Betty's Journey of Discovery
by Kris Stanger

Disclaimer: RW and it's characters belong to Rupert Holmes, et al. The rest is just a figment of my imagination and is not meant in any way, shape or form to infringe.

Chapter Fourteen – Starlight Memories

Betty was stunning. Scott couldn't take his eyes off her. Her long, white, off-the-shoulder dress shimmered in the candlelight. Her upswept hair emphasized her swanlike neck. Delicate diamonds twinkled at her ears. Betty took Scott's outstretched arm as they followed the Taylors into the Starlight Room. Betty glanced at him in his black tux. She didn't think he had ever looked so handsome. And he had been so charming to Mrs. Taylor in the limousine. The love Betty felt for this man at that moment made her want to burst.

Betty couldn't remember when she had experienced a more enjoyable dinner. The Taylors were a great couple. The four of them had hit it off immediately. Jokes and stories flew fast and furious. Scott and Thaddeus seemed to be kindred spirits. Each kept trying to good-naturedly top the other with their most outrageous adventures.

And Betty adored Camille Taylor. Any timidity she felt at being with someone so rich and socially powerful evaporated within ten seconds of meeting her. She immediately felt like she had known her all her life. But most of all, Betty enjoyed being in Scott's company. She could watch him all she wanted without feeling self-conscious.

After dinner, Betty and Camille retired to the Ladies Lounge to touch up their make-up. As Betty was digging in her beaded purse for her lipstick, Camille, with the wisdom that comes with age and experience, asked, "So, Betty dear, how long have you loved Scott?"

She looked at Camille with surprise. "What? I don't…"

"My dear, don't bother to deny it. You love him, don't you?"

It was interesting how Betty didn't even feel embarrassed with Camille. "Hopelessly."

"Oh, I do love watching two people so in love."

Betty looked down at her hands. "Oh, Camille, I'm so frustrated."

Camille led her over to the couch and they sat down. "I can't believe I'm telling you this, but…" Betty proceeded to spill everything that had happened and what she was feeling. Camille got out her handkerchief and wiped away the single tear that had fallen down Betty's cheek when she admitted how, because of her stubbornness, Scott no longer loved her.

"My dear, If I'm any judge of character, I don't think you have anything to worry about."

Before Betty could ask her what she meant, Camille ushered her out the door. "We'd better get back. The men will be wondering where in the world we are."

When Betty and Camille reached the table, Thaddeus boomed, "Where have you two gals been? The dancing has started."

"Oh, Thaddeus, what an indelicate question! I think you should make it up to Betty by dancing with her."

"What a splendid idea. Betty, would you care to dance? I promise I won't step on your delicate toes."

Camille confirmed this. "Don't worry, Betty. He really is a very good dancer."

"Then I would be delighted."

Scott watched them dance for a moment, then stood up and turned to Camille. "Camille, may I have the pleasure?"

Her eyes twinkled. "On one condition."

Scott escorted Camille over to the band as she requested. She handed the bandleader a piece of paper. Must be a special song request, he thought.

When the music to the first dance stopped, the four of them found they were near each other. The lights dimmed and the band started playing a slow romantic song. The meaningful words wafted over the crowd. "If you ever have forever in mind, I'll be here and easy to find."

Camille turned to Scott. "Scott, would you mind if we change partners? There's something I simply must discuss with Thaddeus." Politely, he acquiesced. The older couple danced off.

Scott turned to Betty and inquired. "Shall we?" Inside he was telling himself, "You can do this. Just keep it nice and polite and unemotional."

She nodded and came to him. Scott tried to keep her at arm's length but an over-rambunctious couple bumped into him pushing him against Betty. Her nearness melted Scott's resolve.

"Oh, what the hell." Scott slid his right arm around Betty's back and kept her close. He brought their intertwined hands in close to their bodies. He felt the softness of her cheek and smelled the elusive fragrance of lavender. Neither spoke, but just held on tightly to each other. Time seemed to stand still. Both were lost in their own strikingly similar thoughts – thoughts that echoed the words to the song. When your heart is ready for mine, I'll be here and easy to find.

Camille glanced over at Betty and Scott and sighed. "I wonder if we will be invited to the wedding."

"Who are you talking about my dear?" He followed her gaze. "Oh. I see."

The music stopped and, with reluctance, Betty and Scott pulled slightly apart. Betty looked up at Scott. He was looking at her with the strangest expression. "Betty, you…"

"SCOTT SHERWOOD! You ol' piker. What are you doing at a fancy place like this?" With a slap on the back and an intrusive handshake, Jack Hughes, a former business associate of Scott's, shattered the spell.

The rude interruption made Betty heartsick. She desperately wanted to know what Scott had been going to say. Scott, on the other hand, was relieved that he had been saved from making a fool of himself once again.

Chapter Fifteen – Goodbye Aunt Agatha

Thanksgiving was fast approaching but Betty wasn't feeling very thankful. She actually had many things to be thankful for but was worried about Scott and missed him terribly. The day after their evening with the Taylors in the Starlight Room, he had received a call from St. Luke's Hospital in Buffalo. His aunt had had a stroke and he immediately left to be with her. She knew that this was his only living family and not much of one at that. She wished with all her heart she could be by his side to comfort him and help him get through this.

Betty wondered if she should go ahead and go home for Thanksgiving like she had planned. She didn't know how long Scott would be gone and she desperately wanted to see him, or at least talk to him, before she left. She had tried calling the hospital only to be told that his aunt had been moved to another facility. The young girl who answered the phone refused to give out any additional information to a non-family member.

Betty was in the Writer's Room desperately trying to concentrate on her scripts. It was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and the day before Betty was scheduled to leave for Indiana. There still had been no word from Scott. She glanced at her watch. It was already 5:30 and she needed to get these done before she could call it a day. Her bus to Indiana was scheduled for a 6:00 departure the following night and she still had a stack of things to get done before she could leave.

Maybe some fresh air will clear my head. She pulled on her coat as she approached Gertie's desk. "I'm going out for a while, Gertie. I'm not sure when I'll be back."

"Would you like some company?" Victor had walked up behind her. "Maybe we could grab a bite to eat before I catch my train back to Washington in forty-five minutes." Just then, Betty's stomach growled. She smiled and nodded.

"Sure."

The phone was ringing as Betty and Victor stepped into the elevator. Gertie answered it distractedly, wishing she knew what was going on with those two. Gertie, however, was quickly brought back to attention by the voice on the phone. "Hi Gertie. How's my best girlfriend?"

"Oh, Scotty. I'm so happy you called. We've all been worried sick about you. How is your aunt? When are you coming home?"

"Gertie, I'm sorry I don't have time to chat. Is Betty there?"

"Scott, I'm sorry. You just missed her. She and Victor went out for dinner."

There was a long pause, so Gertie asked, "Scott, are you still there?"

She heard Scott sigh, "How about Maple? Is she around?

Just then, Maple walked out of the Green Room with Mackie. "She's right here, Scott." Gertie frantically motioned to Maple. "Maple, Scott's on the phone."

