It had been a very strange couple of months for Jo. They had been her first spent in Henry's complete confidence, his secret having finally been revealed to her. The truth was something she had sought for a very long time and she was glad to have it now but there were still days when she wished she had known what she had been getting herself into. There were days when, if she were completely honest with herself, she felt if she had known what she was really asking for when she'd held that old photograph out to him she might have just kept it to herself. After hearing his full story and living with it for a while now she had been convinced things could get no more peculiar. That was until she found herself sitting in the passenger seat of Abe's car in the middle of the night with a soaking wet Henry in the backseat.

To be fair, she knew it was only in her own head that things were so bizarre. Henry, ever the gentleman, had been very patient and understanding throughout this learning process. He had given her space when she'd needed it. He'd answered every question she'd asked even when she felt they must have sounded stupid. He'd done his best to make things comfortable for her because, she could see, he was really glad to have her there. It was just that she was having a hard time wrapping her own mind around these new truths about her friend and partner. Whenever when she caught herself thinking about the fact that Henry literally could not stay dead or that he was almost as old as the Declaration of Independence she still thought she must have gone crazy. Never mind the fleeting questions she had about how this knowledge would affect those new feelings she had only just discovered she had for him; she kept those thoughts at a minimum.

Things had been hard enough to digest and that was with Henry's immortality as a theory in her mind. Now, it was becoming a reality in front of her eyes.

She had been alarmed when her ringing phone had woken her in the middle of the night and the ID said it was coming from Henry's house. She hadn't felt any better when she'd heard Abe on the other line and he had, rather awkwardly, told her that Henry had gone "skinny dipping." She now knew what that meant. She'd known this day would come eventually but she still wasn't prepared for the strange concoction of emotions she felt knowing that Henry had actually just died. She didn't know why Abe had called her and was especially confused when he asked if he could come and pick her up on his way to fetch Henry. She had agreed even though she didn't know why he was asking.

Her stomach was a growing bundle of nerves as they drove from the river back to the shop in silence. No one had said a word since they had picked Henry up. Or at least, no one had said a word since Henry had gotten in the car. She'd stayed in the car while Abe had met Henry on the bank and given him a set of clothes. When Henry arrived, soaking wet in a set of old sweats, he had given her a brave attempt at a smile but said nothing as he climbed into the backseat. It was unnerving because Henry was never this quiet. It was made worse by the fact that she could tell he was feeling miserable and his silence must be a symptom of that.

She didn't saying anything, waiting for one of them to speak first instead. Maybe silence was normal after this sort of thing and if it was she didn't want to be insensitive by speaking. She had no idea what was expected but she wouldn't have known what say even if she was supposed to talk. After several minutes, Abe attempted to start a conversation but it was clear Henry did not feel like talking. It was only then, seeing a look of unease and worry appear on Abe's normally jovial face, that Jo began to feel that this might not be normal even by their standards. She had a million questions but she kept them to herself for the time being; they only seemed to feed anxiety that was coursing through her body and growing stronger by the second.

She wanted to look at Henry but she didn't. She'd have to turn around to do so which would be obvious and she wasn't sure if he wanted her looking at him or not. She wanted to comfort him. Part of her just wanted to cry. Henry, her friend, her maybe something more, had just died. At the same time, a whole different part of her just wanted to crawl back in bed; this was too insane to comprehend.

When they arrived at the shop, Henry got out of the car almost as soon as it had stopped and walked straight in leaving Abe and Jo silently behind him. Jo hesitated to follow but reluctantly got out of the car after Abe had done so.

She wanted to ask Abe why he felt it was necessary for her to be there. She had found out, much to her horror, that Henry had died a handful times during the months she had known him. He had obviously gotten through those alright without her. And, over the course of Abe's life, who knew how many more of Henry's deaths he had experienced. If Henry did need help in any way Abe would be more than qualified to be to assist him. Jo had only just found out about Henry's secret. Just processing that information was proving to be more than she felt she could handle at times.

But Jo remained silent when she looked over at Abe. He had stopped to stare at the shop's door that Henry had very quickly disappeared through. He sighed heavily before glancing over at her, trying to give her a reassuring smile. "I'm sorry; it looks like this is going to be one of Henry's more difficult deaths."

