Genevieve put a spoonful of glazed carrots on her plate before passing the bowl to Jane. "I don't have that photo of your grandmother yet," the former said. "Cadence hasn't looked for it."

"Oh, no hurry," Jane replied. "I keep forgetting to dig out my photo album, too."

"We put all the things from Vivian's estate in the quonset," Cadence said in a defensive tone. "I haven't had time to clear a path to it. The snow's drifted over the door."

Danny pointed to himself and motioned his hands before pointing towards Cadence.

Cadence glanced at him before adding to Genevieve, "I can do it. I just haven't had time yet."

"There's no hurry," Jane repeated.

"What about the other photos?" Genevieve asked.

"I told Holly where to find them," Cadence replied.

All eyes turned to Holly, whose eyes widened. "Oh! I forgot! In the basement bedroom closet, right?"

Cadence nodded.

"I'll get them right after dinner."

Genevieve had pointed her good ear towards Holly, and, satisfied with the answer, now turned towards Jane, patting the tablecloth near her plate. "We'll take a trip down memory lane, you and I."

Jane smiled. "I look forward to it."

The conversation then switched to the hotel's progress and the latest family news. Cadence remained quiet the remainder of the meal, and when the women were clearing the table, Jane asked if she was okay.

"Yeah," Cadence answered. "I'm just stressed. We're starting clinicals this semester. I'm freaking about sticking needles in real people. So far we've only used oranges and fake arms. I'm scared I'm going to faint if I see blood."

Jane stared at her. "You're afraid of blood?"

Cadence gave a sheepish smile. "Me and blood have a bad history. And I've never liked needles. Put those two together..."

"Don't they let you practice on each other? I thought that's how nurses learned."

"Some are going to do that, but I don't want to freak out in front of them, either." She stacked several plates, her forehead wrinkled with worry. "Maybe I shouldn't be a nurse. They probably won't give me a license anyway because of my felony conviction."

"Don't say that," Holly said, holding several glasses against her stomach. "You'll make a great nurse. We just have to get you over the fear. Sometimes thinking about something is worse than doing it."

"She's right," Jane said. "The times I've had to get shots or have blood taken it wasn't as bad as I imagined it."

"I don't know..." Cadence said, carrying her dirty plates to the kitchen. The other two followed.

"I'd let you practice on me if you had a syringe," Holly said. She frowned. "Nana has sewing needles..."

"Those wouldn't be sanitary," Cadence said.

Holly shrugged. "We could dip one in rubbing alcohol. That's what I did when I pierced my ears."

"Ouch!" Jane said. "You pierced your ears with a needle?"

Holly grinned. "Yeah. It hurt as all get-out, but I really wanted pierced ears, and Mom wouldn't let me. She grounded me for a month when she found out." She fingered the small stud in her ear. "I got them re-pierced when I turned eighteen."

"That's crazy," Jane said. "But nurses don't use that kind of needle, do they?"

"No, but the point is to get Cady used to blood." Holly's face lit up. "They use lancets! To check for blood sugar." She turned to Cadence. "Did you throw out Papa's diabetic stuff like Mom told you to?"

Cadence shook her head. "Genevieve wouldn't let me. I put it back in her closet."

Twenty minutes later, the women gathered around a plastic box on the kitchen table filled with medical paraphernalia. Cadence sorted out the diabetic supplies.

"Look at all this stuff," Holly said. "It's a good thing Nana never wants to throw things out."

"She says we might need it someday," Cadence said.

"And she was right."

"Maybe you should take our blood pressure, too," Jane said, pulling out a cuff. "See what it is before you poke our fingers versus after."

"What's this about poking fingers?" Prett asked as he entered the kitchen.

"We're helping Cadence get over her fear of blood," Holly said.

"We're the guinea pigs," Jane said. "Want to volunteer?"

"I'll just watch."

"Chicken," Jane teased.

Cadence loaded the lancing device and Holly held out her index finger without hesitation. With a pale face, Cadence grasped Holly's finger and pressed the plastic cap against her skin. Jane jumped at the snap of the trigger, as did Cadence, who dropped the device.

"It worked!" Holly said, looking at the tiny droplet on her fingertip. "Now you have to squeeze enough blood out to test. I used to watch Papa do it."

Jane put her hand on Cadence's arm. "You doing okay?"

