Fenton Hardy sat in his hotel room, absently picking at the room service dinner balanced precariously on the edge of the desk.  Spread out in front of him were the papers he’d copied at the police station. He’d been engrossed in them for the last two hours, both for the details about the investigation itself and the unnerving information John Gainey had uncovered about the Cutter family.

‘Alcoholism. Depression. Drug dependency. DUI. Unemployment. Bankruptcy…’

Fenton gathered up the papers and put them back in the folder.  He sat back, suddenly ill at ease.  All these years he had been absolutely certain that once the Cutters moved to Arizona they’d lived a very happy life, blissfully ignorant of the entire Hardy family and the repercussions of Joe’s kidnapping.

Standing, he began to pace the small room. Pausing from time to time Fenton stared blankly out the tenth-floor window, raking a hand through his dark hair.  Had Jeff and Carole been able to forget what happened once they moved?  ‘Out of sight, out of mind, right?’  Or were they just as haunted by Joe’s abduction – and their part in it?  So haunted that it had affected their entire lives?  And their children’s? 

The minutest twinge of sympathy that was trying to grab Fenton’s attention was quickly obliterated by anger and resentment.  No! It was his family who had suffered! He and Laura were the ones who had to live with the memory of Joe’s ordeal every single day of their lives, fearing he’d remember too soon with possibly devastating consequences.

It was Frank who had to watch in silence as Joe’s subconscious allowed the memories to emerge.  He’d been over three thousand miles away when Joe finally did remember and still hadn’t forgiven himself for that.

It was Joe who briefly lost all touch with reality when the memories came crashing back and then quickly spiraled into a severe depression.  A depression that still resurfaced from time to time.

And then there was Vanessa… Vanessa, who didn’t even know who Joe Hardy was when this whole tragedy started. Yet it was Vanessa who perhaps paid the biggest price of all.

It was his family who had suffered! The Cutters had moved thousands of miles away, leaving the pain they’d inflicted far behind, not giving the Hardys a second thought.  That had been Fenton’s fervent belief for the past eighteen years and he wasn’t about to give it up now.  Whatever hardships had befallen Laura’s sister and her family had nothing to do with Joe’s kidnapping; nothing to do with Laura’s decision to turn her back on Carole; and it most certainly had nothing to do with the contempt Fenton never tried to hide.  

Memories he’d buried so deeply they couldn’t possibly return suddenly began to ricochet back at him.  The anger he couldn’t control, the threats he had so freely hurled at his brother-in-law…

‘No,’ Fenton shook his head vigorously. He had every right to despise Jeff Cutter! His feelings played no part in the self-hatred he’d seen in Jeff’s eyes; the hatred that had still been present last night.

Turning he leaned against the window and sighed.  His eyes fell on the folder and he felt a twinge of…

‘No!  I will not feel sorry for that man!  Whatever happened to him and his family was his own fault!’

Rubbing a hand over his face, Fenton suddenly felt drained; very tired and very lonely. Glancing at his watch, he smiled. It was time to check in with his family.

*****

“Well?” Vanessa was staring at Joe, her blue-grey eyes dancing with excitement.

Joe fixed his gaze on the catalog spread on the table in front of them, purposely avoiding looking at his fiancée.  He wanted to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of it all, but wisely suppressed the urge.  He could tell this was very important to Vanessa and was apparently an integral part of the wedding plans!

“Uh… well…” Joe stuttered.  ‘I can’t believe I’m missing a basketball game for this!’

“Come on, Joe, you must have a preference,” Vanessa pressed him.  “Do you like this one or that one better?  Or maybe you want to look at some of the others?” she eagerly reached across the table to a teetering stack of catalogs and brochures.

“No!”  Joe yelped, grabbing her arm and startling her in the process.  She turned wide eyes on him, a look of bewilderment on her face.  Joe opened his mouth to speak, having no idea what he was going to say when the phone rang.  “I’ll get it!” Joe cried out, launching himself out of the chair and snagging the handset.  “Hello?”

“Joe? What’s wrong?” Fenton Hardy’s voice echoed in Joe’s ear, but he was too worked up to notice the worried tone.

“You promised you’d help me with this!” Joe hissed into the phone.  Walking into the kitchen he glanced over his shoulder to make sure Vanessa hadn’t heard.  He needn’t have worried as she was flipping through the pages of the catalog, humming softly with an endearing smile on her face. “You and Frank!  Why didn’t you warn me?!”

“Warn you?”  Fenton asked, now sounding utterly confused.  “About what?”

“Napkins!” Joe growled.

“Napkins?”

“Napkins!  NAPKINS!” Joe repeated, waving his hand wildly in the air.  “According to Vanessa we have to have napkins with our names and the wedding date on the tables at the reception!  And they have to be just the right color, with just the right squiggly design around the edges!  Oh and the hearts!  Don’t forget the hearts!  They must have little hearts on them! 

“And apparently if I screw up in choosing the perfect napkin, with the perfect design and the perfect squiggles and the perfect hearts, our wedding will be ruined and the world as we know it will cease to exist!!”  Joe exhaled loudly, a shuddering, energy-sapping breath and slumped against the refrigerator.  Bracing himself against the doors, he slid down and sat on the floor.  Joe leaned his head back and closed his eyes, sighing dramatically.  “Why didn’t you warn me about the napkins, Dad?” he asked wearily.

