George & Annie: an Unofficial Biography

Chapter 44: Understanding

2004

Annie leaned against the parked car, thankful the promised rain had held off so far, waiting for George. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he saw her, and realized what she was leaning against. She was confident he would love his birthday present, even if it wasn't his to keep.

She didn't have to wait long. He emerged from what looked like an abandoned storefront - which she alone among the pedestrians on the street knew actually served as a popular pub and busy point of travel for magical Britain - almost as if materializing from thin air. Which happened to be another feat she had seen him perform thousands of times by now.

He looked good. He dug through the pocket of the dark charcoal grey jeans, which fit him a bit more snugly than his usual baggy trousers, and pulled out his old cell phone. As he turned it on, she saw he wore a plain white t-shirt under a lightweight, heather green v-neck sweater, and a light grey denim jacket cut like a blazer. Unfortunately, he then turned the wrong direction, and began walking up the street away from her.

Annie reached inside the open car window and gave the horn a quick honk.

George spun around, looking for the source of the disturbance. His jaw dropped when his eyes found her. Quickly recovering, he jogged over to her with an enormous, delighted smile lighting up his face.

George had been on pins and needles all day, looking forward to the evening ahead with excitement. Annie had told him to wear something nicer than his usual work clothing but not fancy (Bless her heart!), yet nothing else about her plan. He had been distracted at work, thinking about it all day long, wondering what she had in store for him on his birthday.

It struck him that the whole thing might have been a little trick on her part. His wife knew that today, of all the days of the year, was often the most difficult for him. Had she intentionally tried to distract him from dwelling on the gloomy, depressing thoughts of the one he no longer shared the day with? If so, it had been a successful ploy, for the most part. The anticipation of a surprise had driven the sad memories from his mind.

And yet... he had to admit, each year it had gotten a little easier. The sharp blade-edge of the sadness had dulled significantly with the passage of time, blunted by days filled with comforting routine, weeks filled with cheering moments, months of watching his family grow and prosper. Life with Annie and his children had been a healing salve, helping to knit closed the once gaping wound, softening the scar left behind.

"Hello, George!" old Tom the barman had called out to him as he practically dashed through the Leaky Cauldron toward the front door instead of the fireplace. "Not heading straight home today?"

"The wife and I are off for a night on the town tonight, Tom," he had answered with a smile.

"Give my best to Annie, then," Tom replied.

"Will do, mate," George answered cheerily.

He stepped outside and blinked. The grey light of the overcast city was still much brighter than the dim tavern inside, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. Meanwhile, he began walking away from the interference of the magical entrance to Diagon Alley and turned on his phone, anticipating a message from Annie.

He heard a car horn behind him, startling him. He spun around, curious to see the source of it. He was stunned a moment later when his eyes found Annie leaning against a magnificent sports car.

As he jogged toward her, he noted she looked as sleek and beautiful as the car. Like it, she was dressed modestly in all black. Modest only in the fact that very little of her golden skin was exposed: the v-neck sweater did not plunge so far as to reveal any cleavage, nor did the knee-length skirt expose anything more than an inch or two of leg above the tall boots she wore. The allure was in the fit; her curves were displayed to maximum advantage by the clinging clothes. And he knew her body well enough by now that she might as well be standing there naked.

"You are a lovely, wicked girl to give me a Porshe 911 Carrera for my birthday," he said, kissing her on the cheek and lacing his fingers into hers. He noted with pride that the only things adorning her tonight - the peridot earrings, the heart pendant that lay in the hollow at the base of her neck, and the golden band around her finger - were each presented to her by himself.

"Not given, exactly. Just rented for the night," she corrected him gently.

He knew that, of course. It would have been preposterous to think otherwise. Owning a car like this was impossible to consider; not with a family of four children all under five years old at home. And likely more to come....

He kissed her again, pressing her body lightly up against the car. He considered again how she was like it: compact, powerful, and responsive. Sexy. "May I have the keys?" he whispered expectantly.

"Not yet. I'm hungry, and I'm taking you to dinner first. Get in," she ordered him as she used her hips to push him away from the car.

"I thought it was my present," he protested.

"You'll get to drive it after we eat," she assured him, smiling with devious delight at his frustration.

He walked around to the passenger side and sank into the seat. Annie had already slipped inside. The driver's seat was pushed so far forward as to be comical, in order for her feet to be able to reach the pedals.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"Not far," she replied as the engine roared awake, then purred in response to Annie's gentle guidance directing the car to pull into the street. "A little place I found on the internet - supposed to be the best fish and chips in London."

