By four-thirty, the party was winding down.  By five, all of the guests, save the Maxims and Judge Armen, had left for their own homes.  The adults had retired to the house for coffee, Nika Maxim carrying the sleeping form of his youngest niece.  Easing himself down on a lawn chair, Dan looked over to the corner of the patio, where Tessa and the other Bob-Whites were gathered in lively conversation with Lana and Joe Maxim.  He could join them, should join them, but he was suddenly tired and craving quiet.  Dan sighed contentedly, and looked toward the lake.  Down on the dock two boys stood, tossing rocks into the water.  Mark and Denis. 

        Without really thinking about his actions, Dan rose from his chair and made his way down to the lake.  “If you find a flat one, you can make it skip,” Dan told Denis, stepping up behind him.

        “Really?

        “Really.  Here.  Watch.”  Dan reached into his pocket and pulled out the smooth, flat rock he had acquired on his way down.  With an expert flick of his wrist, he sent the stone skimming across the water.  It skipped three times before disappearing.

        “Wow!  That was cool, Cowboy.”  Denis grinned at him with open admiration.

        “It was adequate,” Dan told him, “Jim can usually make it skip five times, and I once saw Brian throw a nine.”

        “Nine?  How did he do that?”

        “It’s all in the wrist,” a deep voice replied.  Dan turned to see Brian standing next to the dock.  Hands in his pocket, Brian continued, “Of course, having the right rock, and the right angle of entry helps, too.  Would you like a lesson?”

        “You mean it?”  Denis asked, his eyes eager.

        “Sure.  I’ll tell you what.  Let’s round up my brother and the Lynch twins, and we’ll go on a hunt for the perfect skipping stones.”  Brian looked at Dan as if for approval, and then back to Denis.  “Bobby’s been after me to teach him my see-crud technique.”

        “Cool.  But...” Denis looked to Mark.  “I think we might be leaving soon.”

        “Nope.  The Wheelers invited your family to stay for dinner--just leftovers and hot dogs.  We have plenty of time.  In fact,” Brian narrowed his eyes, “I’d be willing to bet we could get Jim to show us his inferior technique as well.”

        Denis laughed.  “I’m going to tell Ranger you said he’s inferior.”

        “He already knows,” Brian assured him solemnly.  “But we try not to rub it in.  Besides, Mart can’t do better than a two.”

        This time it was Dan who laughed, the sound echoing back over the water, and causing Mark to grin.

        Denis hopped down off the dock and looked back at his brother.  “You coming?”

        “Maybe in a few minutes,” Mark answered.  “I think I’ll stay here with Cowboy for a while.  Make sure he don’t fall in and drown.”

        Denis and Brian both laughed as they turned back toward the house, Denis listening intently as Brian instructed him in the finer points of stone skimming.  Dan and Mark stood in silence for a minute or so, before Dan moved to sit on the edge of the dock.  Pulling off his shoes and socks, he dipped his feet into the soothingly cool water.

        Hesitantly, Mark sat down too, folding his legs carefully underneath his body.  “Oregon is kinda okay,” he offered.

        “That’s good.”  Dan wiggled his toes and waited.

        “Aunt Marina’s house is really close to the ocean.  I can hear it from my room.  We had a storm a couple of weeks ago, and boy, did it howl.  I thought it was cool, but Den freaked a little and came in with me.”  Mark hesitated, but once he got started, the words began to pick up momentum.  “I have my own room, and there’s a bathroom between mine and Den’s.  My cousin Frank is away at college, but when he’s home, he has the same kind of room as me, only he shares a bathroom with my cousin Nate.  He’s fourteen.  Nate is, I mean, and Cassie is sixteen.  She has her own bathroom.  Uncle Steve says it’s because she spends so much time in there doing her makeup, but she’s really pretty cool, for a girl.”

        “It sounds like a nice situation.”  Dan worked to keep his voice neutral.

        “So far,” Mark continued, “I’ve seen our school--Den and I will go to the same one this year, and the teachers seemed okay.  I just keep waiting...”

        “For something to go wrong?” Dan asked.

        Mark nodded sheepishly.  “Yeah.  Silly, huh?”

        Dan considered his words, weighing what he knew to be true against what he understood about Mark’s feelings.  “Yes,” he said, finally.  “But only because I know your family, Mark.  They all have enormous hearts.  I really don’t think anything could go so wrong that they would turn their backs on you.”  He shrugged.  “They never turned their backs on me, and I’m not even related.”

