James watched Zig Zag as she once again tugged at her blouse and skirt, making sure the seams were straight. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Like I have any choice?” she snapped back. Letting out a long, tense breath she turned to look at him and smiled. “Really, it’s OK. I just hate dealing with the press, you know? It’s why I hired a press agent.” She held her arms out from her side and did a small pirouette, causing the skirt to flair. “So what do you think?”

“I think you look spectacular,” James replied with a broad grin. “You’re going to knock ‘em dead.”

The hospital administrator walked up to the pair and nodded to Zig Zag. “All ready?”

“About as ready as I’ll be,” she nervously replied.

The greyhound nodded. “Good. When we go out there, it will be Ben, followed by Sidney, then myself, you’ll sit to my right and finally Agent Atsushi will be seated on the end.”

Zig Zag frowned. “What about Anatol. Isn’t he participating?”

Donald shook his head. “I’m afraid not. He declined the invitation.”

“Oh,” Zig Zag grunted, glancing over at the priest who was talking with the FBI agent. “I guess that’s his choice, though I’d have expected him to try and get the church some good publicity.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Donald confessed. “You’ll have to take that up with him. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to find out where Sidney ran off to.” The doctor nodded to the pair and quickly left the room in search for his errant compatriot.

“OK. I give,” James suddenly announced.

“Eh?” Zig Zag grunted while giving him a confused look.

James shrugged and nodded towards the FBI agent. “How could you tell he was a tanuki and not just some half-breed?”

Zig Zag chuckled. “It’s the pants. See how heavily starched they are?”

“Huh?” the coyote grunted as he studied the tanuki again. Now that he looked, the pants did look pretty heavily starched. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Tanuki have huge balls,” she declared matter of factly, nodding again towards the agent. “Think tangerine to grapefruit sized and then take another look at how heavily starched the crotch area is. That’s to help camouflage them.”

James’ eyes got wide momentarily before he blinked at the FBI agent. He turned and gave Zig Zag an incredulous look. “You’re pulling my tail!”

“Honest to God,” she replied, crossing her heart and smiling. “I tell you, I’d pay a fortune to get one of them in my stables. Their climax scenes can be awe inspiring to watch.”

“No kidding!” Shaking his head again, he turned back towards Zig Zag. “So why haven’t you managed to hire one yet?”

Zig Zag shrugged. “They’re pretty rare outside of Japan. Hell, they’re pretty rare inside of Japan too, which is kind of the point. Being Japanese, they’re very cliquish and tend to only deal with their own kind. Just the thought of mating with another species is enough to make one an outcast over there. You can imagine what someone would have to give up to work in the industry.”

“Wow. I never knew that,” James replied with a slight frown. “I can see how that would tend to make them rather scarce.”

“Looks like it’s show time,” Zig Zag groaned as she watched Dr. Westphall approach with the others in tow.

“Ready?” the greyhound prompted.

“Yep. Let’s go,” Zig Zag replied, falling in step with the others. She hesitated for a moment before actually stepping into the room, to steel herself for what was to come. Standing up straight, she put on the same confident, businesslike air which she used for the press conferences during her trial. As she stepped through the doorway, the air was flooded with the sounds of cameras and flashes as press reporters photographed her entrance. As she approached the table, she saw Agent Atsushi holding her chair out for her. She glanced out at the mass of reporters and cameras as she settled herself in the chair.

Dr. Westphall opened a folder he’d carried in and removed a prepared statement. Clearing his throat, he waited for the crowd to settle down. “As you all know, at approximately eleven fifty-two yesterday morning, Miss Sheila Vixen was brought into the emergency room here at Ohio Valley General Hospital. At that time she was suffering from acute blood loss stemming from a placental abruption. She was transfused and transferred to the OB department where it was determined that an emergency cesarean section was required to deliver her kits and to stop the bleeding.

“The first kit, delivered at twelve twenty three, was a female weighing six pounds, four and a half ounces who we are calling Kit-X. The second, delivered at twelve twenty five, was a male weighing six pounds, eleven ounces who we are referring to as Kit-Y. Both kits are healthy and normal. They are currently under observation in the PICU. Miss Vixen has since been moved to a private room where she is recuperating.” He set the paper down and looked out at the press. “On my left is Doctor Dover, who was the OB on duty at the time. Next to him is Doctor Freedman, the staff psychiatrist who’s been handling Miss Vixen’s case. To my right is Miss Zumb… Zig Zag, who is Miss Vixen’s current legal guardian, and to her right is Agent Atsushi from the FBI. Are there any questions?”