George smiled happily. Their mode of transportation would promise to be the fanciest thing about the entire evening. She would have known how that would please him immensely. They had only been traveling for about ten minutes when she parked in front of a greasy-looking chip shop. They strolled in together, arm in arm.

"Are you finished?" he asked impatiently about twenty minutes later, eager to get behind the wheel. He had already plowed hungrily through his own food. It had been delicious, and well-deserving of its reputation. But now he was itching to get on with the evening's entertainment.

"Don't rush me," she teased, tossing the last morsel into her mouth. "You'll get your turn soon enough. I'm thinking maybe I'll have dessert first...."

He snatched the empty basket from her hands and tugged her up off the seat. Annie giggled in response, jogging behind him as he pulled her quickly out the door.

"The keys," he demanded, holding out his hand as he stood next to the car.

"I should make you search for them," she said with a sly smile.

"Trust me, that would go far worse for you than me," he laughed.

"Right - here you go," she laughed as she dug them out of her pocket.

They climbed in.

"So, what's the plan?" he asked as he eased the ridiculously overpowered car into the tiny street.

"No plan. Just drive. Hop on a freeway and go nowhere," she said, waving her hands as if shooing him on his way. "We've only got to bring it back by noon tomorrow,"

"My birthday present is to chauffeur your ass around London all night long?" he teased. He could feel a bit of adrenaline hit his bloodstream as he fantasized about tearing down an empty roadway.

"No, your birthday present is a chance to drive like a bloody maniac in a race car," she retorted. "And nothing says we have to stay in London. You've brought your wand, I assume, so you can magic your way out of jail once you get caught criminally speeding?"

"Of course," he assured her, revving the engine at a stoplight. "Buckle up, then."

Annie gazed out of the passenger side window, watching streetlights, buildings and trees fly past her at breakneck speed. She wished the weather had permitted her to get a convertible: the feel of the wind would have been even more exhilarating. As it was, George was very obviously in seventh heaven, zipping along a suspiciously empty freeway. She watched as beads of water streaked past her, leaving trails along the window pane.

She had thought ahead to bring several of their favorite CDs, giving her something distracting to do while he enjoyed himself behind the wheel. She certainly knew him better than to expect him to share such a glorious piece of muggle ingenuity, which was why she had picked up the car at noon today and driven it around all afternoon by herself. She also knew he would feel guilty about his selfishness later, a fact she planned to use to her advantage as well, once they were in the hotel room.

"Thirsty?" he asked her after they had been driving aimlessly for nearly two hours.

"I could do with a pint," she replied.

He pulled off the freeway and entered into a nice-looking neighborhood. Annie did not know London well, but from the looks of the buildings they were now driving past, she suspected they might be near a university of some sort.

"Aha! That looks like destiny, love," he cried, pointing at a well-lit pub down the street. She smiled when she read the sign above it: The George and Dragon. He stopped the car in front of the door and told her to save them a table while he found a place to park.

Annie stepped out of the misty rain into the warm, dry pub. It was busy, but not crowded. George's namesake pub was a pleasant-looking place with a typical wooden bar, worn tables and chairs and a few old televisions; everything in a state of welcoming dilapidation. She found an empty table within sight of both the door and the bar and took a seat.

Not long after, two young men began to make their way toward her, smiling in a friendly way. At the same time, out of the corner of her eye, she saw George enter the bar. She turned toward him, and saw him glance around, then smile at her when he located her. He walked over to the bar to get their drinks.

"You look familiar," said a stranger's voice, addressing her.

She tore her eyes away from George to find the two young men now standing before her. "Really?" Annie asked, her voice sounding dubious.

In spite of the fact that George had often told her he found her beautiful, she knew she did not have a typically attractive face. Instead, she conceded it was perhaps striking in its uniqueness, her features being an odd combination of classic Welsh stock and some unknown, possibly exotically foreign genes. In particular, her violet eyes were far from anything commonly encountered. In no way would she ever look familiar to anyone who hadn't met her before. The boy's pick-up line was silly, and she nearly laughed out loud.

"Yeah. I think we have a class together... maybe Psych?" he continued.

"I'm not a student," she explained, shaking her head and smiling in amusement. She glanced back toward the bar, but had lost sight of George, perhaps because the two young men were now largely blocking her view.