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"You can do this," Jane said. "Don't think of it as blood. Think of it as...grape juice."

Holly giggled. "Grape juice?"

Jane laughed. "It's all I could think of."

"Cherry juice fits the color better," Holly replied.

"Cherry juice then."

Cadence smiled, tears forming in her eyes. "You guys are so nice trying to help me."

"Hey, don't get emotional," Jane said. "Nurses have to stay objective. Professional."

"Professional," Cadence repeated. She swiped her eyes and took a deep breath. "Okay."

Holly held her finger higher. "Squeeze."

"Squeeze." Cadence did as instructed, creating a larger drop of blood on Holly's fingertip. She then loaded the glucose meter, pushing the button several times. "I think the battery's dead."

"Aww," Holly replied. "Bummer. Well, the important thing is, you saw blood and didn't get sick. Or faint."

"Not yet," Cadence said.

"Do we have a bandage?" Holly asked. "I think we forgot about bandages."

Cadence reached into the storage box. "Here's some cotton balls."

"That'll do." Holly pressed one between her thumb and forefinger. "Now Jane."

Jane felt the blood drain from her face. "I was hoping you'd forget me."

"Nope. Cady needs another go. So she can do it with confidence."

Jane sighed and held out her finger. Cadence put in a new lancet and once again Jane jumped at the click of the trigger. This time a sharp pain accompanied the sound. Cadence squeezed Jane's finger, oozing blood out of the pinprick.

"I swear this hurts worse than spraining my ankle," Jane said as Cadence pressed a cotton ball to her finger. She looked at Prett. "Your turn."

He expressed his reluctance by tossing his head back, but held out his finger nonetheless. "I'm not doing this alone," he said before whistling for his brothers.

By the time Val lined up, Cadence had lost her nervousness. She grinned as she pricked his finger.

"Don't take too much pleasure in it," Prett chided.

"Holly was right," Cadence replied, squeezing Val's finger. "Thinking about it was way worse than doing it."

"Yeah, for you," Jane said. "My finger's still throbbing."

Cadence's beeper emitted several shrill tones.

"Oh!" Holly exclaimed. "The photos. I promised Nana I'd look for them." She hustled through the kitchen towards the basement stairs.

Cadence's beeper went off again. Prett turned towards the living room and said, "She's not fretting about photos. Aunt Dona's trying to escape."

Dona stood at the living room's French doors leading out to the back patio, rattling the handles and muttering. Prett and Jane headed towards her, but Val's strides were faster. He reached Dona before they made it across the family room. Using a stuffed toy, he enticed her from the doors.

The urgency gone, Prett stopped near the back stairs. He reached out his hand in an offer to take Jane's cotton ball.

"You're done bleeding already?" she said, still dabbing her finger. "No fair." She glanced back at Cadence, and what she saw made her turn in surprise.

Danny had been standing apart from the group as though unwilling to play guinea pig, but now he stood alone in front of Cadence, his palm held out to her. Cadence glared at him, her hand stiff by her side. With an exasperated breath, she jammed a lancet in the device, held the bottom of his index finger, and pressed the cap against his skin. After the snap, she squeezed his finger and plopped a cotton ball on it.

Danny briefly held the cotton ball in place before tossing it on the table and holding his palm out again. Once more he and Cadence stared at each other. Then she reloaded the lancing device and pricked his middle finger. Again Danny tossed aside the cotton ball and offered his hand. Cadence repeated the steps on his ring finger. Then his pinky. Then his thumb.

Cadence threw the lancing device onto the table and stepped back.

Danny lowered his hand, his eyes holding hers.

Then he lifted up his other palm.

They had another stare-down before Cadence picked up the lancing device.

"Poor Danny," Jane whispered.

"Poor Danny?" Prett questioned. "She could slice off his fingers and all he'd notice is that she's holding his hand."

"Exactly. He's letting himself be tortured."

"He's in rapture. This is the best interaction they've had in weeks."

"And that's so sad. Why can't they just admit their feelings?"

"Because they're obstinate mules."

Jane winced as Cadence jammed the lancing device on yet another finger. Cadence no longer looked at Danny, focusing instead on his hand. He leaned towards her, smiling through watery eyes.

"He's got to be crazy in love to—to subject himself like this."

"He'd throw himself in front of a train if he thought it would make her happy. Actually, it probably would." Prett looked at his brother. "I should mention that to him."