"You mean this isn't normal?"

Abe laughed but it was humorless. He seemed tired and worn in a way she'd never seen him before. "Normal? With him? There really isn't any such thing. It's not his fault, mind you, but one never really knows what to expect with his deaths. They're quite the mixed bag."

Abe looked both troubled and sad. Jo wondered for the first time how all this must be on him and felt guilty that she had not thought of him sooner. If she was only the second person that was currently entrusted with Henry's secret then that meant Abe had borne that weight by himself for a very long time. She felt a little selfish for thinking so much about herself tonight. If Abe wanted her here then she decided she was glad to be here. She walked closer to him hoping that maybe she could be some help to him if only by being an ear to finally listen.

"He needs different things after a death," he continued, seeming to be encouraged by her presence and glad to be able to talk to someone about this. If she wasn't mistaken he even seemed to have a bit of hope mixed into his weary expression. "Sometimes he wants to be alone. Sometimes he needs to have company. Sometimes he wants to dwell on it, others he needs to be distracted from it. Sometimes he jokes about it even. But sometimes, not very often I will say, it's like this."

"But he'll be alright? Won't he?" she asked, worry creeping onto her shoulders.

"Yes. And no."

"What do you mean?"

"It's hard to explain. Henry is a...complex man. I've watched him my whole life and I'm still learning. Part of that complexity comes from the length of life he's lived but mostly I think he's probably always been like this. He's brilliant and emotional and sensitive and capable of so much. He will be the most loyal and loving person you will ever know in your whole life."

Abe stopped a sudden catch in his throat and he seemed embarrassed by his deeply emotional words and the sentiment behind them. He coughed quickly and went on. "But such a capacity for feeling has a down side to it. He struggles with depression. There have been times during his life when he's been able to overcome it; at times it's almost been like it wasn't there at all. But other times...it can afflict him quite mercilessly. But whether it's been active or silent, death has an uncanny way of making it rear its ugly head."

Jo was overcome with emotion herself, not knowing what to say. She had never really known. She had known that Henry was dramatic, that he could even be called moody at times. But she didn't know he struggled with this.

"I wanted this to be a little simpler the first time," Abe said quietly. His words seemed like they were meant for her but they were said so quietly she wondered if he was speaking to himself.

"Maybe I shouldn't come in," she offered quickly, feeling uncomfortable and more than willing to remove herself from the situation if Abe wanted her to. She already felt she didn't really have a place in all of this.

"It will be alright," Abe said. "Henry doesn't let a lot people see this side of him; it means a lot that he's willing to let you. I can assure you he wants you here even if he isn't able to express it in the way he wants."

"But... I don't know what to do," she admitted her voice wavering a little, feeling slightly overwhelmed. The fear of this night, the confusion of the past couple months and her lingering fatigue from her interrupted night's sleep all bared down on her and threatened to crush her. She was used to asking questions and getting answers. Only Henry, and apparently now his son too, got to make her feel this confused.

Abe seemed to pick up on her growing frustration and fear because he stepped closer to her and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You don't need to know what to do. Believe me, I know how crazy all of this is and how confusing it feels especially in the beginning. But you don't need to have all the answers. You just need to be with him. Your presence, more than anything else, is helpful. Just pay attention and he'll show you what he needs."

Jo still didn't feel like she knew what all of this was about or that she would be able to really help but Abe's gentle manner did make her feel a little better. Enough so that she nodded her head and followed him into the shop.

When Jo and Abe got up to the apartment they could hear the water running in the bathroom which told them Henry was already in the shower. Abe indicated that Jo should have a seat and she sat down on the couch as he went to the kitchen. He returned with a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine which she was grateful to accept. He poured them both a cup and sat down heavily next to her.

Jo discreetly watched Abe out of the corner of her eye, looking to him for clues on how to act, while resisting the urge to down her whole glass immediately. She wondered how many times Abe had done this in his life. She was still trying to get her mind wrapped around all of this but Abe had been doing this for decades. But even with the many years of experience he had, Abe still didn't seem to be used to this. She knew he said that this particular reaction from Henry was uncommon but she imagined that none of this could get very easy or commonplace no matter how many times it had happened.