"Oh, that's too bad. Would you like some company?" he asked, still not giving up hope.

"I'm here with someone, actually," she replied. Annie had to bite her lip to keep from giggling at his persistence.

"Great! Where is she? At the bar?" asked the other fellow, who had been silent up until now.

"He was," she answered.

They didn't seem to catch the pronoun gender switch, because the first bloke began introducing themselves. "I'm Seth, and this is Tim."

"Hello," she said politely. She turned to look at the little menu on the table, hoping they would lose interest if they saw she had none.

"The food here sucks, but the beer is cheap," Seth offered.

"Thanks for the tip," she said, dropping the menu. She was going to have to be a little more direct, she reckoned.

"I didn't catch your name," Seth asked, doggedly pursuing the effort.

"I didn't drop it," she said, unable to help herself from smiling at his attempt. "I'm Annie Weasley..." she began, about to explain that she was unavailable and ask them to move along.

"Lovely to meet you, Miss Annie Weasley," Seth interrupted, making a move to sit down next to her despite not being invited to do so.

"That's Mrs. Annie Weasley, gents," her hero's voice came from behind the suddenly startled young men. George stepped around them and set two pints on the table.

"George, darling!" she cried in relief as he leaned over the table and gave her a quick kiss. "These are Seth and Tim. Psychology students here at the university. They've been explaining to me about the menu," she said teasingly. She was confident George knew better than to feel threatened for real.

"Oh, excellent! The world can never have enough scholars, I always say. Don't I, my dear?" He was looking at the young men like a cat who'd just cornered a couple of mice.

"Always, my love. Remember, nothing's more important than a good education, boys," she said, playing along and only feeling the slightest bit of guilt for doing so.

"Psychology, eh? I suspect that takes up quite a bit of your time then, contemplating the mysterious workings of the brain and whatnot?" George asked the interlopers, toying with them now.

"Er, yeah. We should probably go study or something," muttered Seth, disappointed and feeling ill-used.

"Oh, that's a pity. Well, we understand, don't we, Annie, love? The never-ending search for wisdom, and all that...."

"Of course. Good luck to you, Seth and Tim!" she called out as they walked away.

"That was entertaining," George mumbled insincerely as he took a drink.

"Rather. Quite a boost to the old ego, I confess," she said with a smile, taking a drink as well. "And well done you for remembering what psychology is."

George snorted as he set his pint glass down and leaned back into his chair, gazing at her appraisingly. "I suppose you don't really look like a woman who's been married six years with four children waiting for her at home," he conceded.

"They're at your mother's tonight, actually. And I'll take that as a compliment, regardless of what you intended," she teased. "Further, I freely admit you look every bit the cunning, sexy, ruthless entrepreneur well on his way to making the first of many millions."

"That's quite enough of that now," he chided her. "As if I don't know every third word out of your mouth is utter bullshit. Those poor boys don't realize I rescued them from you, rather than the other way around."

"Well, what did you expect from a bar sitting across the street from a college? The allure of fresh meat, and all that," Annie giggled.

"So where are all the pretty coeds, then?" he replied.

Annie glanced around the room. She realized within a few seconds that she was one of only a handful of females present. "Well, thanks for bursting my bubble! Here I was, feeling my oats, only to be crushed now that you point out I'm only slim pickings," she whined petulantly.

George laughed as he leaned across the table toward her, taking her hand in his. "Don't look so deflated. I promise you won't spend the night alone in an empty bed," he added with a wink.

Now that was a pick-up line she could appreciate.

*

The entire Weasley clan (all twenty of them) plus the three Jordans were all seated around two large tables under a large awning on the beach along the Devonshire coastline. Everyone was laughing, joking, and chatting with each other as they ate. Parents, aunts, and uncles alike corralled and fed the eight children, regardless of who they actually belonged to, as the sun began to set into the sea.

"Who needs a beer?" Harry called out, standing next to a large cooler. Several of the adults responded positively and he tossed bottles to each one in turn.

"Annie?" he said, checking with nearly the only person who didn't say yes to the offer.

"No, thanks - I'm fine," she replied lightly and casually, immediately turning back to her dinner.

"No alcohol for Annie," George said loudly at the same time, grinning broadly.

Several nearby Weasleys, who had up to then been involved in independent conversations, now glanced at the couple in curiosity.

"George, you idiot," Annie muttered, irritated that he was on the verge of blowing their secret. Judging by the look on his face, he was dying to spill it, anyway. She wasn't much surprised - he never could hold out for long with this sort of news.

