Harold Dobey didn't think he'd ever seen anything as beautiful as his home. That is, until he saw his family. He didn't even mind that Rosie and Cal's bikes were in the driveway again. It somehow seemed right, giving him a feeling of hope, to come home and see Edith first, running toward him from the kitchen. She could hardly believe her eyes when she saw the cab door open and her husband emerge.

"Where are the kids?" he asked once he'd soundly hugged and kissed her.

"Upstairs, working on their homework," she said, trying to keep her face from bursting from the huge smile. "Did they drop the charges?" She was so excited at the prospect, he hated to burst her bubble.

"No," he answered somewhat glumly. "But at least someone thought enough of me to post bail. I just don't know anybody who could come up with that kind of money."

"Well," she said, smiling again, "I, for one, am not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. So you go upstairs and say hello to your children while I finish dinner." She gave him a peck on the nose, then a playful swat on the behind as he walked away.

He stood in the doorway, watching Rosie practicing her writing at the small desk in her room. Dear God, he prayed, she's so beautiful! Thank you! And smart too--at the top of her class. He stood straighter, proudly, before entering the room. Her back was to him, and he stepped softly so as not to alert her.

"Young lady, how many times have I told you not to leave your bicycle in the driveway!" He stormed, his smile softening the artificial anger in his words.

"Daddy!" Rosie shrieked, jumping from her chair into his arms.