Several reporters bid to ask the first question, only to lose out to a reporter for CNN. “Jack Humbull, CNN News. This is for Agent Atsushi. Can you comment on how Miss Vixen’s mental state may impact your case against Jimmy Zetti?”

“I’m afraid I’m unable to comment on the Zetti case at this time,” the tanuki tartly answered.

The next reporter called on, stood. “Mike Wolfen, Reuters. Doctor Freedman, I understand that until sometime this morning, Miss Vixen was being kept in the maximum-security wing of the psych ward. Is that true, why was she there and why has she since been moved?”

Doctor Freedman leaned forward to speak into his microphone. “Miss Vixen was placed in the maximum-security wing at the request of the FBI to ensure her safety. She was moved to a private room at Miss Zumbrowski’s request.”

“Mike Gooseclaw, New York Times. I noticed you were referring to the kits as Kit-X and Kit-Y. Why haven’t they been named yet?”

“At this point in time, Miss Vixen simply hasn’t chosen a name for them,” Doctor Westphall stated. “That’s not unusual, really. We’ve had females who didn’t decide on a name until it came time to discharge them.”

“James Tern. This is for Zig Zag. Since Miss Vixen isn’t mentally competent to care for her kits, what will happen to them? Will they be put in a foster home or possibly put up for adoption?”

“I’ll see that the kits are taken care of,” Zig Zag answered.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” the fur complained. “Who’s going to take care of them?”

“I will take care of them, personally,” Zig Zag said, clarifying her prior statement.

“You?” the reporter asked incredulously. “Do you seriously think you’re qualified to raise those kits?”

Zig Zag frowned at the reporter. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch what network you're with.”

“I’m with the Christian Evangelical Network.”

“I see,” Zig Zag replied with a nod. “So I take it from your question, you feel that I am somehow unfit to raise these kits?”

The fur stood his ground. “Considering your vocation, I don’t think it would be prudent for someone such as yourself to raise these kits.”

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing you don’t have a say in the decision,” Zig Zag sarcastically remarked, getting a chuckle from a few of the reporters in the room. “So tell me, is a young, sixteen year old female on crack, having her first kit without any education or support, much less a reliable means of income, more prudent a choice to raise a pair of kits? Maybe you think we should give the kits to whatever rapist got her pregnant?” She scowled at the reporter who’d since sat down. “To answer your question, I am qualified to take care of those kits. As soon as I was old enough, my mother had me fixing formulas for my brother and sister, feeding them, changing them, bathing them and dressing them. I took more care of them than my mother did, so yes---yes I am qualified to take care of these kits.”

“Carmichael Smith, NBC. Doctor Dover, listening to the description of the delivery, it sounds like there were no unusual complications, however my sources inside the hospital report that you were forced to perform an emergency hysterectomy on Miss Vixen. Is that true?”

The obstetrician turned and looked at Zig Zag who appeared to be shocked by the question. A second later she looked in his direction and gave a small nod, before turning away. The doctor nodded to the reporter. “We were unable to stop the bleeding through conventional methods. After having transfused almost seven units of packed blood cells, we were given no choice but to remove the uterus.”

“Why didn’t you just say so before?” the reporter asked.

“We didn’t think it was appropriate to discuss something like that in such a public forum,” the doctor replied coldly.

Zig Zag’s mind wandered from the press conference. She had no sooner nodded her head than suddenly remembered the doctor telling her that Sheila didn’t know about the hysterectomy. She couldn’t imagine what must be going thou the vixen’s head right now if she were watching the press conference, and if she knew Sheila, she was watching the conference. What would it be like for her friend to suddenly find out that she’d never again have kits or the possibility of kits? The feeling of incompleteness must be overwhelming for her. Zig Zag glanced over at the doorway where she saw James standing and was about to signal him when the director tapped her arm. “Eh?” she grunted realizing that she must have missed a question. “I’m sorry, what was the question?”

“How much longer do you plan on keeping Miss Vixen here, and once she’s discharged where will she be taken?”

Zig Zag nodded. “At this point the doctors feel that she’ll be ready to leave the hospital as early as Monday. As of now, we have no solid destination other than Columbus in mind; however my lawyer is currently investigating various private care facilities where she can recuperate fully from her ordeal.”