Annie swatted at his head.

George expertly deflected the blow with his arm, then caught her by the wrist, chuckling all the while. "What? I haven't said anything incriminating," he said, faking a tone of defensiveness.

Curious looks began to turn into suspicious ones.

"Oh, crap," mumbled Ginny. "They did just get back from another island vacation."

George smiled and winked at his little sister, confirming her theory.

Annie sighed. The cat was out of the bag now. They had indeed just returned from a week in Tahiti in early June. Annie couldn't stop the abashed smile growing on her face as she remembered it - how George had pretended to "forget" to pack any clothing beyond one measly bathing suit for each of them.

"Is it true, Annie dear?" asked Molly excitedly.

Annie was amazed that after seven grandchildren, she could still get excited about more. "Yes, Molly. We're expecting again," she said, giggling herself now.

"Ooh!" Molly cried excitedly. "That makes three more on the way, Arthur!" Annie's mother-in-law was referring to the fact that Ginny and Audrey were also pregnant at the moment.

"Five, George?" scolded Percy in a disapproving voice, shocked at what he deemed was his younger brother's recklessly prolific over-procreation.

"We had seven," Arthur interjected defensively on George's behalf. He scowled as he noted Percy rolling his eyes. Of all their children, Percy seemed to have the biggest chip on his shoulder about growing up in a large, less-than-well-to-do family.

"You do understand what causes it, don't you little bro?" Bill joked good-naturedly.

"Sounds to me like somebody's manhood is feeling a bit threatened," George teased him back. He had been glaring daggers at Percy only a moment before.

"Don't you ever say no to him?" Ron cried, smiling in fun as he nudged Annie's leg under the table with his foot.

Hermione screeched in protest and whacked him over the head while Annie giggled at his joke.

"You can't blame her.... What woman could be expected to resist me?" George laughed at one of his favorite running gags.

The rest of the table responded with rolling eyes and dismissive snorts.

"It's true you can be annoyingly persistent, love," Annie agreed, eliciting a smirk from her husband and laughs from the table.

"Seriously, when are you two going to stop? I mean, when is enough enough?" Lee asked as he thumped his best friend's back in congratulations.

George and Annie shrugged, smiling at each other. The subject was dropped soon after, once everyone had offered their good wishes and Annie had confirmed her expected due date of early March. After all, it wasn't as if a pregnancy in the family was a rare occurrence by this point.

As the group moved on to discuss something else, Annie did find herself quietly pondering Lee's question seriously. At what point would they stop adding to their family? Would they choose a certain target number as their limit? Try again for another boy or girl, depending on which this one turned out to be, to even up the score once more? Or just wake up one day and decide they were finished?

She was one of those lucky women who took pregnancy in stride, even enjoyed it. She had never had any difficulty with labor either; she supposed having twins first had quite a bit to do with that fact. The singleton births of their two daughters had seemed ridiculously quick and easy in comparison. From where she stood, she couldn't really imagine a reason for not wanting more children.

She tuned back into one of the conversations surrounding her. Percy sat on her right and was discussing the most recent events in his own life with Charlie and Sasha, who couldn't have gotten a word in edgewise if they had wanted to. Percy waxed poetic about his life as lord of the manor, now that he and Audrey had been given one of the many Cavendish family mansions that were scattered about the country as their own. His wife was pregnant with their first child, due sometime in the fall, but that wasn't the only reason she hadn't joined her husband's family this summer. She had never come along to their reunions at the shore - had only been to Mole Hill twice and the Burrow once, in fact - and Annie suspected Audrey wouldn't be caught dead in a tent regardless of the reason.

Across from them, Annie noted Ginny was chatting with Hermione. The two of them had grown almost as close as sisters during their time at Hogwarts, and all the years since had only served to strengthen the bond. She could pick up bits of the conversation from across the table: it sounded like Ginny was talking about her pregnancy, as usual. She was terribly excited about the whole thing, as every mother-to-be ought. Hermione, though, had a slightly sad expression lurking behind her smile. Annie wondered if perhaps she was feeling somewhat sensitive about being the last of the Weasley sisterhood to have a baby, even though she had made it clear to everyone that her Ministry career was the most important thing to her right now.