Gertie handed the phone to an anxious Maple. Their conversation was short. As Maple listened, her forehead furrowed. "Scotty, I'm so sorry. No, don't worry. I'll tell her. Tomorrow at 4:45? No problem. You take care honey. We love you. Goodbye."

Betty found her way back to the station an hour later. She felt a bit better and thought maybe she could get her work done now. The walk she had taken after Victor had hurried off to catch his train seemed to have cleared some cobwebs.

She passed by Studio A and saw Maple and Mackie finishing up The Petersons of Pigeon Hollow. She walked down to the Writer's Room and sat at her typewriter. She was staring at the keys, willing them to tell her what to write, when Maple came in the door.

"Betty, I talked to Scott." Simple words, but words that evoked strong and varied emotions in Betty. Her disappointment and envy that Scott turned to Maple rather than her gave way to her genuine concern for him and the relief of finally hearing from him. "What did he say?"

Maple sat on the edge of Betty's desk and took one of Betty's hands. Her eyes puddled with tears. "His aunt passed away this morning, Betty. They are having a small service for her tomorrow morning and then he's coming straight back here. I'm picking him up at the train station tomorrow at 4:45."

Betty stood up as she felt the sting of tears in her eyes. "Oh Maple. That's the only family he had left in the world."

The two very different women hugged, trying to console each other - two woman who cared deeply for a man who had had so few to truly care about him throughout his life. Betty felt such a kinship at that moment with Maple. She really was a good friend. She could understand why Scott turned to her so often.

"Maple, I'm so glad Scott has a friend like you."

"Remind me sometime to tell you all he's done for me. I'm just trying to make up for... Oh dear. I'm due back on the air. We'll talk some more later, ok?" Betty nodded.

After Maple left, Betty knew she needed to start facing some cold, hard truths. She admonished herself, Admit it, Betty Roberts. You thought all you would have to do was bat your eyes at Scott and wear a pretty dress and he would come running back to you. If he still loved you, even a little bit, he would have turned to you on one of the saddest days of his life, but he didn't. He doesn't need you.

She thought back to the magical dance they shared in the Starlight Room. Boy, did you overestimate yourself. Obviously, he wasn't effected by that night the same way you were. You need to get over it and face the fact that he doesn't want you anymore and might never again. You waited too long to come to your senses and now it's too late.

She took out her bus ticket to Indiana and looked at it. She knew there was no question now that she would go. All she desperately wanted to do, at this moment, was cry in her mamma's arms.

Chapter Sixteen – Lost And Found

4:53 pm: On Wednesday, Scott stepped down off the crowded train and was immediately enveloped in a perfumed-jangling bracelet-red hair hug. "Hey, Mapes. Thanks for picking me up."

5:03 pm: Betty glanced down at the suitcase next to her desk and then checked her watch. Scott's train should have arrived by now. She wondered if he would come straight here or go to his apartment first. Her taxi would be here at 5:15. She hoped she would get to see him before she left.

5:17 pm: The holiday traffic into town was terrible and Maple was an enthusiastic driver. She let everyone know with her lungs, gestures and horn when she felt they were committing some traffic faux pas according to "Maple's Book of Driving Etiquette."

As they approached the outskirts of town, Maple looked over at Scott's drawn face. "Where to, big guy? The station or home?"

Scott glanced at his watch. "Since we're so close, I thought I'd touch base with the station first."

Maple wasn't fooled. "I don't think she'll still be there, Scotty. She's leaving tonight for Indiana for a week."

Scott's face remained stoical. Barely a ripple of disappointment crossed it. Scott turned and looked out the window. It was already starting to get dark. His mind wandered back to the Starlight Room. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel the warmth and softness and sweetness of Betty in his arms. If they hadn't been interrupted at the end of the dance he would have told her she looked like an angel - an angel whose memory helped get him through this last difficult week.

Scott refused to dwell any further. It was time he started facing some cold, hard truths. It was getting next to impossible to be around Betty now – to constantly fight his feelings. He knew the time was coming very soon, when he would have to leave Pittsburgh and…"

"Scott?" Maple gently interrupted his thoughts. "So, do you still want to go to the station?"

"Yeah. I need to pick up my car and check the schedule." Maple took the appropriate turns and headed toward the station.

5:23 pm: The taxi driver was getting very impatient. "Lady, the traffic this time of night is terrible. If we don't leave right now, we're not going to make it on time. We still may not."

Betty had been stalling for the last ten minutes. She had come up with every excuse she could think of, hoping that Scott and Maple would pull up before she left. She took one last look up the deserted street then climbed into the taxi. She settled into the back seat and bent her head so the taxi driver wouldn't see her tears.

As they pulled away from the curb and sped down the street, Maple and Scott turned the corner behind them and slid into the parking space just vacated by the taxi.

5:35 pm: Scott looked over next week's schedules. The station was trying something new this year. They were playing prerecorded programs this evening, tomorrow and part of Friday so that the staff could enjoy the holiday. And since they hadn't known when he would be back, nothing was even penciled in for him until Monday. He wondered what he was going to do with himself until then.

Scott thought about the warm welcome given him when he walked in the station tonight. It was nice to be home among friends, but there was still a big, lonely, empty hole in his heart that only Betty seemed capable of filling. He looked at his watch. Time seemed to be crawling already.

Everyone, anxious to start celebrating, was hurrying to clear out as soon as possible. Scott thought about Thanksgiving the next day. It had never meant anything to him. His family never celebrated it when he was a kid and as an adult, he had usually been overseas somewhere this time of year. He had received several invitations to dinner the next day, but he had begged off. He knew he wouldn't be very good company.

Scott walked out into the hall just as Maple was hurrying out the door. She stopped. "Are you sure you won't join me and Johnny for dinner tomorrow? We're going to his mother's."

"Yikes, Maple. I thought you liked me."

Maple smiled. "Are you sure you're going to be ok?"

"Of course! You run along. I'll lock up."

With a brilliant smile over her shoulder she walked out the door. Quiet descended on the station. As Scott walked around turning off the lights, he thought of all the entertainment possibilities he had for the weekend. The many and varied diversions that used to interest him didn't seem at all appealing. Maybe he should try some place new to eat. Mr. Foley had mentioned a good restaurant on the north side of town but Scott couldn't remember the name. Maybe flipping through the restaurant section of the phone book would help jog his memory.

The dog-eared book fell open to where a piece of paper was marking someone's place. Something caught Scott's eye about the paper and he picked it up to take a closer look. It was a receipt from Jensen's Jewelers for a diamond ring. The first thing that popped into Scott's mind was, Mr. Foley, you ol' devil. But the signature on the bottom wasn't Mr. Foley's. It was Victor Comstock's.

Scott slammed the book shut and heaved it down the hallway. It finally came to a spinning stop by the control room door.

5:45 pm: With one last look back to make sure everything was buttoned up, Scott locked the front door. As he turned to go, the toe of his shoe hit something. He looked down and picked up a soft butter yellow wallet with a brightly colored envelope sticking out. Curiously, he opened it up. It was Betty's wallet with her bus ticket tucked inside. He checked the departure time. He looked at his watch. He went back into the station and tried to call the bus station. All he got was a busy signal.