Abe was silent, barely sipping his wine, obviously deep in thought. She wanted something to say, some way to help but she didn't know what would be best. Henry stayed in the bathroom for a long time, even long after the sound of the water had stopped.

Finally, Abe broke the long and uncomfortable silence. "He feels guilty about it, you know."

"About what?"

"For acting this way; for feeling sad and depressed."

"But...why should he feel guilty about it?" Jo asked. It was hard for her to imagine that there could be any other way to react after experiencing death.

"He thinks it's wrong to feel this way. I mean...he just cheated death. He got a second chance. He feels like so many people would want that and to feel anything but happy and grateful for it is wrong."

Jo's brow wrinkled in concern as she thought about it. She'd not known everything Henry went through. For most of the time she'd known him she had wondered why he concealed his secret from her. Almost from the beginning she had known he'd been hiding something and she wondered why he wouldn't simply be honest with her. But now she knew it wasn't a simple issue. It was so complex that even though she'd known what it was for months, even right now she was learning so much more about how complicated it was.

"Why don't go and check on him?" Abe suggested.

Jo felt alarm at the idea. She wanted to say that he should go instead. He was the one who had done this before. He was the one who was used to this chaos, who had witnessed this madness all his life. He knew what he was doing, knew more about Henry than she did.

But she wasn't a coward and she definitely wouldn't become one around Henry. She knew the grief of death well and even though this was a very different form than what she was used to struggling with she told herself that she had experience that might be helpful. She nodded her head and with forced determination she stood up and walked down the hall.

Jo knocked on the bathroom door quietly, but by the quick intake of breath on the other side she could tell that she had startled Henry. He had probably expected (and possibly wanted) to be left alone. "Henry...can I come in?" she asked as quietly and peacefully as she could so she didn't further startle him.

"Sure," he answered automatically, his voice sounding at the same time both extremely emotional and devoid of emotion. Then with a little more thought and concentration he added "Of course, you can."

She opened the door slowly and was surprised by the sight in front of her. Though Henry had answered affirmative to her question, he obviously was not in the same state of mind he normally would be in for company. He was sitting on the side of the tub and he had changed into a clean pair of sweatpants but he had no shirt on. He had a towel balled up in his hands and his hair still glistened with water. He turned to face her but his eyes were alarmingly empty as if seeing nothing at all.

Jo wanted to run away. Though she hated herself for it she honestly felt like fleeing. She had never seen Henry like this. He had never been like this around her. She had known he was a passionate man, emotional, even at times melodramatic but she had never seen him numb. She could practically feel the hopelessness, despair and the darkness that he felt right now. His expression was one of hollowness and meaninglessness. This was a part of Henry she had not seen and she did not know how to handle it.

But she couldn't and she would not leave. She refused to leave Henry alone in his depression just because she didn't understand it. Unless, of course, he wanted her to. "Do you want me to leave?" she asked. She remembered Abe words, that Henry would indicate what it was he needed if she just paid attention. She also remembered the look of hope in Abe's eyes, that spark of joy that he was no longer alone and it gave her courage though she still gripped tightly to the door for strength as she waited on Henry's answer.

He looked confused for a moment and unable to answer. "I just meant..." she went on, hoping to clarify and make his answer easier. "I want to stay here with you if you want me to. But if you would rather be alone, I would understand."

Henry looked so tired, as if he had never slept in all his 200+ years. "I don't know what I want," he admitted with a slight and defeated shrug of the shoulders.

Jo felt her own anxiety grow. What did that mean? What was she to do? Thankfully, Henry spoke again before she had to decipher what his words meant. "I'm sorry, Jo. I meant to handle this better."

For You. These two unsaid words rang louder than the spoken ones. Though his words broke her heart she was glad for them because they helped her know what she needed to do. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her and sat down next to Henry.

"Henry, I'm fine. You don't need to worry any on my account. I'm here to help you." On top of all the guilt he felt over how he was reacting to this death he also felt guilt at not being stronger for her. That just would not do.

"I can't explain it," he said. He sounded broken but numb. Far from being able explain what he was feeling, he couldn't even understand it himself.