Dinner was finished and cleaned up as twilight descended. After all the children had been put to bed, and the rest of the family were all gathered around a fire outside, Annie sat at the table in her tent, quietly chatting with Molly. Annie had agreed to hang back, listening out for the children, since she was feeling somewhat tired herself. She and her mother-in-law were sipping tea when the conversation turned once more to Charlie.

Annie had been thrilled last Christmas when Charlie, true to his word, had come back to stay at Mole Hill for the holiday. And she had been pleased he felt comfortable enough with her and George to bring Sasha along. It meant a lot to her that Charlie and Sasha's experience over Christmas had been positive enough that they had subsequently agreed to come back for the annual family summer camp-out on the beach. Having his brother back with the family had meant the world to George.

"Don't get me wrong; it's nice that he has such a good friend. But they spend too much time together, those two. I think Sasha keeps him from getting out more, finding a nice girl. I want you lot to take him out tomorrow night to the village. Find a good girl for him, Annie," Molly charged her.

"No offense, Molly, but no," she replied as gently as she could. "I won't find someone for Charlie, because it's you who wants it, not him. Molly, it's time you just accept Charlie for who he is. Stop trying to force your idea of happiness onto him."

"It's high time somebody forced something!" she began to argue. "He's nearly thirty-two years old..."

"Charlie likes what he does for a living," Annie interrupted. "He likes where he lives. He likes who he spends his time with. Not many people get that lucky in life. Let him be happy, Molly. Let him be," Annie urged.

Molly pursed her lips, looking unconvinced. "I'm his mother, Annie, and I think I know a bit better than anyone else..."

"You're driving him away," Annie cut in, warning her in a quiet voice.

Molly sat quietly for a moment, taking in what Annie had just said. "Is that why he stays with you and George now? Because of me?" she cried softly.

Annie nodded reluctantly. She was sorry to hurt Molly's feelings, but reckoned it was better coming from her now than for Charlie to let it keep building within and either lash out in anger at his mother, or even worse, withdraw completely.

"He feels like he's done nothing but disappoint you. He is who he is, and he shouldn't be made to feel like that's not good enough. Especially for his own mother."

"I'm only trying to help!" Molly exclaimed, keeping her voice down because of the sleeping children but starting to get teary. "I can't stand to see him so lonely! I just want to see him happy! How can he be satisfied sitting alone on that mountaintop? What about love? What about having a family? The rest of you have settled down - you're all happy - why won't he?"

"Just because you or I may not understand it, doesn't mean his life doesn't make him happy," Annie argued. "Maybe Charlie's already found the right thing for him, and that's what matters. The only thing that matters, in fact. One thing's for sure, Molly: you harping on him to get married doesn't make him happy. So maybe you could try to lighten up a bit?" she suggested.

Annie handed Molly a napkin. Molly stared at the table in front of her while she dabbed her eyes and blew her nose.

"You're right, dear. I want for him to be happy, but I'm making it worse - I can see that now. I'll try to hold my tongue, from here on. Thank you, Annie, for being honest with me," she said, hugging her daughter-in-law.

The next night, Molly and Arthur offered to stay with the children. insisting the adults venture out to the village for an evening. Annie caught Molly's eye and gave her a stern warning look. Perhaps it was too much to expect, for Molly to go cold-turkey when it came to Charlie, Annie thought ruefully. To her credit, she could tell Molly was trying desperately not to ask her to set Charlie up, or to encourage him to return to their tent tonight engaged to a nice girl.

"Have fun!" Molly called out to everyone as they walked down the beach toward a nearby pub.

An hour later, Annie sat at one end of the table, staring off into space, bored silly. She had chatted with Ginny for a little while, answering a few pregnancy-related questions before they decided to drop the subject when Hermione began to look a bit put out with them. Then Hermione asked Ginny to take a stroll with her - Annie suspected maybe she had had another row with Ron and needed to vent. Everyone in the family had at one time or another witnessed the two of them snapping at each other like a couple of hungry dogs over a carcass, usually over some silly misunderstanding. Annie felt relieved rather than left out by not being asked to join them.

Not long after they left, while the rest of the table was arguing over the merits of the newest change to the rules of quidditch (a new penalty which George took exception to), Charlie asked Annie to dance.

"I can tell you're bored stiff," he said, smiling. "Fancy a spin around the dance floor?"

"Don't bother asking me," George huffed possessively, pausing momentarily in his tirade against quidditch referees in general.

"Why should he want to dance with you, you troll?" Annie teased, deliberately misunderstanding him. "Go back to ignoring me for the sake of your stupid argument, which is completely unfounded, by the way."