“You’re talking about a mental institution, right?” the reporter prompted.

“No,” Zig Zag declared with a shake of her head. “We’re looking for something more along the lines of a halfway house or other private facility where she can get a little therapy while at the same time not feeling like a prisoner.” She paused and frowned. “Sheila was kept locked up in a room not much bigger than an average closet, and only let out to either do menial labor around the estate or to be raped. She was often beaten for not responding quickly enough to orders, or for not anticipating the needs of her captors. After an ordeal like that, the last thing I want to do is put her in a position of feeling like a prisoner again.”

Zig Zag’s mind wandered from the press conference as she wondered again what must be going through Sheila’s head.

Father Anatol pushed open the door to Sheila’s room and stepped through. He’d barely intercepted the orderlies as they were preparing to enter the room. Convincing them to let him handle the situation had taken some fast-talking, but he had succeeded. Now, seeing the room for the first time, he could understand why the nurse had sent for them. Sheila had taken the tray with her lunch and thrown it at the door, along with several other items that had been by her bed.

Stepping carefully around the mess on the floor, Anatol made his way towards the vixen who sat on the room-wide windowsill, with her knees pulled up to her stomach and naked as the day she had been born. “Sheila,” he quietly said, announcing his presence.

“Go away,” the vixen replied angrily.

“I can’t do that, Sheila,” the priest declared as he walked over to take a seat near her on the windowsill. “There’s a pair of rather large orderlies and a nurse who want to take you and tie you down to that bed for your own protection.”

Sheila’s eyelids narrowed to slits. “Fuck them. I’d like to see them try.”

“Sheila, I know that you’re upset…”

“Upset!” the vixen barked angrily. “Upset doesn’t even begin to describe how I fucking feel!”

“Please,” the priest begged in a calming voice. “Getting angry won’t help anything.”

“And neither will staying calm!” Sheila slammed her fist against the window, causing it to vibrate. “God damn it! Do you have any idea what it’s like to have your insides ripped out like that? To know that I’ll never be able to have kits again?”

“But you already have two beautiful kits…”

“Fuck them!” Sheila spat violently. “They’re the reason I lost my fucking womb in the first place!”

Anatol frowned. “That’s not fair, Sheila.”

“Fuck fair and fuck you, too!” she shouted suddenly standing up. “Look at me,” she said, pointing to the scar on her abdomen. “Look what those fucking butchers did to me.”

Anatol turned away. “I can’t.”

“Look at me!” she again demanded.

“Please, Sheila. I can’t do that.”

“Am I that horrible to look at?” she whimpered.

“No. It’s quite the opposite,” the priest confessed. He stood and retrieved her hospital gown from the corner of the bed where she’d discarded it and tried to hand it to her while not looking. “Please. I would appreciate it if you would put this on.”

Sheila ignored the gown and plopped back down on the windowsill, resting her head against the glass as she looked outside. “What was I thinking? You’re a fucking priest. You probably don’t even like females. Like someone like you could ever find me attractive.”

“I do find you attractive. Incredibly attractive.” Anatol turned and looked Sheila in the eye. “When I was seventeen, I saw one of your movies and got a crush on you. I fantasized that after I’d turn eighteen, I’d pack my bags and move down to Columbus and go to work for Zig Zag, not to be in movies, but to be with you.” He sat down by her feet and tossed the gown onto her stomach. He then leaned backwards against the glass and looked up at the ceiling. “You were all I could think about back then. Seeing you like this now---it’s hard.”

“So what happened? Why didn’t you come to Columbus?” the vixen asked, sitting up a little more.

“I became a priest,” Anatol quipped.

Sheila kicked him. “I know that. Why? If you had it so hard for me, why become a priest? Surely you knew that Zig Zag would hire you at the drop of a hat.”

“I don’t know,” Anatol replied with a shrug. “Why does someone become a fireman, or a doctor?” He looked down at the cross and rosary which hung around his neck. “In my case, I think I felt a calling from God. Something pulling me in that direction.” He looked at Sheila and gave her a quirky smile. “Maybe I went into the priesthood so that I could be here to help you now. Maybe this is all part of God’s grand plan.”

“Well if losing my uterus is all part of God’s grand plan, then he can take his plan and shove it up his ass,” she grumbled.

“You’re not the first female to have this happen, you know,” Anatol started to say.

