STEPHANIE: 

      I sit here next to Ash, looking around the room at the rest of the group seated around the table, chatting away like they've known each other for years, and I can't stop myself from smiling. Everyone is getting along wonderfully, in spite of Ash's worries that Talia and the others would dislike or resent him for taking Philip's place in my life, but it's been completely the opposite. Talia and Adele have both caught me alone at different points to tell me how sweet and charming he is, and he's bonded with Henry and Simon over soccer, so they insist that I bring him along the next time I come to visit, so they can take Ash to a Tottenham Hotspur match. 

      Jamie likes him, too, and he caught all of us off guard this afternoon with a surprisingly grown-up observation. He told Ash, "I was goin' to not like you, cause now Auntie Steffy won'ts want to come back home, but I'm nots gonna do it now. You's a good boyfwend for her, cuz you treats her nice, like Daddy treats Mummy, and you don'ts make fun of her pretties, like Unca Pill used to did."

      Everyone in the family looks shocked, and even I'm a little surprised. It's true that Philip thought of my work as more of a "pastime" than a career, and had mentioned more than once that it didn't necessarily seem "ladylike" to him, but none of us ever realized that Jamie had ever heard him, or had understood if he did. But after hearing Ash talking to everybody about his coffee mug and his lamp, and showing off the pictures in his phone, he's managed to figure out, at four years old, that Philip's attitude left quite a bit to be desired.

      Ash turns to look at him, and answers him very seriously. "No, I don't, because I think she does a very good job making pretty things for people to look at, and use. That's a good talent for somebody to have, because pretty things make people happy, and if you can have a job making someone happy, that's the best kind to have, don't you think?"

      Everyone agrees, then Talia jumps in, telling Ash and the others the story of how I first met her and Alice in the pottery shop. I join in to contribute my take on the situation, and when we're done, Simon starts asking Ash about what touring is like, so he details a couple of amusing incidents. Then, as he's cracking everyone up recounting the time Andy basically decided to do a Batman impersonation in the middle of a set, first Macy, then Lylah, stop laughing. They're both staring across the table, over our heads, seeming to be somewhat startled at first, then Lylah's face takes on her "supremely pissed-off" look, while Macy's goes completely blank, which is never a good sign. Ash sees this about the same time I do, and starts to turn in his seat, but before he can manage this, I'm stunned to hear a very familiar voice say, "Well, I haven't seen things this cozy for quite awhile now. Is there room for one more?"

      I absolutely freeze for a few seconds, and I notice that everyone else seems to have reacted the same way, but then I feel my temper roar up and I spin myself up out of my chair so quickly that it falls onto its side. "What the hell are you doing here!?" I snap. "And how did you even get in? I didn't hear the doorbell ring, and I damn sure know that nobody got up to let you in!"

      "The door wasn't locked, so I let myself in," Philip replies, offering me a grin as he uses his index finger to push his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "And as to what I'm doing here, I'd think that would be obvious. I'm here for the same reason as the rest of the family: to get matters settled and get you back to London, where you belong."

      "You can't possibly be serious," I snort. "I'm sure I'll go back to visit now and again, but I've got my life set up here now, and I have no intention of moving back to London. Especially not with you, you sneaking, two-faced, lying cheat! You should know me well enough by now to know that I don't make a habit of repeating my mistakes."

      "Yes, I suppose I can understand why you might be a bit peeved with me, under the circumstances," he says, in the annoyingly calm voice he always uses when he's trying to get someone to see things his way. "And I admit that you were absolutely right about Cyndee, she really is nothing but a money-grubbing tramp. I suppose someone has told you by now how she cheated on me with Ronald, yes?"

      "Isn't that kind of like the pot calling the kettle black?" Macy snarls. "Agreed, Cyndee is a lower life form, and always has been, but you have no room to talk, since you got yourself into this situation by not being able to keep it in your pants in the first place! You're not welcome here, so you can just turn your ass around and get out, or I'm calling the cops!"

      He actually seems to be surprised, and replies, "I don't see why you're getting so worked up here, Macy. The rest of my family is here in the room with us, and I'm sure that someone has broached the subject by now, so it can't really be that much of a surprise."

