishes, she threw the sudsy water down the drain and dried her hands on the towel hanging by the dish drainer. There was just too much to do to dwell on what had happened. But as she went about her normal day of washing clothes, preparing dinner, making beds and working in her garden, she couldn't get the feeling of the Professor's kiss off of her skin, or the memory of his words out of her mind. Tonight after the children were in bed, she would ask to speak with him and get everything cleared up. It wasn't like her sixth sense to be out of tune and she didn't like it. And she would have to do something about it.

"Nanny, why are you putting pepper in the pudding?" Prudence's voice brought her out of her thoughts and back into the kitchen.

"I am?" she looked down to see that she was doing just that. "Well, I don't suppose that will taste very good." she gave the little girl a smile. "Why don't I just throw this out and make some more?"

"Are you all right, Nanny?" Butch asked as he put the silverware on the table. "You don't have the dreaded whatchamacallit again, do you?"

'No." she laughed. "I am feeling just fine, Butch, thanks for asking. I think I'm just a bit tired."

"Why are you tired, Nanny?" Hal looked up from pouring water into the glasses. "I've never know you to be tired."

"Oops." Butch bent down to pick up the spoon that he dropped. " Guess I better get another one."

"I wonder who's coming." Prudence said as she sat down at her place at the table.

"Who's coming where?" their father joined the family, affectionately pulling on one of Prudence's pony tails.

"Butch dropped a spoon. That means company is coming, right, Nanny?"

The children's nanny said nothing as she took longer than usual to bring the food to the table.

"Nanny?" they all chorused together.

"I'm sorry, did someone ask me something? I'm afraid I didn't hear it."

"Never mind, Nanny." Professor Everett moved over beside her, gently taking the platter of roast beef out of her hands. "Just sit down, I can put dinner on."

She nodded briefly, doing what he said.

This was all his fault, he thought as the children discussed at length during the meal who the visitor was going to be and Nanny sat there, smiling and nodding but not really seeming to hear anything. He should have told her another way but, well, let's face it, he was chicken. Telling a woman that you cared for her wasn't as easy as he had remembered it to be. If he had done this bad of a job with his wife, it was a wonder they had ever gotten married.

"And I wonder when they will get here?" Prudence was saying to Butch as they neared the end of the meal.

"There is no dessert, Professor." Nanny apologized. "There was a problem in the making."

"Why don't we go get some ice cream?" he volunteered.

"No, Daddy, we can't." Prudence jumped up from the table. "We have to be here when the company comes."

"Prudence, darling, we are not having company." he tried not to shout. "If everyone had company every time dropped a spoon, everyone would always have company."

"But Nanny said..." Butch and Prudence began to chime.

And then the doorbell rang.

Wonderful." Harold Everett groaned.

"I'll get it" Hal started toward the door.

"Nanny." the professor started toward her. "We need to talk."

Waldo began to bark and Butch was making more noise trying to quiet him and bedlam ruled for a long thirty seconds.

"Nanny." Hal came back into the kitchen, a good looking man and familiar looking woman behind him. "Someone to see you."

Phoebe Figalilly got up from her chair, a look of wonder on her face. "Well I'll be..." her face breaking out into a smile. "Papa? Mother?" and she ran to the couple, who engulfed her in hugs.

"So she really does have parents?" the Professor asked no one.

"Everyone has parents, Daddy." Prudence chided, but he didn't hear her.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" Nanny was saying, her arm securely tucked in the crook of her father's.

"We thought you would figure it out before we got on the plane." her father smiled, touching her hair with his free hand. "With you, it is so hard to keep anything from you."

"You got him on a plane?" Phoebe gave her a mother a significant look. "How did you ever manage that?"

"I told him it was either that or we could borrow the balloon." Rose Figalilly gave a short laugh.

"I was on the plane before I remembered that Justine and Agatha are using it.' he grimaced. "So, Phoebe, who are these good looking people standing around here?"

"I'm so sorry." she moved away from her father and reached for Prudence's hand. "Mother, father, this is Prudence, and you met Hal. This is Butch." she pointed to the boy, still standing with the dog. "And Waldo" she added after he left a reminder. And this is Professor Everett."

"Allow me to say, it's a privilege to meet you both. " he kissed Mrs. Figalilly's hand and heartily shook her husbands. "I've heard just enough about you both..."

"To make you curious?" Andrew finished for him. "We haven't heard near enough about you, however."

"No, we certainly haven't." Rose agreed. "Phoebe never told us just how handsome you are, for instance."

Hearing her name, Nanny looked seemed to come to life and she smiled. 'Please forgive my bad manners. Professor Everett, my mother and father -- Rose and Andrew Figalilly."

After much deliberation of where the senior Figalillys would be staying while in California, Harold finally got his way and convinced them to stay there. "I'm not letting an opportunity like this pass me by, no sir." he winked at Nanny, who blushed a lovely shade of crimson.