"I know," she said reaching out and placing a hand on his back. He leaned forward and buried his face in the towel and she rubbed his back hoping it might unstick the jumble of emotions frozen inside of him.

She thought the tears would come now but they didn't. He seemed to be beyond them which was far worse. Crying wasn't pleasant but it was a needed release; it did help eventually. But pain that couldn't be expressed on the outside had to be dealt with completely on the inside. From personal experience she knew that made it much harder to cope with and made achieving relief a much longer process. Crying at least made you feel like you were doing something, that you were getting somewhere with your pain.

He sat a long time like that, hunched over in despair. It was hard to sit there with him especially when she felt she wasn't even helping. She had to keep reminding herself that it mattered that she was there. It mattered because he wanted to let her in. And it mattered because, even though she felt she wasn't doing anything, just her presence next to him made a difference.

The tears never did come and eventually she spoke. "Why don't I get you to bed?" she suggested. "You must be exhausted."

Even if he didn't sleep he would at least be more comfortable. He looked up, staring in front of him for a moment before turning towards her and simply nodding his head. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and led him out of the room. He didn't seem to be paying attention to what was going on around him as he allowed himself to be led down the hall. He didn't indicate the right one room himself as she searched for his room but it wasn't hard for her to find it and when she did she walked them in and over to Henry's bed.

Having never been in Henry's room before, Jo was once again struck with the awkwardness of the situation. One brief thought in the back of her mind wished things weren't so grave right now so she could dwell on her surroundings. But as things were she couldn't help but feel out of place and unsure of herself. She wondered where Abe had gone and why he hadn't come to help her take care of Henry. She couldn't help but feel how little she knew of what would help Henry in this situation and she wished Abe, with his experience and wisdom, would show up soon.

Henry laid down on immediately on the bed and curled up on his side. He looked miserable but in a silent, unreachable sort of way that she was unsure of how to touch. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. When Henry had told her his secret she had known that this day would come. She had known she would be in this situation eventually and she had planned to be encouraging and supportive. She was going to have comforting words for him following his death. But it seemed they were both destined to fail at the plans they'd made for how this night would go. While Henry had meant to be strong for her and couldn't be, she had meant to be comforting and felt she was failing at that.

She didn't know what would be most helpful to him; she didn't know how to reach him through this cloud of cold darkness surrounding him. She felt herself frozen just by being next to it as she looked over him. Then, with a spontaneity that amazed even herself, she found herself crawling onto the bed next to him. She hadn't really known she'd made the decision to do this but she knew words alone wouldn't be enough. Maybe this would. She wrapped herself around him, hugging him tight from behind.

It worked. The simplicity of her being there, of just being next to him, of not shying away from his pain but facing it and reaching out to it, seemed to be exactly what he needed. Her touch and everything it conveyed, made even better for not being complicated by words, seemed to unravel the tightness inside of him just enough that he could let it all out.

At first it seemed almost physically painful for him, like he didn't know how to rid himself of what he was feeling. As he finally started to cry he buried his face against the pillow, probably trying to hide out of embarrassment. Jo tightened her hold on him all the more, pressing her body as close to his as she could manage as the sobs reached their full force in him. The sounds of them were muffled by the pillow but were still so loud they rang in her ears and struck deep to her heart. She tried to hold him together as much as she was able; it was the only thing she could do. He cried so hard and so long that she was sure he was going to be sick. She knew she had before when she had cried this violently.

Somehow he escaped that but his tears were relentless as they tore into him. Just as a fit of them seemed to be leaving they would strike back as hard as ever and he would have to start his fight all over again. She never let go, never let her support of him waiver, through all of it. She let him know that she was there, that he wasn't unreachable and she wasn't leaving.

Eventually, the last wave of tears receded and did not come back. It took so long her body was aching from keeping her position all that time but she felt only relief for him. He still didn't say anything and now the only sounds in the room were the pitiful sounds of him trying to catch his breath. She waited a while before she chanced a small shift just enough so that she could glance at his face. He had pulled away from the pillow which was now thoroughly soaked and his eyes were swollen and red. She reached over to the bedside table, being sure to keep a encouraging hand on him as she did so, and grabbed a tissue. She handed it to him and he wiped his face. It was hard to tell how much or how little he may be feeling right now but she was glad he was at least alert enough to follow cues.

