The bell hanging in the doorway lightly chimed as they entered the Misty Memories. For a late Sunday morning, the popular old fashioned cafe and malt shoppe, which was located a few blocks away from North Central Texas University's campus, was slow.

They sat down on the stools in front of the counter. Co-owner of the restaurant, Rita Millwood looked up from reading The Big Horn. The waitress smiled at them, "Well, if it isn't the Hamels."

They smiled appreciatively in return.

"What brings you two here today?" Rita said handing them two menus.

She smiled, "We wanted to thank you and your husband for the cappuccino machine and popcorn maker you gave us as wedding gifts."

"It was our pleasure," Rita said waving it off dismissively. "And it's our pleasure to treat you both free breakfasts this morning."

He said, "That's very nice of you, Rita, but I don't think we can let you do that."

"I can do whatever I want, and I want to do this for you two," Rita told him, lightly smacking his shoulders. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Malan?"

She covered her laugh with her right hand, where she wore her engagement and wedding rings. He looked at her. "What?"

Shaking her head, she advised, "Never argue with someone about giving you a free meal unless it's a violation of ethics."

A hint of amusement was reflected in his eyes. He teased. "Is that just one of your many principles?"

She shrugged, "It's worked so far."

"I suppose for you it would," he said, adding teasingly. "I had to marry a journalist."

A wry smile spread across her lips. Shaking her finger at him in a scolding manner, she bantered back, "I tried to warn you about that."

Leaning over and kissing her, he murmured, "Bit late for that."

Rita laughed at their antics. After they disengaged from their exchange, the waitress said, "Are you two ready to order?"

They exchanged looks. He gestured toward her, "Ladies first."

She looked impressed. She whispered conspiratiously to Rita, "He's a real sweet talker, isn't he?"

He laughed appreciatively. He teased, "You can be a real ham when you want to be."

Her wry grin broadened. "Is that a back handed compliment?"

"No, it was just a comment," he said, flipping her a twisted teasing grin. "Just don't give up your day job, OK?"

"Oh, I don't intend to," she said, adding suggestively. "Because I've throughly enjoyed your performances in bed."

His eyes wizened in surprise. He was pleased even though he'd rather she keep this kind of comment private. He gently chided her, "That's a loaded remark."

She flushed embarrassed by the transgression she'd committed. She quickly changed the subject, "I think I'll take your fruit crepes this morning, Rita."

You could cut the tension between them with a knife, Rita thought. The waitress felt sorry for Lathal, who tended to shoot off her mouth about her passions without thinking about it. She felt Malan was being a little hard on his wife although she didn't blame him for scolding her for publically making a suggestive remark regarding their private lives.

"OK," Rita said, laying her hand on Lathal's arm. "And I didn't hear a word you said."

She gazed at the co-owner of Misty Memories appreciatively. Rita was being awfully nice to her, but she knew her husband won't let her off the hook that easily.

Newlyweds, Rita thought wistfully. She related to the experience even though she and Hank had been newlyweds many years ago. And being a newlywed certainly had changed from her and Hank's time, but she still empathized with their frustrations -- the honeymoon, or break in period, in any couple's new life together was like a roller coaster ride. The honeymoon, or break in period, was a highly emotional time of discovery and growth when the bond of love deepened -- it was definitely an adventure.

And Rita had interfered in theirs, and she wished she hadn't.

Rita got back to business. "What can I get you, Malan?"

"Your breakfast special," he said simply, handing back the menu.

He was being a jerk by isolating his wife with the cold, silent treatment. Rita wanted to slap some sense into him, but she reminded herself: They'd have to work it out for themselves.

Tears misted in her eyes as she watched him thoughtfully sip the cappuccino that Rita had served him. She'd done him wrong, and she knew it. But what hurt most was they hadn't been married a day yet and already they were having a husband and wife spat. This didn't bode well for them -- but perhaps she was just overreacting. She knew he'd forgive her. All she had to do was apologize to him and promise not to make the same mistake again.

"Malan," she said softly.