If I ignore all the red lights, maybe I can get there before 6:00. He hurried down to the parking garage where his black DeSoto had been sitting since he left for Buffalo. He prayed it would start for him. With a growl, it came to life and Scott screeched out of the parking lot and down the street in the direction of the Bus Station.

6:02 pm: Scott quickly walked through the busy Bus Terminal looking for Betty. There was a crush of holiday travelers everywhere. He had almost given up hope when he spotted her. She was sitting all alone on a bench looking very small and dejected. He quietly sat down next to her.

"Betty?" She turned her face toward his. A look of amazement replaced the sadness.

"Scott, where have you been? I've been trying to call you forever! I tried the station and your apartment, but I couldn't find you. I've lost my wallet and my bus ticket. The porter has tried to help me look, but he's been so busy. Besides, he told me chances are no one would turn it in. Now I can't go home for Thanksgiving and I don't have any money to buy another ticket or even to take a taxi back to the Barbazon. I'm so glad you're here."

"I'm glad I'm here too." Then, with a smile, "Now, if you'll stop jabbering long enough for me to get a word in." He pulled her wallet out of his coat pocket and placed it in her hand. A look of amazement crossed her face and she threw her arms around his neck. People walking by began to stare.

"Uh, Betty. I can't breath."

She blushed at the raw emotion she had expressed at seeing him. He spared her any real embarrassment by saying, "Whew! You must really want to get home."

She was grateful he misunderstood her actions. To avoid his gaze, she looked down at her wallet. "But how did you find it?"

Scott cleared his throat. "Don't worry about that right now. Let's go exchange your ticket for a later bus and get you on your way to your family."

She half grinned. "I already checked. There aren't any more buses to Indiana until after Thanksgiving."

He brushed a stray strand of hair off her cheek. "Don't worry. We'll think of something."

Chapter Seventeen – On The Road To Indiana

The steady rhythm of the windshield wipers was making Scott tired. A mileage sign was coming up - ten miles to Elkhart, Indiana. He glanced over at Betty, asleep next to him. Her face looked serene and peaceful.

She had jumped at his offer to drive her home and had thanked him profusely for his great sacrifice. What she didn't know was that he'd gladly drive to the ends of the earth if doing so would put a smile on her face.

He noticed the delicate movement of her nostrils as she gently breathed. He hated to wake her and decided to let her sleep for a couple more miles. He thought back on the last five hours. He hadn't always found it easy to confide in Betty the things that mattered to him. He had always felt a bit inferior to her and didn't want her to see what could be perceived as weaknesses. But tonight something was different between them. Something subtle had changed. During the long drive, after some gentle prodding from her, he had opened up and poured out all he was feeling about his aunt's passing. She quietly let him reminisce about her and his childhood – the good things as well as the bad. Maybe it was the intimacy of the darkness and the confinement of the car, but tonight their conversation had been easy and meaningful.

His plan was to drop Betty off at her folks, then turn right around and head back. He didn't want to get in the way of any family doings. The rain had finally stopped and he turned off the wipers. He touched Betty on the shoulder and gently wakened her. "We're almost there. I need directions."

A sleepy Betty directed him off the highway and down several country roads. He pulled into a long tree-lined driveway and up next to a large two-story farmhouse. It was after 1:00 in the morning, but every light in the house was on. As they pulled up next to it, the back door burst open and five people piled out, all talking at once.

Betty squealed as she jumped out of the car. She ran to hug each person. Scott watched this joyous reunion for a moment. He wondered what it would feel like to belong to a family like this. He slowly climbed out of the car and opened the trunk to get Betty's suitcase.

After Betty finished enthusiastically greeting everyone, she came over and grabbed Scott's arm and brought him over to her family. "Everyone, this is Scott Sherwood. Scott, this is my mother, Ida, my father, Harold, my little brother Chester, who's not so little anymore, and my sister Louise and her husband Seth."

"It's very nice to meet all of you." Scott handed Betty her suitcase. "I'd better get back on the road."

Ida would hear none of it. "Don't be silly, Mr. Sherwood." She took his other arm and started walking into the house. "You will, of course, spend the night and stay for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow?"

"But, I..."

Ida shook her head. "Now, I won't hear another word about it. It's a done deal."

Scott wondered to himself, There's something about these Roberts woman that I just can't refuse. The door slammed behind them as they all crowded into the warm cozy kitchen.

Chapter Eighteen – Not Such A Culture Shock

Cock-a-doooo! In the fog of sleep, Scott wondered what in the blue-blooded blazes that awful noise was. He groaned. I can't believe it. I actually think it's a rooster.

He rolled over onto his back and sleepily opened one eye. A face with a goofy grin and a big mop of bright red hair was staring into his. "Good morning, Mr. Sherwood."

Scott searched his mind, trying to remember the introductions last night. "Chester, isn't it?"

Chester sat back up on his bed. "You can call me Chet. Everybody does." He suddenly hit on a terrific idea. "Say, would you like to see some of Betty's baby pictures? It'll only cost you a penny a peek."

Scott chuckled to himself, Do I have a kindred spirit here? Betty would be mortified at the thought. Out loud he said, "Maybe some other time Chet. And you can call me Scott."

Scott slowly got up from the floor of Chet's room where he had bedded down last night. He had assured Mrs. Roberts that he had slept on floors lots of times and he would be fine. It was true. He had slept on many floors in his travels. As he grabbed the ache in his back, though, he wondered, Maybe I'm just getting too old for this.

Scott looked down at the pajamas Chet has loaned him and looked around for his clothes. Chet went over to the dresser and returned with some cuffed dungarees and a plaid flannel shirt. "Mom said to loan you some of my clothes for the day since we're about the same size. She's washing your shirt and stuff."

In the kitchen, Betty was helping her mom clean up the breakfast dishes. She hoped that Scott was getting to sleep in. She worried about him driving all the way back to Pittsburgh by himself without a good night's rest. As she dried her hands on a dishtowel, Scott walked into the kitchen. Betty quickly put her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Was this really Scott Sherwood, the meticulous dresser who was so rarely seen in anything but very stylish business suits, looking like a farmer? He was rolling the cuffs of the flannel shirt when he looked up and caught the twinkle in her eyes. He walked over to her and in his deepest, most threatening growl, "Not one word or giggle out of you, Betty Roberts."

A chortle slipped out. "Scott, I can't help it. You look so..."

"Handsome? Debonair?"

"I'd say more like...cute." She managed to get it out before she broke into a full belly laugh.

"Cute? Did you say cute? I am not cute! Kittens and puppies are cute. Scott Sherwood is not cute."

Ida joined in the laughter. "Oh, I agree with Betty, Scott. You look very cute."

Scott turned to Chet in a mock serious voice. "Chet, my boy, I guess I will take you up on your offer to show me, for a very reasonable price, the slightly embarrassing but adorable I'm sure, baby pictures of one Miss Betty Roberts."

Chet let out a whoop of joy and loped off down the hall with Betty following on his heels. "Chester Floyd Roberts, you wouldn't dare!"

Ida observed the friendly banter between Scott and Betty with great interest. What interested her even more was the look in Scott's eyes as his gaze followed Betty. I do believe that Scott Sherwood is very much in love with my daughter. I wonder if she realizes it.