She settled back on the bed next to him. She wanted to reach out to hold him again but she didn't want to come on too strong and embarrass him. She settled for taking one of her hands and reaching out to his head and running her hand through his thick hair. He still didn't say anything but she felt the way he unconsciously leaned against her hand and she knew that the soothing gesture was relaxing him. Abe had been right; she knew what to do, even without words.

Finally, after so much time had passed that she had forgotten all about him, Abe walked into the room. Jo was slightly embarrassed to be caught wrapped around Henry like this but Abe didn't seem at all phased. He hardly seemed to give them a glance as he came into the room, pulled a chair up to the bed and sat down next to Henry.

Abe reached out a hand and took Henry's in his own. Henry, having been so tired and spent only then seemed to notice Abe was there. His face lit up slightly with recognition at Abe's gesture. Jo was surprised by affectionate touch and the tender look Abe gave Henry as he looked into his face.

"Abe..." Henry greeted his voice raw and gruff from tears and fatigue. "I'm sorry."

Poor Henry. Jo thought it must be such a burden to be so sensitive and thinking yourself in the wrong so often. He had recently told her that Abe hated it when he became 'too emotional.' She had thought that was only a natural feeling for a child to have around their parent. She had thought he was speaking about the way he treated Abe and Abe feeling Henry was too emotional but she hadn't known it applied in this way too. Henry thought Abe would be upset that he had gotten so distraught about this death.

Abe, however, from his caring manner at the moment didn't seem to be bothered in the least by Henry's reaction or his inability to manage his emotions. Abe smiled very kindly at Henry. "Don't be stupid old man," Abe teased.

Jo would have been hesitant to make such a joke at a time like this but she was pleasantly surprised to see that Henry responded to it well. He even smiled, for the first time since they had retrieved him from the river. Abe also smiled and reached out his other hand to touch Henry's face briefly. The look of deep affection on Abe's face made Jo wonder how she had ever missed the obvious connection between them.

She also, suddenly, felt like an intruder. The intimacy of their relationship made her feel like she shouldn't be witnessing this. What place did she have in all of this? She knew Henry's secret, yes, but what else did she really know? What did she know about Henry and his struggles? What did she knew about Abe and his? Tears sprung up in her eyes for some inexplicable reason.

Abe pulled his hand away from Henry's face but left the other holding his hand. Abe looked up at her briefly and she quickly looked away, embarrassed for some reason that she had been caught watching them even though they both knew full well that she was there. "It's good to have Jo here isn't?" Abe asked, his gaze now directed back at Henry.

Jo held her breath as she waited on Henry's answer. She didn't mean to but she couldn't help it. The tears still stung her eyes and she realized how desperately she wanted him to say yes. She had wanted a deeper connection with Henry for a while but no more than right now. Henry turned slightly and looked at her. The dullness that had been in his eyes had faded some, and a bit of his old self seemed to be returning. The moment felt so long before he spoke. "Yes it is," he said giving her a small smile now.

She felt the tears earnestly but now knew the reason for their being there. Jo forced herself to smile back at Henry even though her sight was greatly blurred. Henry turned back around but Abe was looking at her now. "She's taking good care of you," he said quietly, his words were directed at Henry but he was still looking directly at her.

His eyes were so serious and his gaze was so full she stopped, stunned by it. His look was full of meaning and it was at that moment that Jo fully understood. With a sudden start that seemed to steal her breath away she knew exactly why she was here.

She knew why Abe had asked her here even though she really didn't have a purpose for being here. It was clearly obvious that Abe hadn't needed her help; him and Henry had been going through this together for years. He hadn't asked her to come so she could offer her assistance to him; he had been offering his to her. Abe had invited her over for the specific purpose of letting her in. She had been told Henry's secret months ago but Abe was now bringing her in to the full responsibility of it.