        “You are related,” Mark argued confidently.  “Yaya said so.  She says that love is thicker than blood, and love makes you her grandson, no matter who your parents are.”  He grinned at Dan.  “I guess that makes you my cousin.”

        “If Yaya says so, I guess I am.”  Dan poked his finger at Mark’s shoulder.  “I guess you can never have too much family, hey little cuz?”

        Mark snickered.  “I don’t know.  I seem to have more than anyone needs--and they all like to hug!”  He scowled at Dan.

        “True,” Dan said, remembering the Maxim family gatherings.  “It can be overwhelming, all of them together, but at least the food is something.”

        “Oh, yeah,” Mark agreed, “the food is awesome.”  His eyes darkened.  “It makes me wish that Sam could come with me.  He wouldn’t have to worry about not getting enough.”

        “Well, hopefully, Sam is getting what he needs,” Dan told him.  “I suppose I could ask Mr. Wheeler or Sergeant Molinson to check with Mr. Davis, maybe get a report on how the other boys are doing.”

        “That would be cool.”  Mark picked up a pebble and sent it hurling into the lake.  He and Dan watched the rings spiral and fade.  “Maybe,” he continued, his hesitation back.  “Maybe I could give you my address, and you might, you know, write or something?”

        “I’d like that,” Dan told him honestly.  “I really would.  You know, Jim and I are planning on going back to Camp Kensey next summer.  Maybe Aunt Marina would bring you up to Washington and we could visit.”

        “Yeah.  She might do that.” Mark tossed another pebble into the water.  “Thanks,” he mumbled.

        “For what?”

        “For convincing me to try.  You were right, I guess.”  Mark shrugged, and Dan had to smile.  He was spared the need to respond by the not-so-quiet arrival of Jim, Brian, Mart, Joe, Denis, Bobby, Larry and Terry.

        “Hey, Dan,” Jim called out as he slung a Lynch twin over his shoulder, “the Judge is leaving, and he wanted to see you.”  As a guarded look slipped across Dan’s face, Jim hastened to add, “I think he wants to say goodbye.” He focused his gaze on Mark.  “Are you going to join us in our...”

        “... Scintillating stone skimming scheme?” Mart finished, leaning down to poke his little brother.

        Mark rose a little warily, studied the group and shrugged.  “Sure.  Why not?” He looked at Dan and held out his hand.  “I’ll catch you later--cousin.”

        Dan accepted the hand up, and nodded.  “Later.”  As he started the climb back to the house, he could hear Brian and Jim’s good natured argument over skipping techniques.

        “You wanted to see me, sir?” Dan approached Judge Armen with a sense of trepidation.

        “Yes.  I have something to discuss with you,” the judge said solemnly, “and with your father and uncle.  Matthew has graciously volunteered his den.  Shall we?”

        “Uh...yes, sir.  Let me get them.”  Dan could feel his stomach beginning to burn as he hastened to find Regan and Maypenny.  Neither his father nor his uncle seemed concerned, but Dan couldn’t help himself.  Nervously, he stood near Matthew Wheeler’s desk, waiting for the bottom to drop out of his bright new world.

        Judge Armen waited for Maypenny and Regan to take seats on the leather sofa, before making himself comfortable in the wing chair.  “Have a seat, Daniel,” he instructed, “I’m not going to bite you.”

        Reluctantly, Dan slid into the desk chair and faced the judge.

        Judge Armen cleared his throat.  “When I sent you here, Daniel, I admit that I was not sure this would work out.  I’ve been pleasantly surprised.”  He tented his hands, tapping his fingers together.  “You have exceeded my expectations.  Because of this, I am terminating your probation. Here.”  He handed Dan a packet of papers.  “This is your copy of my writ and your now sealed file. Your father and Matthew have been kind enough to enlighten me as to your upcoming legal action.   In light of this information, I am requesting that you maintain contact with Ms. Pasquale, however, that’s just a courtesy, not a mandate.”

        Dan looked at the papers, the legalese a jumble of words to him.  What did the judge mean, terminating probation?  Was that the same as revoking?  It didn’t make sense.

        Judge Armen seemed to realize that he had not been clear.  “Daniel,” he explained, “You are no longer under my jurisdiction.”