      "Philip, you can't honestly think that they came all the way to Los Angeles to talk me into taking your useless ass back, because unlike you, they're smart enough to know that it would be a wasted trip," I retort. "So let me explain this in words you can understand: I no longer have any interest in you, because I've found someone who's actually worth my time. And even if I hadn't, I don't trust you as far as I could toss Macy's pickup, so I wouldn't get into a relationship with you again if we were the last two survivors of a zombie apocalypse!"

      He just looks at me for several seconds, then spares Ash a brief glance and a slight curl of his lip before he starts walking toward me. "Yes, so I see," he murmurs. "Oh, well, things like this do happen. Might actually be for the best, when you think about it for a moment." I almost sigh with relief, because I allow myself to think for a split second that he's finally decided to be reasonable. But that instantly changes when he says, "Honestly, it's actually a bit of a relief, because now neither of us can twit the other about what's happened the last few months.  We're even now, so we can just let bygones be bygones, and get on with our life."

      "Have you completely lost your mind!?" Talia blurts out. "What on God's green earth makes you think that she's fool enough to give you the time of day after you went sneaking behind her back with that underdressed little trollop?"

      "Really, Talia?" he drawls, raising an eyebrow as he turns to look at her. "I honestly would have thought that you'd be on my side, since you've always been so keen on the idea of having her in the family."

      "Yes, I was," she fires back. "But that was before I knew that you were a complete and utter wanker."

      I glance around the table at everyone, and only now does it register that the kids are still here at the table, hearing everything. I turn and dash into the kitchen, snatch the lid off of the cookie jar I keep on the counter, and scoop out several cookies. I grab a couple of juice bottles from the fridge, run back to the dining room and hold a handful of cookies out to each of the boys. "Dori, since the boys are pretty much done with their dinner, maybe they'd like to watch some cartoons, or a movie," I tell her, handing her the drinks. "If you want to take them to my room, they can watch TV and eat their dessert in there until everyone is ready to go. Just go left through that archway in there, and it's the door at the end of the hall. But no cookies on the bed."

      She quickly agrees, snagging her glass of iced tea and herding them into the living room. As the boys thunder across the floor, we can hear Shane calling out, "C'mon, Mommy, wet's hurry! Maybe 'Paw Patrol' is still on!"

      Once I'm sure that they're out of earshot, I turn back to Philip and say, "Get on with our life, huh? In case you haven't noticed, jackass, I'm getting on with my life just fine. Fucking fabulously, as a matter of fact. Now you just need to carry your sorry ass back to London and get on with yours."

      "But that's what I need you for, Stephanie," he replies. "None of my plans will work if you don't come back and marry me, like we planned."

      I hear a snort from behind me, then Henry comments, "Really? You actually have a plan now, when you've basically been... what is that term that Stephanie is so fond of? Oh, yes, you've been 'half-assing' everything for the past five months while that little slag you were idiot enough to marry utterly ruined your credit, and cost you your position by sneaking around behind your back shagging your bloody boss, along with God knows who else. Honestly, Philip, you were more mature as a schoolboy than you are as a grown man! But by all means, please share these 'plans' of yours with the rest of us, we're all ears."

      Philip has been sort of shrinking back as Henry was speaking, but his face brightens up at the last sentence, and he immediately starts talking. "Well, yes, I have to admit, she has caused me a few setbacks, but those are fairly easily settled. I have it all figured out. First, you come back to London, we move back into our flat, and we'll reinstate our engagement."

      "You're completely striking out so far," I cut in. "No, no, and hell no!"

      A small scowl is the only sign that he heard me as he continues, "And since your birthday was last month, I know that you've received your inheritance, or soon will, so we'll use that as seed money to set up my own firm. And then, you can put aside your pretense of being a 'career woman' and stop grubbing about in the mud and making it look like I can't support us. We'll start our family, and you can stay at home, learn to dress properly,  and just be a mum."

      "Ooh, aren't you the smooth talker?" Ash interjects, with so much acid dripping from his voice that I almost expect to see holes appear in the floor. "Can't imagine what woman could resist a dude who makes fun of her appearance, and her career, and then expects her to bankroll his. I'm surprised you aren't having to elbow 'em out of your way."

      "I don't believe your opinion was asked for," Philip snaps. "This is between Stephanie and myself, and none of your business, so I'll thank you to bloody well stay out of it!"