Annie and Charlie walked away from the table as the argument heated up again. "I'm no good dancing, so we could just stroll instead if you want," he said as he placed his hand at her waist.

"You're fine," Annie assured him, putting her hand in his. "This is just my speed, tonight," she said, barely stifling a yawn. "Sorry - it's not you. I get this way when I'm... well, you know," she giggled.

Charlie laughed. They danced in comfortable silence for a minute, Charlie slowly shuffling her around in a small circle.

"I wanted to thank you for last night," he said softly.

"What do you mean?" she asked him, confused. It was Molly who had cooked the fabulous meal yesterday, not her.

"I heard what you said to Mum," he said with a shrug.

"Oh." Her face burned with mortification that Charlie had caught her talking about him behind his back. "I didn't know anyone could hear us," she said, worried now that they might have been overheard by the rest of the family. It had not been her intention to broadcast her thoughts to the entire group.

"I was just outside the door - the smoke from the fire was giving me a headache. You could say I was eavesdropping, I suppose. You're not mad, are you?" he asked with a reassuring smile.

"No, of course not," she assured him, relieved he didn't sound angry with her.

"Anyway, thanks for sticking up for me. It means a lot to me that you and George feel that way.... That you accept me the way I am," he said shyly, stumbling a bit over the words.

A long pause followed as Annie waited for him to collect his thoughts. She sensed he was debating with himself about something, or maybe plucking up his courage. Like he was about to jump off of something rather high up. A cliff, perhaps.

"Are you going to say it out loud to me?" she said, gently. "Want to practice?" Annie gave him her most encouraging smile.

He looked at her curiously for several moments. Charlie's brow furrowed, and a small, amused smile grew on his face. He leaned down just a little bit, for he was the shortest Weasley brother, and whispered in her ear.

"I'm gay."

Charlie straightened up and looked searchingly at Annie's face to gauge her reaction.

"Good for you!" Annie stood on her tiptoes and whispered back. "I'm proud of you for saying it. And honored that you trusted me. Thank you."

He turned to look at her, an odd, perplexed look on his face, shaking his head slightly. "You are the strangest person, Annie. Is it a muggle thing?"

"Thanks. And no, I don't think so," she chuckled. "Have you come out to anyone else?"

Charlie vigorously shook his head.

"Not even...?" she asked, glancing at Sasha rather than identifying him out loud.

Charlie rolled his eyes and smirked, indicating it was a stupid question on her part and the answer should be obvious. "Don't be thick."

After another minute, Annie spoke again. "I think you should tell George next," she suggested.

Charlie inhaled a deep breath then let it out slowly. "I don't know," he said hesitantly.

"You know we love you, Charlie. And that it makes no difference to us. There won't be an easier person to tell than he will be," she coaxed him.

"As easy as you?" Charlie laughed.

"That's sweet of you to say. Honestly, why don't you come over to our room tonight, and you can pretend you haven't told me yet. It'll give you another go," she offered.

He thought about it for a moment as the first song ended and another one began. "Okay. I think I can handle the two of you at once," he conceded, smiling at the ridiculousness of the setup.

"And then we can help you work on the rest," she pressed on.

"The rest?" he said, looking alarmed.

"I think you should tell the family," she said.

"Why?" he demanded, obviously leery of the prospect.

"It would be a mark of... trust. Of respect. Show them that you love them enough to share this part of you with them," she urged him softly.

"I don't know..." he said again.

"Charlie, I spent a long time hiding a relationship from the world. I know how miserable it feels, not to be able to share the one you love the most with the ones who love you. Can you honestly say you want to do that forever?"

Charlie sighed, then slowly shook his head. "I suppose not."

"Are you afraid they'll react badly?" she asked.

"You don't think they'll be upset?" he replied, slightly surprised she might disagree.

Annie shook her head confidently.

"Even Mum?" he asked pointedly.

"Well... all right. Molly will be upset, that's true. But the rest... I think will be fine with it, truly I do. Maybe a bit surprised, but okay with it, still. And Molly.... Well, your mother will have to take her time with it, but she loves you like crazy, Charlie. And she'll come around. She was telling the truth last night, you know - she does just want you to be happy. And maybe this will finally convince her that you are."

"We'll see," he said doubtfully. "Let's take it one step at a time, okay? Tonight I'll tell George..."

"And me..."

"Right - and you," he chuckled. "And we'll go from there."