        Dan blinked.  He wasn’t sure he had heard the judge correctly.  His eyes sought Maypenny for reassurance.  The broad grin on the man’s face confirmed that Dan had, indeed, understood.  Hesitantly, Dan looked at the judge.  “I’m...free?” he asked.

        Judge Armen chuckled as he stood.  “The subject of your freedom is between you and your father.  I am no longer in charge of restricting your movements, nor do I need to be informed of your actions.  Probation is ended.  Your debt is cleared, and your records sealed. Depending on the outcome of the upcoming legal investigation, I daresay it may eventually be completely expunged.”

        Dan rose slowly.  He approached the judge, hand outstretched, mouth dry.  “Thank you, sir.  Thank you.”

        “You’ve earned it, Daniel,” the judge said, shaking his hand.  “The paperwork was filed yesterday.”  He turned to shake the hands of the other two men.  “Thank you for including me in your celebration.  I wish you all the best.”  He took his leave.

        Dan turned to Regan and Maypenny.  “Did you know?” he demanded.

        Regan shook his head.  “I had no idea, but, damn, that’s great news.  You did it, Danny.  You did it.”

        “I suspected,” Maypenny admitted quietly.  “But I didn’t want to say anything, in case I was mistaken.  Congratulations, son.  You definitely deserve this.”

        Dan took a ragged breath, trying to deal with the surplus of emotion threatening to overwhelm him.  Maypenny, sensing that a distraction was called for, suggested, “Why don’t we head out for supper?  We can tell everyone the good news.”

        “Yeah,” Dan agreed, his voice slightly shaky. “Food would be good.”  He followed his father and uncle out of the den.

        Dan savored the quiet of the path between Manor House and the cabin. Walking slowly and silently through the dusk with his father, he found himself reflecting on the events of the day.  It had been long, emotional, and amazingly good, yet Dan was looking forward to its end.  He didn’t like being in the spotlight, and everything that had happened, no matter how wonderful, had served to shove him to the forefront.  It had been a relief to finally leave, just a boy and his dad on the way home.

        As they reached the clearing, Dan bit back a moan of frustration.  Parked around the side of the barn, he could see the rear end of a pickup truck.  “Dad?  Are you expecting someone?” he asked.

        “Nope.”  Thomas shifted his suit coat from his right arm to his left.  “They’ve been and gone, I reckon.”

        “Why did they leave their truck?”  Dan asked.

“Because it’s not their truck.  It’s ours.  Or, more accurately, yours.”  Thomas stifled a smile as he watched Dan process the information.

I

        t took a moment.  “Our truck?”  Dan looked perplexed.  “You bought a truck?”

        “Happy re-birthday, Daniel.”

        “No way.  No way.  You’re kidding, right?”  Dan eyes bounced from the truck, to Thomas, and then back to the truck.

        “I am most certainly not kidding,” Thomas grinned.  “I thought you might like your own transportation to the college, I know you like older trucks, and we can use the truck around the preserve, too.”

        “But...but...the money, and insurance, and...”  Dan’s voice trailed off, “you shouldn’t have.  How can we afford it?”

        Before the words were all the way out of his mouth, Thomas was beside him.  “I can see we need to have a chat,” he said firmly.  “Come into the house, and let me explain a few things.”

        Sitting in his chair, Thomas gestured for Dan to take a seat on the sofa.  “It didn’t occur to me to discuss this with you before now,” he began, “and I can see that I may have made a mistake.  Daniel, I am nowhere near as impoverished as you seem to believe.”

        Dan flushed, and protested, “I didn’t think that!  It’s just...”

        “I live simply, by choice.”  Thomas sat back in his chair and chuckled.  “Or rather, we live simply.  Son, my late wife was a wealthy woman.  Not as wealthy as your little girl, or her family, perhaps, but very well off.  How do you think I pay the property taxes on my--our--ten acres?”

        Dan’s eyebrows pulled together.  “I never really thought about it.  I guess...the gamekeeper job?”

        “I took the job a few months before you arrived,” Thomas informed him.  “I didn’t need to, but it was a good fit, and it gave me something to do other than hole up in the cabin.”  He chuckled again.  “Believe you me, Matthew Wheeler got the surprise of his life during that International Pines debacle.  He had no idea the resources I had available.”

        “So you didn’t need that John guy’s help?”  Dan felt as though he had stepped into a slightly tilted parallel universe.