Joe heard his father start to chuckle.  He pulled the phone away from his ear and glared at it for a few seconds before cradling it in his shoulder.  “I’m sooooooo glad you’re amused,” he griped.  “I’m missing a basketball game for this you know!”

“Ah, the sacrifices we make for love,” Fenton replied. Joe could hear the smile in his father’s voice and couldn’t help but grin himself.

“Come on, Dad.  Don’t you have any fatherly advice for me?”

“What do you usually do to get out of the more…mundane details of wedding planning?”

While Joe tried to be enthusiastic about the wedding plans and made every effort to fully participate knowing how happy it made Vanessa, the truth was, he couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around the importance of color schemes and floral arrangements and… NAPKINS!

“I just distract her with-” Joe stopped mid-sentence, feeling his face grow hot.  His methods for distracting Vanessa were definitely not something he wanted to share with his father!  ‘Too late,’ he thought, as his cheeks began to burn.  Fenton’s deep laughter resonated through the phone line.

“I’d venture to guess that once you’re done distracting her, she won’t care what kind of napkins you pick.”

“Dad!!” Joe cried out. Now thoroughly embarrassed, he quickly changed the subject. “So I take it you got there okay?  How was the flight?”

“The flight was fine.  There was a little boy on it who caused almost as much trouble as you used to.”

“What do you mean ‘used to’?” Joe asked indignantly.  “Are you insinuating I’m losing my touch?”

“Hardly,” Fenton replied dryly.  “In fact I warned his father about everything he’s got to look forward to.”

“You’d be bored to tears without me,” Joe insisted.  His father didn’t reply verbally, but Joe heard what he thought sounded like a very contented sigh and smiled.  A comfortable silence followed and when Fenton spoke again, his voice was quieter and much more serious.

“Joe… are you really okay with this? With my being here?”  Fenton hesitated as if he were going to wait for a reply but then rushed forward.  “Because if you’re not, you can tell me.  You know that.  I’ll come home.  They can find someone else…”

Joe realized his father was babbling, trying to find the right words to tell Joe nothing was more important to Fenton than he was - and found it touching.  It didn’t seem all that long ago that they butted heads almost every day, with both of them yelling and neither of them really listening to the other. Through his teenage years and on into college Joe’s rebellious nature seemed to reach new heights and Fenton’s patience, at times, had worn very thin. 

When he and Frank officially joined Fenton’s practice, Joe made a concerted effort to ‘grow up’, although he felt he still had a ways to go in that area. For his part, Fenton acknowledged and appreciated the changes Joe had made.  Still, it was only in the past year that they’d really grown close and built the relationship Joe now cherished.

“Dad,” he interrupted softly.  “I know.  I know you’d come home in a heartbeat if I asked you to. And knowing that is more than enough.”

A heavy silence, filled with love, stretched across thousands of miles. 

“Okay,” Fenton replied, his voice husky. “Just so you know.  Well, I better get back to work here.  I have a few more phone calls to make yet.  Give Vanessa my love.”

“I will.”

“Enjoy your distraction,” Fenton couldn’t resist one last teasing remark. “And good luck with the napkins.”

“Goodnight, Dad!” Joe huffed good-naturedly and ended the call.

Joe remained seated on the floor for a few moments, enjoying the sense of security that came with knowing a parent’s unconditional love.  Pushing himself to a standing position, Joe stared at Vanessa, seated on the couch.  She had picked up yet another brochure and started to leaf through it.

“Okay, Hardy, time to turn on the charm,” Joe muttered.

On his way back to the living room, Joe stopped to replace the phone in the cradle, turn off the ringer and turn down the volume on the answering machine. ‘Don’t want to be disturbed,’ he thought with a smile as he eased himself down next to Vanessa.

She looked up at him questioningly, but Joe never said a word.  Instead he took the brochure from her hands and dropped it on the floor.  Brushing a strand of hair off her face, he let his fingertips linger on her cheek.  Slowly he leaned down and kissed her.  Pulling her closer, he immediately felt her arms slip around his neck. 

Teasingly he trailed a string of soft kisses on her face, down her neck… and felt her heart start to race.  Vanessa reclined back onto the couch pulling Joe down with her.

“You still have to pick out the napkins when we’re done,” she said huskily. Seconds later all thoughts of wedding plans and basketball games were forgotten.

*****

“I’m scared, Frank.  Where are you?”

Joe opened his eyes and stared out into the darkened bedroom. 

‘What was that?’  He could have sworn he heard a child’s voice.  Joe held his breath for a few seconds, listening intently. ‘Must’ve dreamt it.’

He tried to shake it off but it had been so clear, so distinct.  And the child had sounded… scared.  With a start, Joe felt a shiver of fear race down his spine!  His breathing suddenly became harder, faster, more shallow; his heart started to race.  ‘What the heck?’

Joe felt the bed shift a little and Vanessa’s arms snaked lazily around him.  She scooted closer and pressed herself up against his back.  “It’s okay, Baby,” she murmured sleepily.  “Go back to sleep.”

Joe pulled her arms tighter around him and laced his fingers through hers.  It was rare that Vanessa’s touch couldn’t calm him whenever the darker side of his subconscious insisted on invading his dreams.  Closing his eyes, Joe started to fall asleep again within minutes. 

“Please, Frank… please come for me. You promised…”