It was unusually warm weather for late November in Indiana. The men had been banished to the back porch out of harm's way. Inside, the kitchen was a hive of activity with preparations for the meal flying fast and furious. Seth and Louise's two kids were in the yard seeing who could spin in the most circles before falling down.

Ida tested the potatoes. "Betty, can you give me a hand draining the potatoes?" When there was no answer, Ida glanced around. For at least the tenth time today, Betty had wandered to the window that looked out over the porch.

"Betty?" Betty looked back startled. "Your help please?"

"I'm sorry mom." She hurried over to her mother. "What do you need?" Betty noticed her mother's raised eyebrow and felt the need to explain why she kept looking out at Scott. "I'm just a little worried about Scott fitting in. He's not used to all this noise and turmoil and family stuff." She saw the skeptical look her mom gave her. "Mom, I'm just trying to be a good hostess like you always taught me."

A burst of masculine laughter erupted from the porch. Betty and Ida looked at each other when they heard Harold, who rarely laughed out loud, say, "Scotty, boy I can't believe you actually managed to pull that off." Then Chet, "That is the greatest story, Scott. Where else have you lived?"

Ida dryly observed, "Sounds to me like he's fitting in just fine. Hand me the masher, dear." Ida began working on the potatoes.

Betty wandered over to the window and peered out again. She watched in amazement as little four year old Maggie marched over to Scott, climbed on his lap, took his face between her two little hands and demanded, "Uncle Scott. You tell ME a funny story now." Then in her best coquettish manner, "If you do, I'll give you a butterfly kiss."

A butterfly kiss was something completely foreign to Scott, so he looked to Seth for help. As Seth proceeded to explain, Ida walked over and stood behind Betty.

"I imagine he has that effect on many of the female sex." All Betty could manage to do was nod. She didn't think she could speak. She had never pictured Scott liking kids, but the way he was being so kind and gentle with Maggie touched something deep inside her. She could hear him start to spin some fractured fairy tale that, judging by Maggie's squeals of laughter, was a hit.

Ida gave a sidelong glance at Betty's very revealing face. "Hmm. Scott Sherwood is certainly a charming man. And he's quite handsome." Betty, trying to be nonchalant, agreed. "I guess so. In sort of a charming way."

Ida continued softly, carefully watching her daughter's reaction. "And, if I'm not mistaken, he's very much in love with my daughter."

Ida expected a reaction, but not the one she got. Betty turned to her mother, her eyes puddling with tears. "Oh, Momma, I've ruined everything!"

Chapter Nineteen – Thanksgiving Food For Thought

Thanksgiving dinner was over and the dishes all cleaned and put away. Seth and Louise had left shortly after dinner to put their little ones to bed and Betty knew that Scott would be leaving soon. It was silly to miss him already. She stepped out on the porch. The sun was starting to get low in the sky and it looked like there was going to be a spectacular sunset.

Scott had been such a hit with her family that she had barely had a chance to say two words to him all day. At this moment, Chet had him cornered in the living room peppering him with questions about his many adventures.

Her mother's words of warning kept ringing in her ears. Instead of the sympathy Betty expected after her emotional outburst earlier, her mother had been stern. "Well, Betty it's up to you to make the next move. It sounds like you rejected and hurt Scott so much and for so long that he's finally given up trying. He probably thinks it's what you want. If you want Scott Sherwood, you're going to have to get busy and make it happen."

Betty protested, "Believe me Momma, I've tried."

"Well, obviously not hard enough. Good men like Scott are hard to come by. Mark my words, one of these days he's going to walk out of your life for good and you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

Ida walked into the kitchen and noticed Betty out on the porch. She felt a bit guilty about how tough she had been on her before dinner, but she knew it was usually the only way to get through to her stubborn daughter who had a tendency to be too practical. Once in a while she had to be pushed to be spontaneous, to have a little faith and step into the unknown. Ida took one of her sweaters off the hook by the door and went out on the porch. She walked up and put her arm around Betty and hugged her. "Here sweetie. Take my sweater. Why don't you take a walk down to the barn? You know you've always done your best thinking there."

"I need to wait until Scott leaves."

"Don't worry. He and Chester are still in the middle of a game of Matchstick Poker and Chester actually thinks he's winning. Maybe you need a few minutes to yourself to think of what you want to say to Scott before he leaves, hmm?"

Ida watched her daughter walk down the path to the barn for a moment then went back into the kitchen just as Scott, with Chet hot on his trail, came in from the living room. "Chester, for heaven's sake! Let the poor man breathe a little."

"He's really alright, Ida." It was funny how they had all slipped so easily into first names.

"That's because you're polite, Scott." Ida opened the oven door and took out a covered plate. "Now Chester, I need you to walk this plate of food down to Mrs. Willoughby."

"But, mom…"

"No buts, Chester Floyd. Now!" Chet took the plate and loped down the back steps saying over his shoulder, "Don't worry Scott. I'll hurry back."

Scott chuckled and walked over to the coffeepot. He figured he'd need a lot of coffee if he wanted to make it all the way to Pittsburgh tonight. He took a sip then glanced at his watch. "Well, I guess I better hit the road."

Ida didn't like the idea of him driving with so little sleep the night before. "Are you sure you won't stay another night? We actually have a real bed available now."

He grinned but shook his head. "I've imposed on your hospitality long enough." He looked down at his newly cleaned and pressed shirt. "Have you seen Betty?"

Ida smiled knowingly. "I believe I saw her walking down to the barn. Ever since she was a little girl, it's been her favorite place on this whole farm. Why don't you go down and get her?"

Scott walked over to the door and looked out. "I think I will. I just want to say goodbye."

Chapter Twenty- Sunsets

Betty couldn't resist the beautiful sunset. Sunsets were one of the things she missed since moving to the city. Instead of going inside, she wandered around to the west side of the barn and found a comfortable seat on the hay stacked next to it. She leaned back and drank in the sweet smell that reminded her so much of her happy childhood.

The sunset was spectacular, but it couldn't keep thoughts of Scott from creeping in. She contemplated the blunt things her mom had said to her. She admitted that the uncompromising words made Betty wake up to the fact that Scott could very well walk out of her life for good one day and it frightened her.

The shifting colors and clouds melded into a deep golden pink. The whole sky seemed on fire. Betty's lack of sleep the night before began catching up with her and she closed her eyes. She thought back over the day - watching Scott with her family. She admitted he had surprised her. He had been so comfortable with her parents. He had treated Chet, who could be extremely obnoxious, so patiently, taking the near hero-worship in stride. And when he turned the full Scott Sherwood charm on Maggie, the poor little girl didn't stand a chance. She smiled when she remembered how Maggie had cried for 'Unca' Scott when it was time for them to leave. Who would have thought Scott Sherwood would not only like kids but also be so good with them? It boggled the mind.

The setting sun felt warm on Betty's face. She tried to imagine what her life would be like without Scott. He kind of reminded her of a spectacular sunset. He brought something special to otherwise routine days – warmth and excitement and a sense that something very exciting was right around the corner. What she had refused to acknowledge for a very long time, though, was that he wasn't just all flash and show that burned bright only to quickly die. There was also a solid and deep goodness at his core. He just kept it very well hidden most of the time.

