13

Neela winced as the broken chords twanged through the house from the music room. She almost wished that Ray would finally accept that his daughter had not inherited his musical talent and give it up. She didn't know how much more of this she could take. Grimacing as another chord scraped roughly against her nerves, she loaded the dishwasher, trying to tune it all out without much success. She'd hoped for a little peace and quiet on her day off, but Ray had other plans.

The slamming of a door, followed by rapid footsteps made her pause, listening with every sense she possessed. She stood, her head tilted as she listened to another door open. The screech of a badly played guitar grew louder for an instant before it cut off completely. Neela sighed in relief for a minute before her son's voice cut through her.

"Are you trying to kill me?" he asked tightly. "Or is it the entire city you want dead? Can you just stow the noise for a while, Molly?"

"Oh, dear," Neela breathed. She'd never heard Raymond so angry. More rapid footsteps pounded down the hall toward her and she raised her head to watch her four year old nearly trip over himself getting to her. AJ's little face was on the verge of tears as he slid into her legs, with his dark hair tousled into corkscrews and a smudge of dirt across his cheek.

"Momma, come quick. Waymond is gonna kill Molly. Then Daddy gonna kill Waymond."

She suppressed the urge to laugh at the child's lisping words, but it was hard. AJ had melodrama down to an art form.

"Daddy is not going to kill Raymond," she said firmly. "Go on to your room and watch your movie while I see what's happening."

"Daddy won't kill Waymond?" he asked, lifting his head to look at her. If she wasn't mistaken, there was a distinct flash of disappointment in the little imp's dark eyes.

"Go on, sprout," she said, with a smirk as she gently herded him from the kitchen. Even now, she could hear the raised voices of her two oldest children as they fought, and the sound of snorted laughter that could only be her husband. She frowned. At the very least, he could break up this latest tiff, she thought as she left AJ with his movie.

Striding down the hall, she slowed to a halt at the music room, staring at the scene before her with new understanding of Ray's laughter. Molly and Raymond were across the room from each other, shouting as if there was a chasm between them. Ray, however wasn't watching them at all. His eyes were fixed with amusement on the three babies on the floor. The triplets were watching the two older children in fascination, their blue eyes shifting back and forth from Molly to Raymond, depending on which was screaming at the moment. They looked like they were watching a particularly fascinating tennis match. And the identical looks of astounded wonder on their cherubic faces were almost more than she could handle.

"You couldn't play your way out of a wet paper bag," Raymond was saying with disdain. "You're not setting your fingers on the frets right. Give it up before we all lose our minds."

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Molly shot back, throwing her dark ponytail arrogantly over her shoulder. Neela raised an eyebrow at the expression on her face, seeing the woman she would one day become in the fully adult look. "I can so play, I just need to practice."

"Practice?" Raymond said incredulously, and Neela's eyes shot to him. At ten years old, he stood nearly as tall as she did. Some days she wondered if he would have any clothes that fit him when he woke up in the mornings he was growing so quickly. "Your practice is killing me. Dad, tell her. She can't play the E chord unless she sets her fingers right."

Ray raised his eyebrows and turned with a startled look, as if he hadn't expected to be dragged into this.

"I already told her. She just needs…"

"If you think you can do any better," Molly said sharply, holding out the guitar, "Then you do it."

Raymond curled his lip, snatching the neck of the guitar from her hands. Neela held her breath as she watched Molly's smug smile of triumph turn to a slack jawed look of astonishment as Raymond played the piece without so much as one mistake. When he'd finished, he handed the guitar back to her with a smirk.

"I have homework to do," he said, whirling on his heel and leaving the room. He didn't even spare Neela a glance as he passed, slamming his bedroom door behind him. Neela raised her eyes to meet Ray's gaze. He smiled, and shrugged.

"He wanted to learn, so I taught him," he said.

The hair on the back of Neela's neck rose as Molly set the guitar in her lap and tried to play the piece. The sound was like fingernails on a chalkboard and would have awakened the dead. Neela didn't miss the way Ray cringed. A hiccup drew her attention to the babies on the floor and she found all three had the pre-screaming pucker to their lower lips, their big blue eyes filling with tears.

"Oh hell," Ray said as all three of them began to cry at the same time. He shot Neela a desperate look and scooped one up. "I think that's enough for today, Moll."

"But…"

Neela came fully into the room and plucked the crying child from Ray's hands, turning as he offered her the second one. She blew out a breath as she listened to crying in stereo surround sound, nearly breaking her eardrums. They'd certainly inherited their father's lung capacity.