        “No.  I enjoyed hearing his views, and I appreciated his passion for the cause, but everything was under control.”  Thomas tapped his chin.  “I was a bit distracted, I admit, what with all the legal folderol, but those furniture folk were never getting Maypenny land.”

        “I wish I had known,” Dan reflected.  “I was a little worried.”

        “And I’m truly sorry for that,” Thomas told him.  “I told you not to worry about it, but it didn’t occur to me to explain why.”  He sighed.  “I’ve lived alone a long time, Daniel.  Explaining myself, my actions, to another person is still somewhat unfamiliar territory.  I’ll try to do better.”

        “It’s okay,” was all Dan could manage.

        “Let me start now, to put your mind at ease over what I can and cannot afford.”  Thomas leaned back in his chair.  “When Dee passed on, she left me a substantial sum of money, but I didn’t want it.  I moved back to the cabin, and supported myself with odd jobs and the like--when I wasn’t wallowing in my grief.  The Hastings--Damaris’ folks--they had the inheritance placed in a trust.  Once I regained my senses, I met with the lawyers, and arranged for the property taxes and sundry things to be paid out of the trust.  I know it was what my Dee would have wanted.  But I have rarely touched the principal.”

        “Sven,” Dan said, realization dawning.  “You paid for the private nurses.”

        “Of course,” Thomas waved his hand.  “And there is plenty to pay for college, my respectable suits, and that truck out there.  Any legal fees we need to pay to find you some justice, well that’s there, too.”  He leaned forward, his eyes locked on Dan’s.  “I know this is a bit of a surprise for you, but you need to understand.  I like living simply, and off the land, and I have no plans to change the way we do things around here.  But I also don’t want you worrying about my being able to provide you with what you need.  What do you kids say?  Ahh.  I’ve got it covered.”

        “I didn’t need a truck,” Dan said with a smile.

        “No, but you wanted one, and you have to admit it will come in handy for hauling fallen trees.  Brownie and Spartan are getting up there, you know.  They have a lot of life left in them, but they aren’t exactly spring chickens--or rather, ponies.”

        “Great.  More wood to chop,” Dan groaned, his eyes twinkling mischievously.  “So, will you tell me about the truck?”

        “According to Tom Delanoy, the truck is in great shape for its age.  His father picked it up at an auction, and spent the last two years fixing it up in his spare time.  Let me see, where did I put that paper?”  Thomas searched his suit pocket, pulling out and unfolding a sheet of notebook paper. Slipping on his reading glasses, her read, “Here it is.  ‘It’s a 1958 Ford F-100, low mileage,’ considering it is almost thirty years old, ‘three speed, with a standard six, and a six point five foot bed that can carry just about anything you might want to haul.  It’s had some modifications, including radio and seat belts, but it is as close to stock as possible.’”  He peered at Dan over the top of his glasses.  “I don’t know what all that means, but I’m guessing you do.”

        “Yes, sir.  I do.”  The shock was beginning to wear off, and Dan found himself grinning so hard it hurt.  “Do you mind if I go take a look?”

        “Of course not, son.  I believe the keys are in it--that’s what Tom told me, anyway.  I’m going to change out of my party clothes.  Just don’t be gone too long.”

        “I’m not going to drive it tonight.  I just want to look at it.”  Dan stood up.  “Thanks, Dad.  I mean it.  Thank you.”

“Your happiness is thanks enough, son.  Go on, now, and check out your new toy.”  Thomas rose, squeezing Dan’s shoulders as he headed to his room.

        Dan watched him walk away before heading outside to where the truck--his truck--was parked.  He walked around it, feeling the smooth finish of the metal.  In the lingering light, he could see the shining robin’s egg blue of the paint, and the glowing silver of the chrome.  She was a beauty: Heavy, and rounded in all the right places.  Popping the hood, he looked at the engine.  It was clean and bright--Tom’s dad evidently knew what he was doing when it came to rebuilding an engine.  Opening the driver’s door, Dan slid inside, fingering the new upholstery and running his hands across the dash.  Mine, he thought, a smile spreading over his face.  My name is Daniel Joseph Mangan Maypenny.  I have a home.  I have a father.  I have a girlfriend.  I have a family and friends who love me and support me.  I have this truck, and I have my freedom.  I’ve made it around the whole circle, and I’m where I belong. 

        Dan looked through the front window as the stars twinkled to life in the darkening sky, reflecting, and wondering if there had ever before been such a perfect day.

Part 2

Index

A Year in the Life

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