Cadence's shoulders heaved with rapid breathing. She had now pricked every one of Danny's fingers. She thrust out a cotton ball, still avoiding eye contact.

Danny accepted the cotton and withdrew his hand.

Then he offered his first hand again.

Cadence shook her head and backed away.

Danny tilted his head and opened his mouth.

"Cady."

Cadence startled. Wide-eyed, she raised her head to gape at him.

Several feet away, Jane did much the same.

"I'm so sawry." Danny paused and swallowed hard. "I'm so sawry...for wot I...said." He slurped and wiped his sleeve across his mouth. "You...dazerve bettoo...den dat." He wiped his mouth again, scowling in frustration. "I sood—"

In a sudden burst of anger, Cadence stepped forward and shoved his chest with both hands. He stumbled backwards.

"Why did you wait so long! Why did you wait—" She slapped his cheek. Then she put her hands over his ears, pulled him towards her and covered his mouth with hers. With utter abandon, she raked her lips over his, seeming to devour him.

"Finally. Now they can be happy," Prett said. "If she doesn't kill him."

His observation brought Jane out of her shock. She realized her mouth was agape. What's worse, both hands gripped Prett's arm. She snapped her mouth shut as she released him, dropping her cotton ball on the floor. Prett retrieved it. Val now stood next to her, observing the lovers in the adjacent room.

Danny had wrapped his arms around Cadence's waist. Her arms were now over his shoulders, and their kissing had eased into tender caresses. Danny kissed his way to her ear, whispering words unknown.

Cadence yanked herself out of his clasp. She slapped him again. "You waited too long!" She choked on the last word. "You waited—" With a sob she put her hand over her mouth before running towards Jane and the two brothers. When she reached them, she turned and fled upstairs.

Danny stood with his arms still outstretched, palms up, staring at the spot Cadence had disappeared. All happiness and pleasure vanished. His expression morphed from confusion to despair. He stood there a long moment. With utter hopelessness he lowered his arms and walked away.

Prett sighed. "And I get left to pick up the pieces."

*****

Jane sat at a table in Genevieve's office, staring out the side porch's French doors. Outside, Danny manhandled a snow blower, clearing a path to the semi-circular metal building at the edge of the yard.

"After Howard died in Normandy, Meg begged me to let her go to the North Platte Canteen," Genevieve said, drawing Jane's focus back inside. "Have you ever heard of it, dear?"

Jane shook her head.

"The troop trains always stopped in North Platte for servicing. Boys from every state were on them, headed to war. The women greeted them with cakes and sandwiches and candy and entertainment. Most times they had only ten or fifteen minutes before the trains pulled out. A few minutes of comfort to boys who had never been away from home. Many never came home again. Like Howard."

"That's so sad," Jane murmured.

"That's war." Genevieve riffled through a shoebox filled with letters and photos. "Not this one." She replaced the lid and handed it to Jane, who put it on the other rejected boxes.

Genevieve picked up the next box. "Once Meg got an idea in her head, she wouldn't let it go. She needed to do something for the poor boys to honor Howard. So I let her go with Dona, who had a cousin living in North Platte. Well, those girls gave their addresses to any handsome young man they met! Lands! That was their true intention all along. The silliness of young girls. My goodness, Meg was only fourteen. One soldier began a correspondence, but he was killed, so his buddy continued in his stead. He was particularly interested in Meg, as he remembered her from his fifteen minutes at the Canteen."

She peered at a black-and-white photo she pulled from the box. "Yes! Here it is!" She passed it to Jane. "Meg hadn't noticed him at all. And no wonder!" She waved her hand at the photo. "Such an unfortunate face!"

Jane looked at the photo. A young, pretty girl in a satin wedding dress and flowing silk veil stood next to a tall man in a WWII Army Air Force uniform. Thin-faced, he had a large crooked nose.

"With an unfortunate name to go with it. Wiley." Genevieve harrumphed. "I let Meg marry him at seventeen. I was newly married myself, and she seemed determined to make my life miserable for it. But as it turned out, she picked far better for herself. I fell for a handsome face, a charming smile, and low morals, while she chose a true gentleman."

Genevieve rummaged through the photos again. She pulled out one of the young couple holding a baby. "But back then I was more concerned their children would have big noses than good character. Jimmy ended up with both."