"Let me show you to your room." Nanny suddenly became quite efficient again. "Butch, Hal, fetch the suitcases if you would please."

She settled them down in her own room, insisting they take it and that she could sleep on the sofa if necessary. "But your bed, Phoebe-bird." her father began to protest, which she silenced with a kiss.

"I can't think of anything I would want more, than to have you and Mother sleeping in it. And don't argue with me."

"Yes, ma'am," and he patted her cheek. "My lovely little girl."

She allowed him to pamper her for a moment and then returned to her brisk demeanor. "The bathroom is down the hall and there is plenty of food in the frig if the hunger bug should strike in themiddle of the night. There is a fresh lemon pie in there as well as most of a raspberry tart."

"So, you DID know we were coming?" her mother looked a bit disappointed.

"No, I really didn't have the slightest idea. But something told me to make both of the desserts yesterday so I did." She kissed each one, wishing them good night. "The Professor and the children usually eat around 7:30, so if you want to join them or avoid them, you're warned. And after they leave, we can do some catching up on the family."

"And you." her mother added.

"Good night." she ignored the words. "Very pleasant dreams."

She couldn't sleep. It wasn't that the couch was narrow, or lumpy. It was just the fact that she couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see the Professor standing behind her, saying those words, kissing the back of her neck. She was a well traveled girl, had been in many situations and cultures, had been proposed to many times, she had a "fiance" -- but she had never experienced anything like it. It was in her experience an extremely erotic thing for him to do, to be done to her. And it made her think of many other things.

Phoebe Figalilly had always prided herself on knowing what was occurring in any situation. It kept her on her toes and she had to admit it was quite fun watching the expressions on people's faces when she served their favorite dinner without them telling her what it was or she did something they hadn't even thought of asking her to do yet. It was a gift for the family itself --- her mother's side blessed with perception and helpfulness, her father's given the joy of wanderlust and freedom. How her father had escaped this particular blessing which he called a curse, she wasn't sure -- but she didn't love him any less for it. He knew that his children were compelled to roam the world and he never denied them that. "As long as you come home every now and then."

Even Juliet, who was currently living in the small village on the Devon coast in which she had grown up, happily employed and married had spent a bout of time in the Far East and Egypt before settling down. And Phoebe was sure that her sister and Duncan would not stay there forever. No true Figalilly could have its feet planted too deeply. Not even her father, who loved his home dearly and preferred to stay near it, was completely a home-body. Several years ago, he and her mother had picked up everything and traveled around the world, staying as short as an hour or as long as a year in one place. Traveling was in the blood, that and helping other human beings.

When Chumley had come to see her a few months back, she had told him that she was staying because she felt the Professor needed her here. He had understood that, but even his understanding had been laced with a string of suspicion.

"He needs my help." she said aloud, just as she had told Chumley that night. "Nothing more and nothing less." She had not come to this household to get a husband, she had a man ready when she wished to marry him. And perhaps that was part of the problem. Knowing that all she had to do was tell her intended that she was ready for marriage was such an easy thing. Her entire life she had been told that when she was ready, Chumley would be there to take care of her.

And he was such a patient man, letting her roam the world at her own pace, working as ananny to the young, caregiver to the old and once or twice a lady in waiting or even a maid. She had even worked the occasional pub, giving out drinks and advice readily to all who came. And through it all, Chumley had let her go. Not that he had been sitting at home waiting for her. He had seen a fair piece of the world himself, sending her letters and cards from all over. Not once had she asked him who he was with or what he was doing, because she knew there was no need. Just as he had not asked her. They were faithful to one another because there was no reason not to be.

And now, with Harold Everett's kiss, thoughts she had never considered were flooding through her mind. Not even when she had had to make the decision to marry Chumley or stay with the family had she considered such things. What was it the Professor had said that morning? 'The only one I'm interested in -- is you.'

Marriage, home, love and family. She believed in all of those things, wanted all of those things. But she had never thought of sharing those things with Harold Everett. But even as she said that to herself, she knew that wasn't quite true. He was a handsome man, smart, with a good sense of humor and a hard worker. He had a smile that made her want to smile back and she liked to make him smile as often as possible. Once, well, maybe twice, all right -- OFTEN she had wondered what it would be like to be held in his arms, to feel him kiss her. But she tried not to dwell on those things. She was there for one reason and one reason only -- to bring the best interests of the family to light.

"Nanny?" his voice caught her off guard and she almost fell off the couch.

"Something you needed, Professor?" she asked in a small voice.

"No," he came and stood beside her. "I can't sleep. And the more I tried, the harder it was to fall asleep. Nanny -- Phoebe, we need to talk."

He had never called her by her name before, she found she rather liked it. Without asking, he sat down beside her, their knees touching in the darkness.