“Arden wasn’t the first guy to get his nuts cut off with a knife either, but somehow I don’t think that was any consolation at the time,” Sheila replied tersely.

Anatol winced and nodded. “Point taken. What I’m trying to say is that you can’t let this define who you are. You’re still a very beautiful and attractive female, with or without a womb.” He shook his head and glanced away. “Now will you please put your gown back on? I’m finding it rather difficult to concentrate on the conversation with you sitting there, naked like that.”

Sheila looked down at the gown and picked at it for a minute, but didn’t put it on. “Anatol?”

The priest’s ears swiveled in her direction. “Eh?”

“Do you love me?” Sheila asked, looking at the priest with eyes that pleaded.

“I beg your pardon?” Anatol’s head snapped around as he gave her a wide-eyed look. “I---I’m a priest. I love all of God’s children,” he stammered out before looking away.

Sheila dropped her feet to the floor and scooted over to sit next to him. “No. I mean, are you in love with me?”

His mind a raging turmoil of conflicting emotions, Anatol desperately searched for a way out without resorting to a lie. “Sheila, I---I can’t,” he stammered.

“Why?” Sheila demanded, “Why can’t you love me?”

Anatol gave the vixen a pained look. “I’ve dedicated my life to the priesthood. I’ve taken vows, including one of celibacy.” He reached down and took her hands in his. “Please understand, you’re asking for something that I can’t give you, no matter how much I may want to. Please, don’t make me choose between you and the priesthood.”

Sheila blinked back tears for a moment before throwing herself bodily at the priest, wrapping her arms around him. She buried her muzzle into his shoulder and began to cry.

Momentarily taken aback by her sudden embrace, Anatol simply stared down at the vixen, his arms held well away from the female. Cautiously he wrapped his arms around her in a comforting embrace, and began to gently stroke her fur as she continued to cry onto his shoulder. The sound of the door opening startled him, causing him to look up just in time to see Zig Zag standing in the doorway with a shocked expression on her face. He winced and moaned, “Oh boy.”

Logan flipped on the light switch to his office as he walked in. Pushing the door closed with his foot, he set his newspaper and coffee down on the desk before taking a seat. He spent a few minutes flipping through the small pile of phone messages that were waiting for him in his in-box. Assured that there wasn’t anything of critical importance, he tossed the pile back into the box and reached for the phone. He hit the speaker button before dialing a phone number and leaned back.

“ZZ Studios, how may I direct your call?”

“Hi! This is Logan Furbody at U-62. Is Zig Zag in?”

“No sir, I’m afraid she’s not in at the moment. Can I direct you to her voice-mail?”

Logan frowned and steepled his fingers. “No, I don’t think so. Do you have any idea when she’ll be in?”

“I’m sorry sir, I’m afraid that I’m not allowed to give that information out. I can take a message and make sure she calls you back.”

“No thanks,” the ferret said, shaking his head. “I’ll try again some other time.”

“OK. Have a nice day.”

Logan hit the flash button and dialed a new number.

“Law offices.”

“David Leery, please,” Logan said in a business voice.

“May I ask who’s calling?”

“This is Logan Furbody at U-62.”

“One moment please.”

There was a short delay before Logan heard a familiar voice on the other end. “This is David.”

“Hey, David. Logan here. Listen, I was wondering if you had any idea when Zig Zag might be getting back into town.”

“Yes, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”

“Aw, come on, Dave. I’m not going to use it for anything devious. I need to re-schedule a time with her for the editing of that interview she did.”

“I understand, but I can’t help. She gave specific orders that I wasn’t to discuss anything with any reporters, especially you.”

“Especially me?” Logan asked incredulously. “You mean she named me by name?”

“That’s right. By all rights I should have had my secretary field the call, but really wouldn’t feel right doing that to you.”

Logan let out a low growl and cursed. “What the fuck? After all I did, she’s shutting me out now?”

“I don’t know what’s going on with her right now,” the lawyer replied. “Sorry. I wish there was something I could tell you that would help, but I’ve got my orders.”

“Don’t sweat it,” the reporter said, accepting the momentary defeat. “I’ll deal with it.”

“OK. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah, later,” Logan replied, hanging up the phone. He pursed his lips and glared in the general direction of the phone. “So she wants to play it that way, eh? Well two can play that game,” he commented to himself. Reaching out, he hit the intercom on the phone and dialed a number.

“Editing, Troy here.”