For a moment, she saw all of what Abe must be feeling. She saw the weight that sat on his shoulders. She could see the weariness from carrying this burden. But more than anything else she saw the sorrow he felt in giving it over. She understood what this night really meant. It wasn't enough to know Henry's secret and guard it. Abe wanted to know that she could and was willing to take care of Henry too, not just his secret. She saw the understanding in Abe's eyes that said he knew he would not bear this responsibility forever. One day he wanted her to take his place and this night was about starting that turning over process.

Two large tears now fell from her eyes and rolled down her face and she was glad Henry was turned away. Abe had turned his attention back to Henry and she quickly wiped her eyes. She struggled to compose herself as Abe gave Henry some sleeping pills that he took without a fight.

It took a little while for the medicine to take effect but for the first time since his death Henry seemed at peace. Surrounded by Jo and Abe he looked as if he felt safe and soon enough his eyes were drooping and he was drifting off into a well-deserved sleep.

Shortly after Henry had fallen asleep Jo excused herself and got ready to go home. She figured Henry would be out for a while and she had left him with a note to call her when he woke up if he felt up to it. Now that he was taken care of, she could admit her own need for rest. She had so much on her mind and she was exhausted from everything she felt. The sun was just starting to come up as she stood on the curb getting ready to hail a cab. She had so much to think about but she was trying to force herself not to dwell on it yet so she could focus on her much needed sleep. She was already dreaming about her comfortable, waiting bed when a voice interrupted her.

"Jo! Wait up," Abe said quickly walking out of the shop after her.

"Is everything alright?" she asked turning to him and worrying that something else might be wrong.

"Oh yeah, everything's fine," he said waving a hand as he caught up with her. "I just wanted to make sure that we didn't scare you away. I promise that Henry usually handles his deaths better than this. It is rarely this difficult for him."

Jo let out a sigh of relief that something else hadn't come up. "You didn't scare me off," she promised. "The way I figure it, with what he goes through, he's entitled to feel whatever and how much ever he wants."

Abe smiled, obviously happy to hear her say this. Silence hung around them as something unsaid, but obviously needing to be said, stood between them. She remembered the look that he had given her when they had been back in Henry's room and everything she thought it meant.

She had known before tonight that it was privilege to know Henry's secret but she had failed to realize all the responsibility that came with it. And she certainly hadn't thought about what it would mean someday when Abe was no longer here. And hadn't realized that one day it was all going to be up to her.

"I hope I did alright," she said nervously as she battled the building emotions within her.

"You did great," he said encouragingly. "Just like I knew you would. Really, this was one of Henry's darker moods and you knew just how to help him. If you can handle this you can handle anything!"

But Jo wasn't so sure. She felt so foolish that it hadn't thought about all of this yet. One day, Henry was going to lose his son. How would he handle that? How would she?

Remembering the look she'd seen in Abe's eyes, realizing what it meant, what this night had all been about the tears she'd been fighting off all night finally made themselves known.

"Abe...I'm sorry, I didn't realize."

Abe looked at her seriously and a bit nervously, as that unsaid thing between them had now been pulled out into the open. "And now that you do?" he asked.

This was the real reason he had asked her to come along tonight. Their cards were all laid out on the table and he needed to know: Was she willing to someday take his place in all of this?

"I accept it wholeheartedly," she said with feeling. "I will count it a privilege." Now that she had started crying, she was finding it hard to stop. She hadn't wanted to do this but she was too tired to fight it off any longer. She looked down at the ground feeling embarrassed with herself.

"Well, don't worry, kid," Abe said with a small laugh, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "I don't plan on going anywhere any time soon. I have every intention of tormenting Henry for as long as I possibly can."

He was joking now but Jo just couldn't laugh. "But you and him...you're so close," she said her voice wavering, as she looked back up at him. She knew that her relationship with Henry, as beautiful and full as it was, paled in comparison to the closeness Henry and Abe shared.

Abe became a little more serious but he was not despairing like she felt herself becoming. She crossed her arms around herself in a vain attempt to make herself feel stronger against the flood. "Don't be so hard on yourself," Abe said in a kind voice. "Me and Henry, we've been together a long time. I can't even tell you how many times we've done this together. That will all come in time."

He said it with so much confidence and reassurance it made it all the more difficult for Jo to remain strong. "But how do you know it will?" she asked, the fear and uncertainty she felt no longer concealed. How do you know it will be enough? That I will be enough? she thought.