Her body grew heavy. She yawned. He deserves to find real happiness... Her thoughts trailed off and her breathing became deep and regular.

A cool breeze lifted the tendrils of Betty's hair and made her shiver. She opened her eyes. It was dark except for the golden harvest moon hanging low in the eastern sky. She wondered how long she had been asleep and worried that Scott might have already left before she got to talk to him.

"Betty?" A soft voice inquired from the darkness.

She sat up. "Scott, I'm right here."

She could see his silhouette approaching her. The gentle song of the crickets surrounded them as he sat down next to her. She moved closer to his warmth. "You certainly are a hard one to find. Trying to hide from me?"

She laughed, "I really wasn't trying to hide. I guess I fell asleep watching the sunset."

"Well, I'm leaving and just wanted to say goodbye." He stood up and extended a hand to her. "Come on. Walk me to my car." She put one of her hands in his. She loved the feel and look of Scott's hands. They were strong and dry and masculine. He pulled her up next to him. She shivered again. He rubbed her hand a bit. "Your hands are like icicles." He took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders over her sweater. It felt like the most natural thing in the world when he left his arm around her. She could see the glint of teeth in the moonlight as he smiled down at her. "We need to get you warmed up." Betty didn't confess that her shiver had nothing to do with the chill in the air.

As they approached the house arm in arm, Betty looked up at Scott. "Let me go get my family. I know they'll want to say goodbye to you."

"It's already taken care of. When I couldn't find you on my first attempt, I went back and said good-bye to everyone. They probably think I'm long gone." He squeezed her shoulder and whispered in her ear. "It's just you and me, Betty Roberts." She felt his voice all they way down to her toes. They both fell silent, lost in their own thoughts.

When they reached the car, Betty turned to him and took one of his hands. "Scott I want to thank you for being so nice and patient with my family. I know they can be a bit much to take. Especially for someone like you who doesn't like this kind of domestic..."

Scott put a finger to her lips and gently scolded her. "Betty, I had a great time." He looked over at the farm house with its warm, inviting lights blazing and said, "True, I'm not used to family get-togethers like this and I've avoided them like the plague in the past, but I never knew it could feel like..."

In the light from the windows, Betty could see a far away, almost lost look in his eyes. A soft sigh escaped from his lips and he looked back at her with a wry smile. "Let's just say I never knew what I was missing."

Betty wanted to cry for the lost little boy who never knew a normal, happy childhood with a loving family. Betty wondered what kind of person she would be now if she had been raised the way Scott had. She feared she wouldn't measure up to him. She suddenly felt very much in awe of this complex, proud man.

Impulsively, she leaned up and softly kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for bringing me home and thank you for staying today." His sad brown eyes looked into her soft ones. He dared a glance at her soft inviting lips. An image suddenly intruded into his mind of the kiss she and Victor would share after he slipped the diamond ring on her finger.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, he straightened his back and let loose of the hand that had been holding hers.

Betty could feel him, once again, withdrawing from her. Quickly, she tried to prevent it. "Scott, do you think we could talk a little longer? There is really something I'd like to discuss. Maybe we could go for a short drive..."

Scott started backing away from her. "I'm sorry Betty. I really should be going."

"But, Scott, I really..."

Scott reached his car and opened the door. He took one last look at the woman for whom he'd do anything – anything, that is, but watch her marry another man.

The look on Scott's face was scaring Betty. Why was he looking so defeated and sad? Why did she suddenly feel like she was never going to see him again?

She hurried toward him. "Scott, please don't go yet. I…"

"Good bye, Betty." The car door slammed and before Betty could do or say any more, Scott's car disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust and gravel.

Betty stood staring down the empty, moonlit road until Ida came out and took her little girl in and put her to bed.

Some time during the night, Betty got up and sat in her window seat, staring out into the night with Scott's jacket to keep her warm.

Chapter Twenty-one - Missing In Action

Betty stepped off the bus in Pittsburgh. She fought back an overwhelming weariness. The long bus trip after a sleepless night had taken it's toll. She wondered if she had been foolish and impulsive to cut her vacation short, but she hadn't been able to get rid of the nagging feeling that she was never going to see Scott again if she didn't come back as soon as possible. The look on his face when he said goodbye haunted her.

She had started calling Scott's apartment early Friday morning knowing he should have made it home. She hadn't cared that he might be asleep. She needed to hear his voice.

After the tenth try with still no answer, she had called Maple and asked her if she had heard from him. She said she hadn't. In fact, she told Betty that she had been trying to get a hold of him herself without any luck. She said it was like he had disappeared off the face of the earth.

Betty had apologized to her family and had caught the first available bus to Pittsburgh. She was thankful her mother had understood. The unbearably long trip had been a nightmare. It seemed, to Betty, that the bus stopped in every small town between Indiana and Pennsylvania and every time it did, she felt like screaming.

Scott sat in his car, waiting. After about ten minutes, he saw Lester come out of the station and walk down the street to the trolley. He could go in now. The station would be deserted. He grabbed the empty cardboard box in the seat next to him and headed in.

Ten minutes later, he stood in the reception area looking at the cardboard box that was now brimming full. He couldn't believe all the "stuff" he had collected in three years. Most of it was headed for the trash receptacle out back. Only a few items were too hard to part with just yet. Scott took the airplane ticket out of his pocket and looked at it. He kept reminding himself that he had stayed in one place way too long. He kept reminding himself that he always wanted to go to Tahiti – the weather, the beaches, the half-naked women. What could be better than that, right? He kept reminding himself what a fool he was to love someone who was in love with someone else.

Betty asked the cab driver to wait for her outside of Scott's apartment building. She ran up the three flights of stairs. The mailbox had said room 308. She quickly found it and knocked – no answer.

She threw all pretense of being ladylike out the window. She pounded on the door and yelled, "Scott, are you in there? It's Betty. Scott, please, I need to talk to you!"

"Hey, missy! What do you think you're doing?" Betty turned around to see an older, heavyset woman in her bathrobe and curlers wheezing down the hall toward her. "Didn't your mother teach you that young ladies don't visit men at their apartments – especially this time of night?" As she got closer, Betty could see she had several teeth missing.

"I know, ma'am. I'm sorry, but this is an emergency. You see...um…I work with Mr. Sherwood and I, uh...we have a problem down at the radio station that only he can fix and I couldn't get him on the phone, so I...um..." Betty hoped her face wasn't turning red. She knew she was a terrible liar.

"Well, I'm afraid you're too late."

Betty began to panic in earnest. "Too late? What do you mean?"

"Mr. Sherwood gave me a month's rent and cleared out this afternoon. Gave me all his nice suits to give to the Salvation Army. Shame too. He was a good tenant." She cackled. "Good lookin' too. Why, if I were five years younger..."

Betty's voice shook as she interrupted the old woman. "Did he leave a forwarding address?"

"Nope. Said he'd be unreachable. Said if he got any mail to just throw it away."

Scott set his box of "stuff" by the front door and turned around for one last look at the place he had come to think of as home. He wondered if the memories would eventually fade and it would get easier in time. Somehow he doubted it.