“Troy, this is Logan. Listen, I want to do an edit on the Zig Zag interview. You have space in your schedule for it?”

“Sure. Let me check,” the voice on the other end replied. The sound of flipping pages could be heard coming from the speaker before the other furson spoke again. “Yeah. It looks like the only person scheduled in Studio-F today is Frank and that’s just until nine thirty. The rest of the day is clear. It’s only got four decks to work with, but if I remember right, you only had three cameras going right?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Logan replied smiling. “Great. Put me down for the rest of the day and let me know as soon as Frank’s done with the equipment. I’m going to be getting creative with this edit and want to do it right.”

“Dude,” the voice on the other end drawled, “you’re sounding, like, totally evil right now, you know that?”

“I am?” the reporter asked with a sinister grin. “Good.”

“Good morning,” Anatol cheerfully announced as he glanced inside the van that James had rented for their drive back. Inside, he saw it was loaded with various baby supplies from a double stroller, packs of diapers, and formula to clothing and other miscellaneous baby supplies they might need. Two baby seats had already been installed in the middle of the two bench seats in the back. He turned to Zig Zag and smiled. “It looks like you’re about ready to leave.”

“You wish,” the tiger striped skunk growled menacingly.

Anatol’s ears perked up. “Trouble in paradise?”

Zig Zag scowled at the priest as she chewed on the inside of her lip. “I’ll give you three guesses, and the first two don’t count.”

Without giving it any conscious thought, he immediately said, “Sheila.”

“Bingo!” Zig Zag replied, snarling. She held up her thumb and index finger about an inch apart. “I’m this far from having them toss her in a straight jacket and strapping her in the back.” She let out a loud snarl that startled someone walking by the van, causing them to hurry on. “Why can’t anything be easy with that female?”

“What’s the problem this time?” Anatol asked.

“Sheila refuses to travel in the same vehicle as her kits,” Zig Zag stated. “She won’t do it. Says she doesn’t want to be anywhere near them.”

Anatol rubbed the bridge of his snout. “I’ll have another talk with her,” he sighed resignedly. Turning from the van he entered the hospital and made his way up to Sheila’s room. Without bothering to knock, he pushed open the door and walked in to see Sheila sitting in her favorite perch on the windowsill wearing a t-shirt and shorts. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded.

Sheila frowned at the priest. “Good morning to you, too, asshole.”

“I’m not the asshole here,” Anatol replied. “I’m not the one sitting up here, refusing to go home after agreeing to go by van.”

“That’s before I found out you weren’t going to be coming with us,” she stated, crossing her arms.

“Sheila, you don’t need me any more,” the priest declared. “Zig Zag and James are both more than capable of taking care of you.”

Sheila’s ears wilted. “But I don’t feel safe around them. Besides, you promised me that you’d stay with me until I got settled home to Columbus,” she pleaded. “You promised!”

His shoulders slumped in defeat. “You’re right, I promised,” the priest replied. “And if you insist, I will come with you.”

“Fuck you!” the vixen spat. “If it’s that much of an imposition, then go back to your fucking monastery or wherever it is you're from and don’t come back!” She turned her back on him and resumed looking out the window.

Anatol walked over to where she sat and crossed his arms. “Bitch,” he barked.

Sheila’s head snapped around. “What did you call me?”

“I called you a bitch,” the priest replied. “Which is exactly what you’re being; a whiny little bitch who’s throwing a tantrum because she can’t have things the way she wants. I hate to break it to you Sheila, that trick isn’t going to work with me.”

She climbed down off the windowsill and faced Anatol. “Look, is it so difficult for you people to understand I don’t want to be anywhere near those kits?”

“They’re your kits, Sheila! You need to grow up and start taking responsibility for your life, good or bad,” he declared.

Sheila crossed her arms as her muzzle rose, giving her a look of superiority. “You’re right, they’re my kits. Which means that I should make the decision what happens to them. I do not want those kits! Is that so hard to understand? Put them in a foster home or put them up for adoption, but whatever you do, I don’t want them near me.”

“You may not want that now, but six months or a year down the line, you might think differently,” he gently explained, trying to reason with her. “Zig Zag is simply trying to give you time to get your head on straight before you make a final decision that will effect not only your life but your kits.”

Sheila spun around and slammed the edge of her fist against the window. “Goddamn it!” she snarled. “It’s like I’m still a fucking prisoner. I don’t get any fucking choices about what happens in my life. All I’ve done is upgrade to a better quality of captivity,” she sobbed.