      "Not gonna happen," Ash retorts. "Y'know, I've spent the day with your family, and they seem to be really cool, decent people, so I can't quite understand how they wound up with an absolute prick like you in the family. But Steph is my girlfriend now, and she's told you that she doesn't want you back, so it's as much my business as yours."

      "Only because I made the mistake of marrying Cyndee instead of just keeping her as a mistress!" Philip shouts. "But soon, you'll be unnecessary to requirements, because she's coming back home with me!"

      Everyone goes dead silent, and he instantly realizes that he's completely fucked up, and said something he didn't intend to say out loud. His mouth opens and closes several times as he tries to figure out how to recover, and I say, "So, let me get this straight. You actually think that if we had gotten married, that I would have put up with you having a mistress? Holy shit, Philip, you're an even bigger moron than I thought you were! I'm going to say this just once more, so listen carefully: I'm happy here, with my work and with Ash, I have no interest in you anymore, and there is no way in hell I'm getting involved with you again. So you need to turn yourself around and go back out the same way you came in."

      "And you need to do it ASA-fuckin'-P, unless you want to spend the night in jail," Macy announces. "I've already asked you to leave, so if you're not out of here in the next sixty seconds, I'm calling the cops."

      But instead of going toward the door, he grabs my arm and spins me in closer to him. "No, Stephanie, you listen carefully," he snarls, then takes hold of my other arm and shakes me several times. "My family has wanted us together since we met, and that's the only way things will go back to normal for me, so that is what's going to happen. Can't you for one minute stop being such a selfish twat and think about someone but yourself? No, obviously not, with your sister and this bloke prodding you on, so let's go outside and sort this out in private."

      Ash, Lylah, and Simon all start moving from the table as Macy taps her phone, but before any of them take more than two steps, something jostles me to the side, and Philip suddenly starts shrieking at the top of his lungs, "Get off of me! Let go of me, you sodding cur!"

     The only answer he gets is a low growl, and I realize that my sweet, playful, cuddlebug of a dog currently has his jaws clamped firmly on Philip's left forearm. He responds by letting go of me and using his free hand to punch Mickey directly on his burn scar, which causes him to yelp and let go of Philip's arm. But his reprieve is very short-lived, because a split-second later, something whizzes past my shoulder, and bundle of apricot-colored fur wraps itself around his head, making a noise like a boiling kettle.

      Sinatra is draped over the top of his head like a bad toupee, using one paw to claw repeatedly at Philip's face as he sinks his teeth into the top of his right ear. He reaches up, attempting to shove the cat off of him, but Ash comes up behind him and locks his arms around Philip's. "If you so much as twitch, I'll pull your fucking shoulders out of their sockets," he declares, in such a calm, quiet tone that it's even more frightening than if he'd yelled.

      Simon comes up beside them, and for a second I think that he's going to try to get the cat off of his head, but he just shakes his head and says, "Oh dear, I think this might leave a mark. You know something, Philip? I could be wrong, but I don't think they like you." 

      Lylah puts on the oven mitts I left on the sideboard and comes up to detach Sinatra, muttering, "Good thing we already got him his shots. No telling what the poor little guy could catch." And as soon as she carries him out of the way, still spitting and struggling, I punch Philip squarely in the mouth.

      "I told you what would happen if you were ever stupid enough to put your hands on me, but obviously you don't have brains enough to listen," I remind him. He just gapes at me in disbelief for a second, blood starting to trickle from his lip, and before he can actually respond, I bring my knee up into his crotch, doubling him over. "And that's for hurting my dog, you worthless, narcissistic... fuckweasel!"

      Ash lets go of his arms, and he drops to the floor in a fetal position, sobbing and wheezing. I go over to check on Mickey, and see that Philip's rugby-team ring has split the skin where he punched him, and he's dripping blood on the floor. This makes me so angry I can barely breathe, and I turn to go lay into him again, but then I see that the noise has drawn Dori and the kids back to the living room, so I manage to restrain myself, because I don't want them to see me lose my temper like that. I take a breath, then say, "Could one of you go get a towel out of my bathroom, please?"

      Shane turns and darts down the hall, coming back a few seconds later waving the hand towel that was hanging by my sink. "Here, Steph'nie!" he shouts. "Is this the one you wants?"