His eyes rested on the smiling picture of Betty on the wall. It was taken after she received the Golden Lobe for excellence in writing. He walked over and gently touched her face with his fingers. She looked so happy. After a moment's hesitation, he took the frame off the wall, removed the picture and carefully put it in his box.

He wondered again if he should leave a note for Betty. His initial plan had been to make a clean break without any explanation. But, in the end, he couldn't bear the thought of Betty thinking the worst of him again. Maybe he could just leave a quick note explaining that an emergency had come up and that he wouldn't be returning. And he could thank her for...for what? Turning his life around? Giving it meaning? How did you thank someone for that?

He laid his overcoat on the cardboard box and headed down the hall to Betty's office.

Betty laid her head back in the taxi – no longer able to hold back the tears. The cab driver looked in his rear view mirror at the sad young woman in his back seat. He wondered what kind of fool would break such a tender heart.

As he pulled up in front of the Barbican Hotel For Women, she suddenly sat up in her seat and put her hand on his shoulder. "Wait! Take me to the WENN Radio Station first." Betty had one last glimmer of hope. Just maybe Scott had gone there to pick up his things. She knew it was improbable, but she had to try.

The cabby made a U-turn and headed back the other way mumbling to himself, "I hope this jerk, whoever he is, gets what's coming to him for walking out on this angel."

Scott was in Betty's office pacing up and down. His first two attempts at a note to Betty were crumpled in the garbage can. His mind just didn't seem capable of composing the necessary words. He walked over to the desk, tore another piece of paper out of the notepad and with a determined jaw, tried again.

As they pulled up at the radio station, Betty's heart began to thump. The familiar black car was parked in front. She realized she had been holding her breath. She let out a soft sigh. "He's here."

The cab driver sneered. "You want I should go beat him up for ya?"

She jumped out of the cab before it came to a complete stop. "Don't be silly." Impulsively, she leaned in the window and kissed the cabby on the cheek. Her shining eyes matched her smile. "Thank you for finding him for me."

The cab driver watched her run toward the building. His big burly heart melted. "Lucky guy."

As Betty rode the elevator up, she tried to prepare herself for the possibility that Scott may still reject her after she told him she loved him. It was a chance she was willing to take. The rest of her life would be filled with regret if she didn't at least try. She didn't remember the elevator ever going this slow before.

A terrifying thought occurred to her as the elevator door opened. What if Scott hadn't planned on taking his car with him and just left it here? What if he was already gone? She held her breath once again as she approached the dark door of WENN.

Chapter Twenty-two

Betty tested the station door. It was unlocked and swung open. She cautiously peeked in and saw a box on the floor with an overcoat draped on it.

In Betty's office, Scott was frustrated. "Damn!" He wadded up the most recent attempt at a good-bye note and threw it in the garbage can. He looked at his watch. He had time for one more try, but he needed some more paper. He had just thrown away the last page of Betty's notepad.

He looked around. On Betty's desk was a beautiful padded box with light blue forget-me-nots scattered on the lid. Scott knew it held Betty's personal stationery. He opened the lid intending to borrow a piece. He paused when he saw the carefully folded silk handkerchief lying on top of the scented paper.

Scott thought back 5 years or so to the strange little shop in Hong Kong from which he had purchased it. It had caught his eye because of the monogrammed initials - SRS. It had seemed, to Scott, to be waiting for him. He remembered how, when he had tried to leave with his purchase, the wizened old shopkeeper had blocked the door and pointed a boney finger at him and said, "This, that you purchase today, holds the desire of your heart." Scott had laughed it off at the time as the ramblings of a senile old man and hadn't even thought of it again until recently.

Betty quietly entered the station. As she turned the corner she saw the light from her office spilling into the dark hall. She was finding it very hard to breathe normally as she walked toward her office. When she reached her door, she peeked in. She closed her eyes for a moment in complete and utter relief. Scott was standing at her desk concentrating on something. She quietly entered the room.

Scott gently touched the carefully folded silk. The last time he had seen the handkerchief, it had been in Betty's trash can.

"Scott." Betty quietly interrupted his thoughts.

Scott turned and caught his breath at the sight of her. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The room grew quiet except for the ticking of a clock somewhere.

Betty's genuine relief at seeing him standing in front of her overcame her shyness. Her shaky legs quickly covered the distance between them. "Scott, I'm so glad I found you!"

Scott was immediately concerned when he saw her eyes brimming with tears. He cradled his hands under her chin and searched her face. "Betty, what's wrong? Did something happen? Is it your parents?"

She closed her eyes at the tender feel of his hands on her face. Two tears slipped down her cheeks. "No, there's nothing wrong. Not now."

Scott let her enigmatic answer hang in the air unexplained. He sensed it wasn't the time to press. He reached behind him for the silk handkerchief and as he gently wiped away her tears, he asked, "Betty, what are you doing back in Pittsburgh so soon?"

Betty answered truthfully. "There was something very important I had to come back and take care of."

Scott, assuming it was something to do with the station, nodded in understanding. He began to carefully fold the handkerchief. Betty noticed the thoughtful look on his face. "What is it, Scott?"

He looked at her a moment then back at the handkerchief. "Oh, I was just wondering..I...thought you threw this away?" He tried to hide it, but the hurt was apparent in his voice and eyes.

When Betty realized he must have seen it in her trash can, she was heartsick and wondered if this was why he had been so distant lately. "You mean you saw it in my...? No, Scott, you have to believe me, I don't know how it got in my trash can. I was so relieved that I found it before..." She finished in a rush. "I would never throw it away." Her eyes pleaded with him to understand.

Scott, still studying the handkerchief, cleared his throat and nodded. "I see."

She took the handkerchief from Scott and examined it with a half-smile. "In fact, I've cried into it so much lately I'm surprised it doesn't have holes worn in it."

Scott frowned at the thought of anything making Betty sad. Something occurred to him. "Betty, has Victor done something to hurt you? If..." He stopped in mid-sentence when she gave him a look of exasperation then turned and stormed to the other side of the room.

She kept her back to him for several moments. When she finally turned and looked at him, her jaw was set and there was a fire in her eyes. "Scott Sherwood, for a smart man, you certainly can be dense. I'm trying to tell you..." She tried again. "For weeks now, I've been trying my best to show you that..."

Puzzled, Scott shook his head. "That what?"

Betty became very still. She looked down at her hands for several moments. A waiting hush fell on the room. "That..." A sigh escaped her lips. "That I don't want to be friends with you." She looked up into his eyes and somewhere inside found the courage to whisper, "It's just not enough anymore." She walked over to him, reached up and gently kissed his lips. "Am I making myself perfectly clear now?"

It took Scott a couple of heartbeats for it all to sink in. Many puzzling things that Betty had said and done in the last several weeks began to make sense. Scott felt as if a dark weight was being lifted from his heart. A bit of the old Sherwood twinkle began to form in his eyes and he said with a laugh, "Why, Miss Roberts, I'm shocked."

"Arrrrghhh!" Betty shoved him on the chest and turned to walk away. "Scott Sherwood, you are the most self centered, smug, exasperating man I have ever..."