Anatol let out a long deep sigh. Reaching out, he put a hand on her shoulder, turned her around and pulled her to him, embracing her as she cried. “Shhhh. It’ll be all right,” he quietly said, comforting her. “I’m sorry. We never wanted you to feel that way. If it means so much to you, I’ll come with you to Columbus and make sure you get settled in. I’ll also make sure that Zig Zag respects what you want, as long as it’s not about the kits.” He let her go as she suddenly pushed him away. “Sheila, they deserve to have a good life of their own. Zig Zag wants to make sure they have the best possible chance at being happy. This isn’t about making you do anything you don’t want to; it’s about her making sure they’re OK because they’re family to her, just like you are. Can you see what I mean?”

Sheila sniffed and nodded her head. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Anatol wiped a tear from her face and smiled. “All right. Now why don’t you go wash your face and get your things, and I’ll meet you down at the van, OK?”

“Ok,” she replied, sniffing again. She turned and walked into the bathroom to freshen up.

Anatol took his hat off and ran his hand through his headfur before replacing the hat as he walked out the door. Returning to the van he saw an annoyed Zig Zag and nervous looking James waiting for him.

“Well?” Zig Zag snapped.

“She will be right down,” the priest declared.

“It’s about time,” the skunk complained.

“Also, I’ll be coming with you to Columbus, if you don’t mind,” Anatol said, surprising the two. “I still have a couple of weeks to my sabbatical, and I’ve never been to Columbus.”

Zig Zag frowned at the priest. “I thought you said you were going to avoid being around her after what happened on Saturday.”

Anatol nodded. “I did, but right now she’s feeling like she has no control about what happens in her life, especially where the kits are concerned,” he explained.

“That’s too bad, because she’s not going to make decisions where they’re concerned,” Zig Zag stated.

“I know, and she understands that, but she does want to feel that she has some control over her life, and right now that’s not happening.” Anatol frowned and nervously glanced back towards the hospital entrance to make sure Sheila wasn’t behind him. “To be honest, she feels that you’re being too controlling.”

“I’m what?” Zig Zag yelped.

“I’ve seen it, Zig Zag. Over the last few days, you’ve been telling her what to do rather than asking her or making suggestions,” he explained, bracing for a backlash.

“I have not!” Zig Zag snapped back.

“Yes you have,” James replied.

Zig Zag’s head snapped around as she looked at the coyote. “What?”

James nodded. “You have been giving a lot of orders, lately. To all of us,” James said, frowning.

Zig Zag swallowed as she glanced back and forth between the two males and then nodded. “You’re right. I guess I have been in take-charge mode.”

“That’s one of the reasons I’ve agreed to go to Columbus with you, to help make sure that doesn’t happen again,” Anatol explained, glancing back towards the hospital again and this time seeing Sheila walking out with a small bag of stuff.

“What’s the other reason,” James asked, eyeing the priest warily.

“Because I promised Sheila back in New York that I would stay with her all the way to Columbus,” Anatol replied with a shrug, “and I keep my promises.”

James nodded, accepting the answer, though he still eyed the priest warily.

“Hey! What’s with all the serious faces?” Sheila cheerfully asked.

Zig Zag sighed. “Anatol just reminded me about what kind of a control freak I can be when I get on a roll.”

“Oh,” the vixen replied, eyeing the van with the two baby carriers strapped in. “Well, I guess we better get this show on the road. The less time I have to spend in that box with them, the happier I think we’ll all be, right?” She tossed her bag in the back and climbed into the rear most bench seat of the van. “I call window seat,” she said, scooting over to sit next to the window.

Anatol smiled as he climbed in to sit next to her in the back. “Guess that means I get the door,” he replied, reaching out to help close the door.

Zig Zag and James eyed each other in a moment of silent communication before splitting up. Zig Zag climbed into the passenger seat while James climbed into the driver’s.

“If you don’t mind,” Anatol said as James started the van, “I’d appreciate it if you’d swing by the rectory so I can pick up my things.”

“Can do,” James replied, putting the van in gear and pulling away.

Anatol glanced over the seatback in front of him and checked on the two sleeping kits, to make sure they were secured properly. As he sat back, he felt Sheila take his hand and hold onto it. Glancing up at her, he saw her smile at him.

Up front, James watched the pair in the rearview mirror and frowned.