Suddenly, the front door slammed accompanied by the sound of Brett's voice. She stepped out into the hall with the crying babies as he came into view, his brow furrowed in a frown.

"Who's been torturing my kids?" he asked as he took first one baby then the other from Neela.

"Molly," she said in relief as he cuddled his two boys in his arms. "Ray was giving her another music lesson."

Brett scowled at his friend as he came out with the third crying baby. Neela smiled as she looked him over. He'd changed over the past four years. He no longer looked like one of the homeless people that came into the ER on a regular basis. Dressed in clean jeans and a black skin tight tee, he didn't look like he'd simply rolled out of bed and thrown on the cleanest clothes in the laundry pile. Of course, his fiancée had a lot to do with that. Melissa was a very persuasive woman when it came to Brett, even talking him into starting his own recording business. It was the only job he'd ever held for more than a few weeks, and was a surprisingly successful venture. Of course, the man had adamantly refused to get rid of his army jacket. And he still dyed his hair whatever color struck his fancy at that moment, but there was only so much changing that a person could do in one lifetime.

"Mel will have your ass," Brett said darkly, cuddling his boys close to his chest though they'd largely stopped crying. They each had one arm flung around his neck and looked for all the world as if he was their favorite drinking buddy. It didn't matter that milk was the most potent liquid they drank, it was male bonding nonetheless.

Ray sighed as the girl in his arms squealed at the sight of her father, holding out chubby arms toward him.

"I was only trying…"

Brett handed Maddox to Neela before reaching for his daughter. She frowned. Or was it Trey she was holding? She could never tell the two boys apart. Cadence was the only one she knew with certainty because her mother always dressed her in pink.

"There's daddy's girl," Brett said, squeezing the kid so hard that she grunted out a protest. His gaze came back to Ray. "So what happened to set them off?"

"Ray threw a fit over Molly's playing and showed her up. When she tried to play the same thing, they started crying."

Brett rolled his eyes.

"You'll never teach that girl how to play, Ray. Get over it. Focus on Little Ray. There's your rocker. And hey, you've still got AJ to look forward to."

Ray blew out a long breath, and Neela wrapped her arm around his waist. He'd so hoped to teach his daughter how to play, but it was hopeless.

"With the drama king that AJ's turning into, you'll have more of a chance with him," she said quietly, smiling up into his face.

He laughed quietly and shook his head before taking the baby from her arms.

"I'll help Brett get these three in the car," he told her offering a small kiss.

She watched them go, standing in the entrance to the hallway, listening to the sound of their good natured banter. Molly came out of the music room with a scowl on her face but paused long enough to give Neela a hug before tramping off toward her room. Neela smiled as she knocked loudly on Raymond's door before ducking out of sight into her own room next door. An answering knock on the wall between their rooms was Raymond's answer. AJ's movie was a dull drone on the edge of her awareness. It was all blissfully normal behavior in the Barnett household. She sighed as she returned to the kitchen to finish what she'd been doing.

She couldn't stop the tears that burned her eyes as she finished loading the dishwasher. They weren't tears of sadness or loneliness that she'd so often shed before. These were tears of pure joy. It was as if the happiness inside of her was so big that the only way to express it was to cry. She had a husband who loved her. Three beautiful children and another on the way. Good friends. Even Brett was included in her joy. It helped that he now had a refrigerator of his own that he actually used. He'd found a good woman and had children of his own.

She didn't hear Ray as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She melted into him, smiling when his hand came to rest over her still flat belly.

"Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

"Yes. I'm just thinking how happy I am," she answered, running her hands up and down his arms.

They stayed that way for a long quiet moment, his arms cradling her close, his warmth seeping into her as she listened to the sound of his breathing, his heartbeat. Her father's words, uttered so long ago, came back to her and she felt fresh tears sting her eyes. Her destiny had indeed been determined by her deeds and actions. Had she not taken her life into her own hands things may have turned out much differently. Had Ray not listened to her, had she never returned to Chicago, they may not have been in this beautiful place. But they had. By the actions they had taken, they had both carved out a brilliant bright future for themselves. A future built on love, supported by friendship.

"I love you," she whispered.

And when the banging on the walls started again, she couldn't get angry at the fact that their children were fighting again. She could only laugh as they went down the hall to break it up before there was bloodshed, and be grateful for the path they'd chosen.

00000000000000000000000000000000

This is the end, everyone. We want to say thank you to everyone who read or reviewed. You've all been wonderful during the long writing process, and we thank you for sticking by us. We hope that you'll let us know what you think of this final chapter as well. Take care all, and until later...

We are yours,

butterflyswest and Erin Allen