Frank Hardy slowly ran his paint roller along the wall, watching carefully for drips as the off white basecoat faded quickly under the startling brightness of the cotton candy pink. He ran the roller up, then down, then back up again, moving at a slight angle. Painting was not exactly his field of expertise, so he wasn't sure if he was doing this right. Rotating his hand to glance at his watch, he frowned. Two splatters of pink paint had dripped down his wrist, obscuring the face of the timepiece. He wiped it with his fingers and succeeded in merely smearing the two drips into a larger splotch. "Just great," he muttered. "That's what I get for not taking it off, I suppose."

"Troubles?" his younger brother, Joe, asked. Joe sat on a folding chair, taking his time devouring an apple. Frank noted that Joe hadn't managed to get any paint on him. This was probably due to the fact that he'd spent most of his time directing Frank, rather than handling a paintbrush.

"No," Frank responded. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Joe dropped the apple core into a trash can sitting by the door. "I thought you were helping me paint Laurie's room," he told his brother.

"I am helping," Joe responded. "I'm helping by staying out of your way." Joe eyed the brilliant pink wall critically. "I can't believe this color. Girl's going to need sunglasses every time she walks in here."

"You're the one who picked it out," Frank reminded him. "She loves pink, Frank. We need to paint it pink, with white trim, just like her room in L.A. Or has that particular conversation slipped your memory?"

"No, it hasn't," Joe said as he toyed with his paint brush. "I just didn't realize how BRIGHT this pink was."

"Hey, I've got a brilliant idea," Frank said. "How about if you actually paint with that brush instead of play with it and I'll rent a couple of movies and order us a pizza when we get finished?"

Joe grinned. "Who do you think you are, Tom Sawyer? Bribing the neighborhood kids to whitewash for you?" He tipped the paint can, pouring some of the brightly colored paint into a tray. Moving to the wall opposite Frank, he began to work.

Frank suppressed a smile. "Imagine that - there's a book you've actually read. And I must be," he continued. "Because it looks like it's working."

Joe stuck his tongue at him. "For your information, there's probably a dozen or more movies made on Tom Sawyer. I never had to read the book. And my use of the paint brush has nothing to do with your bribe," he responded. "Mom expects us to be done by five. We're supposed to have dinner at home tonight. She wants you to look at the curtains she made for this room before she hangs them. She also said something about a quilt." Joe shook his head. "Dad should have never turned her and Aunt Gertrude loose in the department store to shop for Laurie's room. There's no telling what kind of girl's stuff you're going to have to sort through tonight." He grinned wickedly at his brother.

Frank just shrugged. "That's fine, little bro. You'll be there to share the misery with me. You know they're going to make you sit through the display of their shopping spree also." He laughed as the expression on Joe's face changed to one of horror.

Frank slapped Joe on the back. "We'll survive. And just think, by this time tomorrow, you'll have your favorite niece around to play with. So it'll make up for all your suffering today." He turned back to finish painting the wall.

"Yeah," Joe said. "My one and only niece, you mean. But, I'm sure with Nancy living here in Bayport, it'll only be a matter of time before I have more than one. Or maybe a nephew. That would be pretty cool to have. Someone to teach how to throw a football."

Frank didn't speak for a moment. He seemed to be concentrating on the job before him, watching as his paintbrush slid along the unfinished portion of the wall. "You'll just have to teach Laurie how to throw that football," he finally answered. "Nancy's not coming here to be with me. She's moving to Bayport so that Laurie can get to know me better."

"Right," Joe said. "And I'm the Queen of England." He stepped back to view his work. "Perfect, if I do say so myself." He turned to look at Frank's work. "You missed a spot," he said, pointing to the wall.

"Well, you're a holding a paintbrush," he replied. "Fix it for me."

Joe dipped his brush in Frank's tray and dabbed it over the spot. "There," he said. "All fixed." He surveyed the room. "I sure hope those curtains aren't pink," he said. "Or anything else they bought."

He placed his brush on top of the paint can. "Does Nancy know that Mom and Dad are planning a cookout tomorrow to welcome her and Laurie home?"

Frank nodded. "Yeah. She was surprised they wanted to welcome her here at all. Despite the fact that her friends and family in River Heights welcomed her back with open arms, she's still afraid of the reception she'll get here."

"Sounds reasonable," Joe said, rinsing out his paintbrush. "After all, she hurt you pretty bad when she left. And when you consider how she left...." his voice trailed off. "Mom and Dad would have every right to not want her around."

"Yeah, but they're not like that, Joe."

"No, they're not. But we know them a lot better than she does. So, she has a right to be apprehensive." He rummaged in the cooler Aunt Gertrude had packed for them and pulled out a Pepsi. "Want a soda?" he asked Frank.

"Sure," Frank made one final paint stroke in the corner and rinsed out his brush. Settling down on the newspaper covered carpet next to Joe's chair, he surveyed the room. "Boy, it really is pink, isn't it?"

"It is indeed," Joe said, stretching his long legs out. "But Laurie will love it. Once we set up the bed and bring in her white dresser and toy chest, it'll look kind of like her old room. Oh, and we can't forget that little vanity table that Vanessa got her.

"No, can't forget that," Frank said. "That was really sweet of her to buy that."

"That's my Vanessa," Joe said. "Sweetness personified. She's coming to the cookout tomorrow, by the way." He tossed his now empty soda can into the trash can.

"Two points!" he crowed. He stood, stretched, and offered his hand to Frank. "Need help up?"

Frank waved Joe's hand away. "Are you implying that I'm getting old?" he asked as he stood up.

"Nope," Joe said. "Just offering a hand to my brother."

"Thanks," Frank said. Placing the lid on the paint can, he began to gather their supplies. "Do me a favor, Joe. Gather up those newspapers and put them in the trash. All we have left is a little touch up on the trim, and we're done."

"You heard what I said about Vanessa coming tomorrow, right?" Joe stooped over and began to gather the paint splattered papers.

"Yeah," Frank replied. "I did. I think that's great. For both you and Nancy. It means you still have a shot at getting back together with Vanessa. And Nancy will have a friend here to help her get adjusted to her new life."

"Actually, she has you for that. And me of course. Vanessa is an extra bonus." He twisted the top of the trash bag and tied it off. "Tell you what Frank, I've got a feeling this is going to be a great summer. Our family is all back in Bayport, where we belong and we've got plenty of free time to spend with our girls. Life doesn't get much better." Picking up the paint can with one hand and the trash bag with the other, he winked at his brother. "Unless, of course, we can find a case to work on. Then it'll be just about perfect." With the final word in, he exited the room.