      "That's fine, sweetie," I assure him. I take it from him and fold it, then place it against Mickey's face, scratching his ears to distract him. "But now I need you boys to do me a favor, okay?" I ask. "Can you two keep this on Mickey's face while I go over there and get things sorted out? Don't press on it, because that will hurt him, just hold it gently, so he doesn't bleed all over."

      Shane carefully puts his hand on the towel, allowing me to let go, while Jamie puts his arm around Mickey and croons, "It's awight, Mick, we takes care of you. There's a good lad." I leave him to the boys for the moment, and walk back over to Philip, who is now attempting to sit up.

      "All right, you've made your point," he groans. "Help me up, and I'll see myself out."

      "Not a chance in hell, asshole!" Ash retorts. "The cops are on their way, so I guess you won't have to worry about where you're gonna sleep tonight." He reaches out to take hold of my hand, and as he does, I see his eyes widen, and he shifts direction to lift the edge of my T-shirt sleeve. He mumbles something I can't quite make out, then lets go and bends down to grab the collar of Philip's shirt. Philip looks completely astonished as Ash yanks him up to a kneeling position, then lets go of the shirt in favor of a fistful of hair. 

      "Take a fucking look at what you've done, asshole!" he hisses. "She's going to have bruises on her arms from you grabbing her like that. No real man feels the need to treat a woman that way! And you're not going to do it to Steph again, because I swear to you, if I ever see you anywhere near her again, they'll pick up what's left of you with a fucking Shop-Vac! Do I make myself clear?"

      Before he gets a chance to respond, the doorbell starts ringing insistently, and Dori runs over to answer it, coming back to the dining room followed by four cops. One of them immediately demands that Ash let go of Philip, while another gets on his radio to call for an ambulance. Then, before they have a chance to ask a single question, Philip starts crawling across the floor toward them, pointing first at me and Ash, then at Macy and Lylah. "Thank heaven you're here, constables," he blurts. "Those two assaulted me, and the two by the counter sicced their animals on me! My family witnessed the whole thing, and I'd like to file charges."

      "Philip Alastair Grantham-Kemp, I've never heard such a blatant lie!" Adele shouts, storming around the table to stand in front of him. "That is nothing close to what happened, and if you think that any of us are going to support your nonsense, then you're sadly mistaken!" 

      He looks at her in absolute astonishment, then whines, "Mum, how could you? I'm your son, you're supposed to support me!"

      "Yes, you are my son, even though you've made it rather difficult to be proud of that fact as of late," she agrees. "I gave birth to you, and I will always love you, but right now I don't like you at all. You weren't raised to be a selfish, entitled jackass, and if you think that we have any intention of encouraging you in that endeavor, you're about to be sadly disappointed."

      The cops start splitting us up then, with one of them taking him outside while the others take our statements. As I'm waiting, I call the vet's cell number to see what I should do for Mickey until they open up in the morning, and he tells me to call him back when we're done with the police, and he'll meet me at his office to have a look at him. 

      One of the officers comes over to question me and Ash, and when I mention him grabbing and shaking me, she asks me to pull up my sleeves so she can take pictures. Then, as she's doing this, we suddenly hear Talia shout Jamie's name, and turn around to see him dashing toward the front door. Everyone takes off following him, and we crowd out onto the porch just in time to see him dodge around the EMT's and kick Philip squarely in the shin, yelling, "You maked ouchies on Auntie Steffy, and you hurted poor Mick's face, and maked him has blood come out. You's a meanie, and I don'ts like you! We's not mates no more!"

      Philip actually flinches at this, and for a second I almost feel sorry for him, because I know he really does love Jamie. But he's brought it on himself by basically setting Jamie aside for Cyndee, so he's just going to have to accept the consequences of his actions, and hopefully pull his head out of his ass and grow up a little. 

      Jamie charges back up onto the porch, sobbing, and flings himself at Simon, who picks him up and starts whispering to him, trying to calm him down. One of the EMT's comes up to look at my arms, and agrees with me when I say I don't feel like I need to go to the hospital, then they get ready to load Philip into the ambulance to go get him stitched up, since Mickey gave him a fairly serious bite on the wrist, and Sinatra actually bit completely through the top of his ear, as well as making a pretty nasty gash on his cheek. 