Scott caught her before she could go too far, gently turned her around, brought her back to him and kissed her. The warmth of his lips completely melted Betty's anger. She kissed him back with a longing she had never felt before. Months of frustration and misunderstanding evaporated in the intense, then gently tender kiss. When their lips finally parted Betty finished her sentence in a daze, "...loved."

Scott Sherwood, the man who could talk Eskimos into buying ice cubes, was at a loss for words.

Betty caught his face in both her hands. "Do you understand now what I'm saying, Scott? I love you, I love you, I love you. Betty Roberts loves Scott Sherwood, and has for a very long time." Something in the look in his eyes frightened and thrilled her at the same time. She buried her face in his neck and felt his strong, loving arms envelop her. "Please don't ever let me go."

Scott and Betty were blissfully unaware of how long they stood holding each other. Betty decided right then and there that she loved being in Scott's arms and that it was something she wanted to do a lot. She loved how his strong arms cradled her. She loved the sound of his strong, steady heartbeat under her ear. She loved being able to touch him. She ran her hand across his chest... "Scott?"

"Hmm?"

"What's in your coat pocket?"

Scott leaned down and slowly kissed her lips, "Shh! Don't bother me Betty. I'm busy."

Betty could feel her face flushing as his kiss moved to her cheek, then to the sensitive spot under her ear. His warm breath on her neck made her knees weak. It was all she could do to concentrate on her plan of action. She slowly slid her hand inside his jacket until it reached it's destination, then quick as a flash she grabbed the contents of his pocket. "A-ha! Got it!" She proudly walked away, holding the prize.

"Hey! Betty! You tricked me! Unfair tactics!"

She grinned at him over her shoulder. "I learned from a master. Besides, all's fair in love and war, you know." She examined what was in her hand for the first time. Her smile disappeared and she caught her breath at how close she had really come to losing Scott. She turned around and searched his face. "A one way ticket to Tahiti? You were really leaving and never coming back, weren't you?"

Scott put his hands in his pockets and nodded, then watched in surprise as the woman he loved ran out the door and down the hall.

Chapter Twenty-three - Flames

Betty was frantically looking through the drawers in the green room when Scott burst in. "Betty, what's wrong? What are you doing?"

She seemed to finally find what she was looking for. She grabbed a metal garbage can and set it on the table.

It finally dawned on Scott what she was up to. He walked over next to her and asked, "May I do the honors?" She nodded and with great ceremony, handed him the cigarette lighter and the airplane ticket.

Scott held the ticket over the garbage can and carefully lit it on fire. As soon as it got going, he dropped the ticket in the garbage can. He wrapped his arms around Betty and together they watched it burn.

Staring into the flames, Scott's thoughts once again returned to that small shop in Hong Kong and what the old man had told him. He didn't know if he believed in destiny or magic or whatever. All he knew for sure was that he had indeed found his heart's desire. His arms tightened around Betty.

She looked up and noticed him thoughtfully staring into the flames. "Scott, what are you thinking about?"

Scott rested his cheek on hers. "Betty, on our wedding night when we're snuggled up together in our warm bed, remind me to tell you the story behind the silk handkerchief. I think you'll find it interesting."

Betty felt a warm weakness spread throughout her body. "I can't wait." He leaned back to look at her with a smile and raised eyebrows. She blushed and hurried to clarify. "To hear the story, of course."

He laughed and kissed her forehead. "Of course."

Betty laid her head back on Scott's chest as his mood turned serious again. "Betty, when I saw my handkerchief in your trash can, I felt like my heart had been thrown away. I thought you were throwing me away. I thought..."

"Scott," Betty gently interrupted him. When she had his undivided attention, she asked softly, "What do you think now?"

Scott grinned the roguish grin she loved so much. He bent down to whisper in her ear. "Miss Roberts, are you sure you want an answer to that?" Someday, she would tell him what that voice did to her. She nodded. The tenderness and warm, sweet passion of his kiss was what Betty had been waiting for her whole life.

Much later, Scott took Betty's hand and led her to the couch. She curled up next to him with her head on his shoulder. He cuddled her close.

Betty whispered, "Scott, do you remember the day Veronica Rivers was leaving?"

"Sure."

"You came into my office wanting to talk to me about something, but you never told me what it was."

"You're right. I didn't."

"Well, what was it?"

"It doesn't really matter now."

She looked in to his eyes. "Scott, I want to know."

Scott couldn't seem to say no to this woman. With an exaggerated sigh, "OK, OK, I'll confess. I really didn't have anything to discuss. I had missed you all week and was going to make up some excuse to be near you for a while, that's all."

Betty was incredibly touched, but laughed. "You were missing me? I don't believe it for a minute. You were having the time of your life."

Scott studied the small, delicate hand that was intertwined with his and became very thoughtful. "I should have been having the time of my life shouldn't I?"

He turned to Betty and looked into her eyes for a long time and then whispered tenderly, "Betty, Betty, Betty. What have you done to me?" She settled back against his chest with his arms wrapped around her as he continued. "You know, when I was with Veronica, I'd tell myself I should be in seventh heaven. The old Scott Sherwood would have been. But I'd look at her blonde hair and wish it were auburn. I'd look at her icy blue eyes and wish they were a warm, soft brown. And when I looked at her lips..." He put his fingers under her chin, turned her face to his and gently kissed her.

"But then why did you spend so much time with her? It drove me crazy?" Something suddenly dawned on Betty. "You were doing it all for the good of WENN weren't you? You knew all the publicity could only enhance our visibility, help our ratings and our revenue. And it worked. You're brilliant!"

Scott pooh pooh-ed the idea. "Oh, I'm not that noble." He continued with a twinkle in his eye. "Mostly I did it hoping it would drive you crazy. I'm glad to hear my plan worked."

Betty hid her face in his neck and whispered, "It's so hard to believe you prefer plain, normal Betty Roberts over someone as beautiful and glamorous as Veronica Rivers. I think, in her way, she loved you."

"Betty, I'm going to say something now that is the simple truth. I love Betty Roberts and ONLY Betty Roberts and I will for the rest of my life. She gave me a heart I didn't know I had." Betty didn't know a heart could feel such joy.

Betty floated to work the next morning. She couldn't wait to see Scott again. She was sitting at her desk when Scott popped his head in. "Miss Roberts, can I talk to you for a minute?"

She looked up at him with a secret smile. "Of course, Mr. Sherwood. Come in." The second the door was shut, Betty rushed to his arms and kissed him thoroughly and completely. Her simple words belied the passion of her kiss. "Good morning. I missed you."

Scott was bowled over. "Wow! What a way to start the day!"

Just then, Mr. Eldridge walked in without knocking and they reluctantly pulled apart. "This telegram just arrived for you, Betty." Not taking her eyes off Scott's face. "Please just lay it on my desk, Mr. Eldridge." Then, with a grin as she echoed Scott's words to Veronica Rivers, "I have some unfinished business to take care of first."

"OK, but it's marked URGENT. It's from Victor and he wants you to move to Washington DC as soon as possible. I can tell you, I was so excited when Victor had me pick up your engagement ring." A puzzled look crossed Betty's face. She took the outstretched telegram. Mr. Eldridge innocently continued, "We sure will miss you Betty. When will you and Victor be getting married?" Scott tried, but couldn't read Betty's face.