Abe took a deep breath before he spoke, placing both his hands firming on her arms as he spoke. "Jo, you are not here by chance. It is not an accident that you know Henry's secret. You weren't told just because you found a piece of evidence that he couldn't explain away. That was only the culmination of something I'd been telling him to do for months."

"I don't understand," Jo admitted.

"I had been telling Henry for months that he needed to tell you his secret, that he could trust you."

"But why? Why would you?"

Abe paused and looked away for a moment his composure falling for a second. "Jo...I knew, almost from the very beginning, that you were the one who was mean to...replace me."

Jo almost winced at his chosen words. The idea was so hard to think about and was made even more difficult by hearing Abe himself voice it. She tried to speak, even opened her mouth but she had no words, the shock of his having stolen her voice away. What could she possibly say? But Abe seemed to anticipate this and was already prepared to explain.

"Henry is special," he continued on. "He's a lot of work to take care of but he is worth every effort. It seemed to me that you were just the right kind of person for the job."

She had never heard Abe speak so honestly or emotionally as this and it was about her no less. "What made you think that?"

"Almost since the first day that Henry met you he's been changing. He is, in all the best ways, different. He tried to ignore the change and would deny it if it were brought up but it's there and you are the reason for it. He is like I haven't seen him in a long time and that's a very good thing."

"I'm the lucky one," Jo said empathically finally smiling at Abe through her tears.

Abe smiled at her words and looked as if he wanted to say something else but wondered whether or not he should. She looked at him waiting for him to speak, her patience indicating that he should. "Do...do you love him?" he asked quietly.

Abe asked it so softly and nervously. Again, she wondered how she could have ever missed how obviously this man was Henry's son. His question was one that Jo hadn't truly faced herself. It was one that her and Henry had been skirting around these past couple of months. It felt strange to admit it first to Abe and yet she knew the answer with such perfect certainty couldn't deny it. "Very much."

Abe nodded, seeming to have expected this answer but still very reassured by the confirmation.

"Thank you for everything," Jo added quickly. "Thank you for letting me in on this."

"No, Jo. Thank you. You really have no idea how much this all means to me."

"I will take care of him, Abe...for as long as I am able," she rushed on, the words just spilling out now. "I promise," she said, truly overcome. She was overwhelmed to think of the worry Abe had on his shoulders and how he was willing to ask this of her, that he trusted her to do this on the day when we wouldn't be able to himself.

He was apparently deeply affected as well but trying hard to not let it all show. "Come here," he said, his voice gruff with emotion, reaching out for her and taking her in a hug and holding her tight. She held onto him for several minutes in the early morning sunlight as they both tried, and failed, to hide their tears from the other.

"Listen to us," he said finally with a laugh. "We're getting soft. That big hearted lug rubs off on you, you know?"

Jo laughed "Tell me about it." Abe was trying to down play it but this was comforting and she was glad of it.

"Now," he said as he finally pulled away. "You go home and get some rest. When Henry gets to feeling more like himself I'm sure he will be eager to berate you with a long list of apologies for his behavior tonight. You'll need to be well-rested to get through that," he joked.

"I look forward to it." She was only half joking.

Jo got in a cab and finally headed home. She was exhausted both physically and emotionally but she was smiling. She was actually happy because, for the first time since learning Henry's secret, she didn't feel confused. That secret and everything knowing it entailed had, tonight, proven to be even more complicated than she'd thought. And yet, she now had a new sense of peace, one that she'd been looking for ever since the truth had turned her world upside down. The responsibility of being a keeper of that secret would be even greater than she'd first recognized but she now finally understood her place in all of this.

Though Abe was a jokester so much of the time Jo knew how wise he was. He had given her something truly invaluable, something that, despite his every desire to make her feel comfortable, Henry just could not. Knowing that he, who already acted as Henry's guardian, believed in her really did make her feel like she could do this. She thought now that maybe that was what she had needed to know all along. Whatever the solution had been, the confusion that had been swirling around in head was now settled. Abe had allowed her to cut in on his special place with Henry and though it was hard to describe how that felt she exactly she did know she was undeniably grateful for it.