The way she said his name, beckoning him, always captured his attention. Turning toward her, he regarded her with a mixture of hurt and anger in his brown eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said with tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

His expression softened. Guilt flooded him. She was crying because he'd hurt her. He'd treated her badly. He was such a jerk.

He couldn't bear to see her crying. It broke his heart.

"Lathal, don't," he said gently, touching her face.

Her tears didn't subside. She sniffled, "I'm such an idiot for regularly shooting off my mouth without thinking about it."

"You're not an idiot," he said insistently.

Obviously she didn't believe him because she was still crying. He shook his head, silently kicking himself for hurting her like this.

"It's my fault. I'm a jerk," he told her wanting to make it right between them.

"You're not a jerk," she said through her tears.

"Yes, I am," he said, his heart aching to make up with her. He leaned over and tenderly kissed her lips. "I'm sorry, Lathal, please forgive me."

"Malan, I'm sorry," she said kissing him, expressing the deep love she felt within her soul for him.

He instantly became tender, gentle and affectionate. He kissed her passionately. His fingers intertwined around her hand clutching desperately at his shirt. He murmured huskily, "Lathal, I'm sorry."

Swinging through the kitchen doors with their food, Rita found them engaged in a rather passionate exchange. It warmed her heart to see them kissing and making up.

On the other hand, this was one of the few times Rita had publically seen them display their affections. Their intimate display freely expressed the strength, depth and power of the love between them.

Ah newlyweds. Those were the days, Rita thought smiling wistfully. Perhaps she should suggest they take it to a motel room, but they probably couldn't. Most motels didn't have check in until after 4 p.m. and she suspected that they had other things to do.

While they ate, Rita chatted with them about where they were staying that day and the next, where they planned to go on their honeymoon and their future plans. When it was almost 2 o' clock, they told Rita they had to go and thanked her and her husband for the free breakfast and the wedding gifts.

They arrived at his apartment 25 minutes later. His landlord Mrs. Augsburg and his mother, who had her daughter-in-law's Aspire packed with her and their stuff, waited for them.

Clarissa greeted her son with a kiss on the cheek. Then she affectionately hugged her daughter-in-law. "How are you, Honey?"

"Fine," she said.

Clarissa sensed immediately that something was bothering Lathal but decided not to comment on it at the moment. While her son was occupied with Mrs. Augsburg during the final inspection and walk through of the apartment, she saw her daughter-in-law casually slip outside. So she followed her.

Her feet brushed against the grains of sands as she swayed back and forth on the swing on the playground in the middle of the apartment complex. There was a far away look in her eyes.

Sitting down on the swing beside her daughter-in-law, Clarissa regarded her, "Lathal, are you OK?"

The light squeaking of the chain in response to her weight and rhythmic rocking in the swing answered her. Clarissa's eyebrow furrowed in concern. "Lathal, did you and Malan have a fight?"

She carefully leaned back in the swing, her long blonde hair cascaded hovering mere inches above the ground and her sandal soles touched the skies above. Clarissa knew Lathal was quiet, but her daughter-in-law's silence proved to her that something was wrong.

"If you're worried that I'll tell him, Lathal, I won't," Clarissa promised her. "Whatever you say will be between you and I."

"We had a fight at breakfast this morning, but it was over something really stupid," she quietly confessed.

"Couples have stupid little arguments all the time," Clarissa said knowingly.

"On the first day of their marriage?" She asked bewildered.

"Even on the first day of their marriage," Clarissa assured her. "But that's not what's wrong with you, is it, Lathal?"

She was taken aback by her mother-in-law's perceptive intuition. Sensing her daughter-in-law's hesitance to say anything, Clarissa told her, "It's not like you can't talk to him about this, which I'm sure you will, but I have the feeling you need a woman's input. And there's nothing wrong with that."

She regarded her mother-in-law. "Is it true what they say that women have a sixth sense when it comes to knowing that they're pregnant?"

Clarissa wondered if Lathal had asked this question because she thought she was pregnant. Or was it merely a reflection of her daughter-in-law's fears and concerns regarding motherhood? Whatever it was she'd have to proceed with caution.

"Yes," Clarissa said, adding slowly. "Do you think you're pregnant, Lathal?"