Betty quietly stared at the telegram for a long time contemplating its contents. She suddenly became energized. "I must call Victor right now. Scott, Mr. Eldridge, could I have some privacy, please?"

"Of course." Scott left the room with a sinking heart.

Chapter Twenty-four - Journey's End

Scott was in the green room pacing up and down. Veronica's words kept repeating in his head. "Girls like that don't fall for men like you."

Betty quietly entered the green room. "Scott?"

Before she could go on, Scott spoke. He had great difficulty holding his emotions in check. "Listen, Betty, I know how you've always felt about Victor, and I know that Washington D.C. is an exciting city, but I won't give you up without a fight. We belong together..."

Betty interrupted him, "Scott you're right, Washington D.C. IS a very exciting city." After a pause, she continued. "Scott, you love me, right?"

He couldn't deny it. "Yes."

"Then you do want me to be happy, don't you?"

"More than anything."

After a pause she said, "Scott, being here with you – being anywhere with you makes me the happiest woman in the world."

Scott walked over to her. "I do that?"

"Oh, absolutely." Scott tenderly took her in his arms. "And that's exactly what I told Victor just now. It's funny, he didn't act surprised at all."

"Betty, if it's adventure and excitement you want, I'll take you anywhere in the world you want to go."

She snuggled closer, "Actually Scott, it's very exciting right here in your arms."

Scott responded with a smile in his voice, "Miss Roberts, what would your mother think?"

With a laugh, "Actually, my mother is going to be thrilled."

A thought occurred to Betty and a frown crossed her face. She searched Scott's face for reassurance. "Scott, you've lived such an...um...interesting life. Do you really think you can be happy with just me and WENN?"

Scott looked into her eyes then started to grin, "Piece of cake."

Epilogue - Forget-Me-Not

Christmas 1998

Sarah Sherwood closed the old photo album with a sigh. "Grandma, tell me again how you and grandpa met and fell in love."

Betty looked up from her reading. "Sarah Rebecca, you've heard that story hundreds of times."

Sarah moved to sit at her grandma's feet. "I know, Grandma, but I never get tired of hearing it and you're such a wonderful storyteller. Besides," she teased, "I've always had the feeling that there are some very exciting parts you're not telling."

Sarah grew quiet when she saw a change come over her grandma's face. She often wondered, when her grandma got that faraway look in her eye, what she was seeing, what she was remembering.

Sarah said softly, "Grandma, are you ok?"

Betty's attention returned to her granddaughter and she chuckled. "Of course, dear. And if you think I'm a good storyteller, you should have heard the tales your grandpa used to come up with."

Betty tenderly cupped her hand under Sarah's chin and looked into the big, sparkling, chocolate-brown eyes. They reminded her so much of Scott's that they made her heart ache with loneliness. "I wish you could have known my Scott. He would have adored you."

Sarah laid her head on her grandma's knees. Tears sprung to her eyes when she thought about what her mom had told her this morning. She said that Grandma had been to the doctor a week ago and...

Betty caressed Sarah's silky, black hair and knew the time had come.

"Sarah, dear, I have a Christmas present for you."

"But, Grandma, you already gave me..."

"Hush. This isn't something that I bought in the store. It's something of your grandpa's. I think he'd want you to have it." Sarah nodded, fighting back the tears. "Now, go over and open my trunk. There's a box on the very bottom I want you to get for me."

Sarah loved looking in her grandma's trunk. It held so many sacred treasures. She opened the heavy lid. She carefully set aside several bundles of letters tied with ribbon. She knew they were love letters from when Grandpa was in the service and Grandma was pregnant with Aunt Catherine. Next she carefully took out two dog-eared and yellowed pieces of sheet music - "I'll Be Seeing You" and "Forever". Her dad had told her that Grandma loved to sing while Grandpa accompanied her on the piano. By the looks of them, these two songs must have been favorites. She came to a myriad of keepsakes from all over the world. Sarah knew that Grandma and Grandpa had traveled a lot before Grandpa got sick. Their adventures were legendary in the Sherwood family. She set aside a bundle of yellowed screenplays that Grandma wrote for early television. There was even a very old script from Grandma's radio days. Ships That Pass In The Night - funny title. She picked up something she had never seen before. It looked like a half-burned ticket of some sort in a zip lock bag. She smiled and thought to herself, I bet there's a good story behind this one. She finally reached the bottom of the trunk. Sarah carefully lifted out a faded, but still beautiful, padded box with light blue forget-me-nots scattered across the lid.

She turned to Betty. "Is this what you want, Grandma?"

Betty nodded and patted the sofa next to her. "Come, sit by me."

With great interest, Sarah watched her grandma open the box and take out something that had been carefully wrapped in tissue paper. Betty handed her a white silk handkerchief.

Sarah looked at the monogram. "S.R.S. Hey, it has my initials on it - Sarah Rebecca Sherwood." Something suddenly dawned on her. "Oh, they're Grandpa's initials too, aren't they?"

Betty smiled and nodded as she took Sarah in her arms and held her. Sarah laid her head on her grandma's shoulder. "Sarah, I'm going to tell you again how your grandpa and I met and fell in love, but this time I'm going to include all those missing parts you've been pestering me about." Betty grew quiet. "I've never written any of this down, so hope you'll listen carefully and never forget what I'm going to tell you." Sarah nodded.

"Well, our story actually began back in 1936 before I had even met your grandpa. He was in Hong Kong and I was just finishing my sophomore year of college..."

Sarah zipped up her coat and peeked out the window when she heard the beep of a car horn. "Scotty's here to pick me up, Grandma." She smiled mischievously. "He hates it when I call him Scotty."

Betty felt tired, but she managed a smile. "Give your brother a hug for me."

Sarah laughed. "I can try, Grandma, but you know Scotty." She carefully tucked the padded box under her arm, then waved out the window to let her big brother know she had heard him.

She looked back at the grandma she loved so dearly. Her eyes were closed and her breathing regular. She looked so fragile in her sleep. Sarah walked over and covered her legs with an afghan, kissed her cheek and whispered, "I'll be seeing you, Grandma." She was going to miss her so much when...

Sarah walked over to the front door and looked back one more time as she slipped on her gloves. She thought about all the things her grandma had shared with her today. She held the padded box a little tighter. It meant so much that she had been trusted with such special memories. She understood, now, the faraway look Grandma would often get and she found herself missing a grandpa she had never really known until today.

Sarah wiped away a tear and whispered, "Don't worry, Grandma, I'll keep your memories alive. I'll always remember when." She left, gently shutting the door behind her.

I'LL BE SEEING YOU
(Irving Kahal / Sammy Fain)

I'll be seeing you in all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces all day through
In that small café, the park across the way
The children's carousel, the chestnut trees, the wishing well

I'll be seeing you in every lovely summer's day
In everything that's light and gay
I'll always think of you that way
I'll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon
But I'll be seeing you

(Bing Crosby recorded "I'll Be Seeing You" February 17, 1944. It entered the charts two months later, where it stayed for 24 weeks, topping the charts for 4 weeks.)

The End

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