      As they do, one of the cops asks if we want to press charges, which causes Macy and Lylah to look at me, as if it's entirely my decision. I open my mouth to speak, but I'm not entirely sure how to respond until Henry says, "Do whatever you think best, dear. Don't feel as though you need to let him off because of us. He's behaved abominably, and we'll not hold it against you if you hold him accountable."

      Talia and Adele both chime in their agreement, so Macy, Lylah, and I say that we do, and they call in charges for assault, trespassing, making a false report, and unlawful entry, since he didn't actually break in. They ask us to come in tomorrow to sign formal statements, then leave to follow the ambulance to the hospital. Once they've gone, we all go back inside, and everyone starts gathering up their things to leave. I thank Dori and Shane for being so helpful, and agree to get together with them next week to go shopping. Then, after they've gone, Henry and Adele start apologizing for Philip's  behavior, and we all assure them that they have nothing to be sorry for, because he's a grown man, and they're no longer responsible for him. They invite us all to come out for lunch with them after Henry's meeting tomorrow, and we accept. Lylah and Macy offer to drive them back to the hotel while Ash and I take Mickey to the vet, instead of making them wait for a cab or an Uber, so I let them take the Highlander while Ash and I load Mickey into the back seat of his Mustang.

      I call Dr. Morales to let him know we're on the way, then climb into the backseat so I can keep the towel on, and not have him bleed all over. He crawls under my arm and lays the right side of his head on my shoulder, snuggling up as close as he can to me and whimpering just a bit. Ash glances back for just a second as we stop at a traffic light, and inquires, "Everything all right back there?"

      "He still seems to be bleeding a fair amount, so I don't know if he'll need stitches or anything, or if they can even do that on this burned area."

      "I'm sure that he'll be able to do something, babe. He did manage to pull him through the original burns, remember? If he can't, we'll find someone who can, because he deserves the best treatment he can get, no matter how much it costs. And as soon as he's able to handle it, I'm buying this guy the best steak I can get ahold of, too, because now I know I don't have to worry about you being safe if I'm not around."

      "I think he'll enjoy that," I reply. "But I think Sinatra deserves a little something, too."

      "Yeah, you're probably right. I'll get him some salmon, or maybe chicken," he agrees. "But I think his motivation was a little different. Mickey went after Philip when he put his hands on you, but Sinatra didn't get involved until he heard Mickey yelp. Mickey was protecting you, but the cat was protecting him."

      "You could be right, but that still gives him points, in my opinion. If he hadn't gone after Philip, Mickey might have tried again, and gotten hurt even worse, so I'm grateful to him for that."

      We pull into the clinic parking lot, and Ash gets out and comes around to open the back door. I have to almost forcibly pull away from Mickey to be able to get out, because he doesn't want to let go. And when Ash picks him up to carry him inside, he whines until I put the towel back on his face, then wraps his paw around my wrist so I can't move away from him.

      As I reach out to open the door to the clinic, Ash pauses for a second, looking at Mickey holding on to my arm. "Y'know, I'm not sure whether it's funny or sad to think that a dog understands more about loyalty than some people do. I mean, this guy is normally a marshmallow, but he was willing to do whatever he needed to do to keep you safe, while the person who supposedly cared about you and wanted to marry you not only cheated on you and dumped you for a gold-digging bitch, but then decided that violence was the way to solve the problems he brought on himself. What kind of fucked-up shit is that?"

      We go inside, and walk down the hallway to the exam room, where Dr. Morales is already waiting for us. As he carefully sets Mickey down on the table, I lean over to kiss his cheek and say, "I'm not sure of the answer to that one myself, but it does make some things a lot clearer to me." He raises an eyebrow in sort of a quizzical manner, and I clarify, "I'm not really sure anymore what I ever saw in Philip, but the relationship wasn't a complete waste of time, because it makes me appreciate what we have a lot more. You're so many things that I didn't realize he never was, and if it wasn't for him doing what he did, we most likely wouldn't have ever run across each other again."

      "And I would have probably spent the rest of my life going through a revolving door of people like Joleen, or wound up drinking myself to death, or into prison," he murmurs into my ear. "So I guess I have to agree that it did serve some purpose."

      "Right. It's like the old saying, 'Every cloud has a silver lining'. They were our clouds, but the sun is finally coming out. Now Philip is out of both of our lives, and we don't have to worry about him anymore."