She searched her feelings for a moment. "No," she said slowly. "Or at least I'm not yet."

Clarissa laid her hand on her daughter-in-law's arm. "What do you mean?"

She sighed, "Malan said he wanted to get me pregnant when we were making love on our wedding night. I thought he might have said in the throws of passion but now I'm not so sure."

She was afraid, and Clarissa knew it. Her daughter-in-law's fear was understandable, but there still was reason for concern.

"For reasons I don't quite understand I know you think you'll be a bad mother, Lathal," Clarissa said. "But that's not true. I know you feel like you're not ready for the responsibilities of motherhood; you're very good with children and would make an excellent mom."

"I don't want to be a mom," she declared. "I have goals and achievements I want to accomplish. I want to be a journalist. I want to be a writer. I don't want to be strapped down with a baby. Is it so wrong or selfish of me to want things for myself first before having a baby?"

"No, honey," Clarissa said in understanding. "But you can have a baby and still be a journalist and a writer."

"I know," she said softly. "But I don't know if I want a child -- ever."

Clarissa was surprised. "Why?"

"I don't want to be like my mother," she said.

Now Clarissa was beginning to get a clear picture. She laughed softly, "No woman wants to be like her mother when she becomes a mother."

"Maybe," she admitted grudgingly. "But my mother didn't want to have me."

Clarissa looked shocked. "That's not true. You wouldn't be here, Lathal, if your parents didn't want you."

"Oh, my father wanted me," she said with certainty. "But my mother doesn't even like children. She loved my father, but she didn't want any of us. She told me so."

Lathal saw her mother as a bitter woman who regretted having to sacrifice everything to raise children. But what she failed to realize was that perhaps her mother had willingly made that sacrifice because of true love, the same love that Clarissa knew Lathal felt for her son.

"Maybe you misunderstood her, Lathal, but I think this is something you definitely need to discuss with your mom," Clarissa advised.

She had no intention of discussing this issue with her mother. As far as she was concerned she was discussing this with her mother, Clarissa. She moved on, "My not having children doesn't only have to do with my mom. My sister, Ginger, was pregnant with my niece before she married Ponzone. I know quite a few girls who have gotten knocked up by the time the honeymoon was over. I just don't want this happening to me. I don't want to be like anyone else."

Reaching past the swing's chain, Clarissa hugged her. "You're very special, Lathal. You couldn't be like anyone else. You're one in a million."

"I don't know why I'm so bent out of shape about this," she said holding on tightly to her mother-in-law. "It's not like I don't love Malan, or I wouldn't like to have his baby."

"I know, honey," Clarissa said, her voice filled with the love she felt for her son and her daughter-in-law.

"It's just that we talked about this. Malan promised me we'd wait to have children," she said, looking at her mother-in-law with teary eyes. "But what if he's changed his mind?"

Malan had as many issues as Lathal did about parenthood. Malan feared he'd be a bad father because of his father. Like his wife, her son was also selfish, he wanted to pursue acting, not be tied down to the responsibilities of fatherhood. Like his wife, he didn't feel he was ready nor was he even sure he could handle the responsibilities of fatherhood.

Basically both of them were afraid of parenthood.

"You'll have to talk to Malan about that, Lathal," Clarissa said wisely. "Like tonight when you two go to bed."

"Do you think we should see a doctor about this? I mean I might not even be able to have children."

While infertility was a possibility for both them, Clarissa doubted it. "I think that's a good idea."

"Maybe I should go on the pill again," she said thoughtfully, mostly to herself.

"That's up to you, honey," Clarissa said supportively. "It's your body and what you do to it is up to you, but someone else is involved so I hope you'll discuss this matter with him too."

As he approached the playground, their conversation came to an end. "There you are," he said, regarding them with interest. "I was wondering where you two had gotten off to."

Clarissa softly clapped her hands together. "It was such a nice day. It was a shame not to enjoy it by playing." The look in Lathal's bluish green eyes communicated her appreciation to her mother-in-law for her discretion, support and love.