She handed over another photo, this of a teenage boy with a buzz cut and black-rimmed eyeglasses. "He had his mother's eyes, but nothing could outshine that nose. God rest his soul. He was beautiful on the inside, if not out."

Jimmy did have his father's unfortunate nose. Meg's delicate features had shaped the rest of his face, though, and his eyes seemed especially kind. They struck Jane as somehow familiar, but before she could puzzle out why, Genevieve put another photo in her hand. A faded color one with Jimmy grinning in a powder-blue tuxedo next to a pixie-faced blond in a lace wedding gown.

"He snagged a pretty girl just like his father had," Genevieve said. "But poor SueAnn. Such a tragedy in the end."

The photos came faster now. Jimmy and SueAnn with a baby. Jimmy tossing a laughing sandy-haired toddler in the air.

"Thank heavens little Jamey got SueAnn's nose. It's the one good thing she could give him. Everything else he inherited from Jimmy."

Next came a photo of Jimmy in a white tuxedo with a black-haired beauty. "He divorced SueAnn and married Louise," Genevieve said. "She was a far better wife, but it cost him dearly."

She handed Jane a photo of a dark-haired infant. "This time I prayed for a normal baby instead of a pretty one. I got both."

A series of Polaroids showed an adorable dark-haired, blue-eyed boy. In one he blew out four candles on a rabbit-shaped cake. In another he grabbed a chunk of that cake with a look of wild abandon. In the last he smiled sweetly at the camera, chocolate frosting covering his mouth and cheeks. This last expression struck Jane as also familiar, but again she couldn't place why.

"The spitting image of my Jake," Genevieve said, adding in a mutter, "Though not so much lately." She pulled out another snapshot of the boy. "I was worried Danny would be born deaf, just like Louise. It ran in her family, you know. Though mostly the boys. If she'd had another child, the chances are it—"

"Wait—wait a minute," Jane interrupted. "Danny?" She looked at Genevieve, then again at the birthday boy. That charming smile...

It can't be.

But it so obviously was. Jane looked back at Genevieve. "This is Danny? Velentinny?"

"Of course, dear. Didn't I make that clear?"

Jane stared at the old woman with shock and bewilderment. "But...that would mean..." She glanced at the photo once again then outside at the man battling the snow drifts. "Danny is your great-grandson?"

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please help me improve my writing by pointing out problems. And if you like what you read, please click the Vote button below. And comment! I love comments! 😊

Fun Fact: Oh my gosh, I've been waiting forever to write Danny's apology scene! 😄 I came up with the idea early on of Danny sacrificing his fingers to help Cadence. And of course, I knew exactly what Prett would have to say about it. 😂 I've had his lines written for years. I just needed to write the surrounding text. 

My dad needed insulin the last few years of his life, and I played nurse to his patient, so I'm familiar with the process. Both my husband and I subjected ourselves to the experience of testing our blood sugar (minus the insulin injection, of course.) And I pricked myself more than once on accident. 😆

And as far as the second scene, there are many more surprises coming up regarding the Marvel brothers. Hang onto your seats. LOL

Fun Fact 2: Pieces by Rob Thomas came up in my playlist while writing this scene. The song fits the mood as do the lyrics. But so does Apologize by One Republic:

https://youtu.be/VRUWtag5EFk

Fun Fact 3: I needed a WWII-era wedding photo as inspiration for Meg and Wiley's photo description and didn't need to look much further than my uncle's 1943 wedding in Scotland. (Yep, my Scottish aunt was a "war bride." 😁) 

Uncle Robert wasn't able to serve in the military because he was blind in one eye. (He'd accidentally gotten shot through the eye when he was sixteen. Now that would make a great backstory for a character!) He worked for Consolidated Vultee Aircraft Corporation, and his uniform was created for that company:

From left:  Tom P,  Nancy Lind Markes, Robert A Aurand, Moira Lind Aurand

Likewise, their growing family provided inspiration for Wiley and Meg's family:

Moira & Robert Aurand holding my cousin Rusty.

And by now perhaps you understand that my posting old family photos is more than "fun facts." They serve a purpose: hinting of what's to come in this story. Family photos, letters, and documents play a huge role in The Marvels. Prett might not talk, but as they say, pictures are worth a thousand words...😉

Be sure to vote and comment! ⤵