"I meant what I said today, but I shouldn't have said it like I did, nor did what I did. I've been trying for so long to tell you how I feel about you and I'm afraid it just came out. I've felt this way for quite a while and I am ashamed it has taken me this long to say anything. And then your parents showed up and I figured that was a good time not to say anything at all. But I can't help it. I love you, Phoebe. And I want you to know that."

"You love me?" she asked, hoping he meant it. "Me?

"You," he took her hands in his. "You, with all your magic and foibles and things that make me roll my eyes and groan and wonder why I even try. You, with all the lessons you try to teach me and all those lovely coincidences that always occur to no one but me."

She laughed then, and he joined along with her.

"I love you too, Profess -- Harold."

He placed his lips against hers, her mouth so warm and alive under his own. She was hesitant at first, but soon allowed him to deepen that wonderful kiss. Her whole body began to soar with a pleasure she didn't know existed and she wanted nothing more than to keep that feeling forever. She couldn't resist putting her arms around his neck, pulling him closer against her while his lips played with hers.

"I certainly hope there is an explanation for this behavior." the voice of Andrew Figalilly broke into their world. "Because unless there is, you will unhand my daughter immediately."

Harold got up slowly, looking somewhat like a deer caught in bright lights, Phoebe couldn't help but think. And it made her want to giggle. Imagine getting caught by her father like a couple of young people who couldn't keep their hands off of one another.

"I was just telling your daughter, sir, that I love her and I was wondering if she might return those feelings."

"And?" Andrew's face was not one you would want to cross. How could such a gentle looking man have such a fierce frown?

"I do love him." she found her voice, standing up along side the professor.

"And what do you intend to do about the one you've been promised to since birth?" her father's scowl deepening.

"Well, you and mother both told me in that letter that marrying him was a decision I had to make and should follow my heart about."

"Has this one said anything about marriage?" Mr. Figalilly making a motion with his hand that would have been threatening if he had been holding a gun.

"No." she shook her head.

"Sir." her father grunted.

"I hadn't gotten that far yet." Harold defended himself. "That was coming next."

"So, you do plan to marry her?"

"If she will have me."

"Daughter?"

"I do." she said breathlessly. "What is all the commotion?" Rose came running downstairs, gathering her robe around her. She stopped short in the doorway of the den, when she saw both Phoebe and Harold in their night things standing side by side, her husband looking on with a determined look.

"It seems this young man has just asked our daughter to marry him." Andrew informed his wife. "And she has said yes."

"Phoebe, are you sure?"

"I am very sure." she nodded.

"Even though it means giving up your way of life? No more coming and going as you please, no more living your life on a whim. Are you willing to settle down to life as mother and wife?" her mother asked point blankly.

"It's not like her life will be boring or dull." Harold interjected. "I don't think marriage to me will be that mundane." he almost sounded insulted.

"Not for one minute would I think such a thing." Nanny took his hand in hers. "I've loved my life just as it is, but I will give it up all quite willingly to stay here forever with Harold and the children."

Her parents embraced at her words, before her father came over and took her in his arms, swirling her around the room.

"She's yours then, Everett. You best be taking good care of her, or I won't think next about getting back on the plane."

The children were informed of the news the next morning and all they jumped for joy at the announcement, Prudence literally, the boys figuratively.

After they were off to school, the Professor invited the Figalillys to see the campus and they agreed they would like to see where their future son-in-law worked.

They all took a tour of the university and then went to the cafeteria for lunch. "It's a wonder the students learn anything at all, eating this food." Nanny's father pushed his plate of turkey pie away.

"Don't worry, Papa." she told him, "There will be plenty of steak and kidney pie for dinner tonight."

While they ate, Harold did find out a few things about his fiancee. She was the middle child of six, and the oldest girl. Her oldest brother Timothy was currently in Canada and was on his way to visit relatives in Singapore. He was married to his long promised girlfriend and they had a child. She also had a brother Algernon who lived near their parents when he was home, and a brother Ernest who no one was sure where he was right now, but Aunt Henrietta promised he was safe. Her sister Evangeline was married to a cousin of Chumley's and had three children but that didn't stop them from touring the world. And then, of course, there was Juliet.

Although her parents talked about their diary farm, set on the Devon coast, none of her relatives seemed to have jobs or worry about jobs and Harold couldn't help but wonder if they were all actually fairies or some other magical creature in disguise. And then that thought made him laugh (quietly of course) as the three Figalillies talked of home and family, cousins that did daring feats, aunts that took on whole armies or told fortunes with a teacup or rode around in balloons, uncles that ran taverns and were vicars and rectors and highwire acts in the circus and then those called aunts and uncles who weren't related

at all.

Phoebe looked over at her professor, wondering if all these things were a bit overwhelming to him and later that night as they sat on the bench in the backyard, he admitted to her that it was. "And I would assume that there are many things about the Figalillies I will never know. But perhaps I don't care. And maybe I don't want to know.

As long as I know what I need to know about you."