"Well, I have to be going," Clarissa rose and they followed her to the parking lot. She gave her daughter-in-law an affectionate hug, "Be good to yourself." Then she kissed her son's cheek. "Take care of each other."

As Clarissa drove off in her daughter-in-law's car, they too left the apartment complex. As they drove toward the airport, he said casually, "So what did you and my mom talk about?"

"I take it Mrs. Augsburg was pleased with how you cleared the apartment," she said deftly avoiding his question.

He noticed this but he sensed now was not the time to pursue the matter. He said, "More than pleased. She said she'd really miss having me as a tenant."

"I think she was rather fond of you. She thought of you as her son."

"I know," he said quietly, adding teasingly. "I'm going to miss the ol' bag."

She laughed. "I'll miss her too. She's a nice lady."

"Yeah," he grinned. "She loved you."

They were running behind by the time they arrived at the airport 15 minutes later. They dashed from the parking lot to the terminal. Boarding on his brother's, his wife's and their son's, Kenneth's, flight to LA had just been announced when they reached the gate.

Seeing his uncle and aunt, Kenneth instantly dropped his mother's hand that he'd been holding and ran over to them. The 4-year-old flung himself on his aunt.

Stooping down and scooping him up into her arms, she gave him a bear hug. "Oooh, you're a big boy."

Kenneth rewarded his aunt with a kiss, and then looked beseechingly at his uncle. "Uncle Malan, promise me that you and Auntie Lathal will come to see me in LA."

He smiled. "We'll stop by to see you when we're in LA this summer."

"Goodie," Kenneth said excitedly. "I'll probably see more of Auntie Lathal than you this summer, won't I, cuz you're going to be acting in Hollywood, right?"

"Right," he said playfully mussing up his nephew's hair. "But I'm going to come to LA as much as I can. I can't leave your aunt by herself."

"Auntie Lathal can take care of herself," Kenneth said as he slid out of his aunt's arms.

"Yes, she can," his smile broadened. "But she'll be in LA and I'll be in Hollywood. We'll be pretty far apart; I'll miss her while I'm gone."

"Oh," Kenneth said without completely understanding why his uncle didn't want to leave his aunt alone. He changed the subject. "While you're in Hollywood, Auntie Lathal will be working at a newspaper in LA, won't she?"

"Yes," he said affectionately hugging his nephew while he swung him above the ground.

"Cool!" Kenneth declared exuberantly.

"Is he monopolizing your attention?" Danielle Hamel asked them.

After regaining his balance, Kenneth zipped over to his mother's side, announcing in one breath, "ThissummerUncleMalanwillbeactinginHollywoodandAuntieLathalwillbeworkingatapaperinLAsoI'llgettoseealotofthem."

Danielle laughed, "I know."

"Isn't that cool?" Kenneth's eyes danced with delight.

"Yes," Danielle said smiling at her son. "Tell your aunt and uncle goodbye because we've got to board the plane."

Stretching his little arms to hug them both together, Kenneth said sadly, "Bye, Auntie Lathal and Uncle Malan."

Crouching down on his nephew's level, he promised, "We'll see you this summer." He straightened as his brother approached them.

The brothers stared at each other in silence for a long moment.

Although Malan was older, Bryce had always been protective of his brother for reasons he didn't quite understand. Like most people, children had been cruel to both of them, but that made Bryce tougher. Bryce had always tried to keep his older brother from getting hurt, but nothing he did could stop that.

Once their father left them, Bryce took it upon himself to be the father figure for both of them. His younger brother was such a protective father figure that he'd interfered in an aspect of his life he hadn't wanted him to -- his love life -- and it cost him losing Lathal forever -- almost.

Lathal had forgiven and buried the hatchet about Bryce's past interference in preventing their relationship. Bryce had told them both that he liked Lathal. The two got along OK, but there was still some animosity between his wife and his younger brother.

Not only was there friction between them because of Bryce's protectiveness but his younger brother was also uptight and overbearing. When their father left them, things were ugly and bad for all of them. While he'd tried to cope by turning to the solace of alcohol, Bryce went with drugs. Bryce's addictions had been as horribly nasty as his but the recovery had matured Bryce much earlier than he'd expected. It caused Bryce to become serious -- and frighteningly his brother became a strict, brutal version of his father. Basically, his younger brother was a jerk; he was sure what exactly Danielle saw in or loved his brother, but that was really none of his business.

There wasn't much either of them had to say to each other.

"Enjoy your honeymoon," Bryce said emotionlessly hugging his brother. "We'll see you this summer."

He shrugged off his brother's unfeeling embrace. "We'll see you this summer."

"Take care, Malan," Danielle kissed his cheek, and then affectionately hugged Lathal. "Have a great time on your honeymoon. We'll see you this summer."

They waved as the threesome boarded the plane. Glancing at his watch, he steered her away from the gate. "We better hurry if we're going to say goodbye to Ginger and her husband before their flight leaves."

They had to run to the other end of the terminal to get the gate where the Corrales awaited their flight to West Texas. Ginger's eyebrows furrowed highlighting the dark expression she wore on her face. "We weren't expecting you two to come see us off."

"You're my sister," she said breathlessly as she rested against the plastic chairs lining the waiting area. "We wanted to say good bye to you before you left."

Ginger's expression softened. It was no secret that she and her eldest sister hadn't been close and had been at odds throughout their youth.

Their father's death six months ago had been a wake up call for the Harveys about the importance of family. As a result, the sisters planned to work on keeping their family ties strong -- they wanted to be close.

"Oh, Lathal," Ginger said, her voice filled with emotion as she tightly hugged her sister. "I expect you to write letters every once in a while."

"Why?" She said, gently chiding her sister. "You never write me back."

"I'm not a writer," Ginger pointed out. "But you are. I like your letters, Lathal. Please stay in touch."

"I will," she promised holding her sister. "I'll send you my address and phone number as soon as I get settled in LA."

"Good," Ginger said pleased looking down at her daughter, Raeya, who was asleep in the baby basket sitting on the waiting chair beside them. "Because if you don't I'm going to come to LA and hunt you down."

Ponzone extended a friendly hand toward Malan. He grinned sloppily as he shook his brother-in-law's hand. "Thank God there's another male in this family. I was beginning to think I was going to be the only sultan in the harem. You both will have to come visit us or let us know if you're in a show in West Texas."

"We will," he said. "But I doubt we'll be in your neck of the woods anytime in the future."

"If you get into trouble on your honeymoon, it's only four hours from Carlsbad to El Paso," Ginger told him. "Lathal can work at the Desert Star if you happened to land some theatrical work in El Paso, Malan."

She rolled her eyes. She appreciated her sister's well meaning intentions but she had no desire to work at the Desert Star even though she technically could.

"Thanks for everything," she said slowly releasing her sister. "You all take care of yourselves; we'll see you whenever we can."

"Be good," Ponzone lightly kissed his sister-in-law's cheek, and affectionately slapping his brother-in-law's back. "See ya later, bro."

Collecting their daughter in the baby basket, the Corrales boarded their plane. On their way to the gate where her mother and her sisters, Yolanda and Bianca, were waiting their flight, which wasn't far from where the Corrales' had been, they grabbed something to eat from one of the airport restaurants.

Bianca and Yolanda snuggled close to her mother, who looked up surprised to see them. Her younger sisters turned their attention in the same direction as their mother's. They were also surprised to see their sister and her husband.

Rising from her seat, Andria Harvey walked over and warmly hugged her daughter. "Lathal, you didn't have to come."

"I know," she said softly, tears misting in her eyes. "It's just that I might not see you for a while."

"Well, I'm glad you came," Andria said, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. Her motherly gaze swept to her daughter's husband. "How are you, Malan?"

"Pretty good," he said quietly.

She noticed the gentle look reflected in his eyes. He wanted to personally thank her mother for the $6,000 wedding gift she'd given them without any of them around. She tugged on her sisters' hands. "Yolanda, Bianca, let's get some ice cream."

Yolanda frowned at her, "We don't want any ice cream."

The insistent look was emphasized in her narrowed eyes. "I want some ice cream, and so do you."

The sisters exchanged looks. They had read the underlining meaning in their sister's eyes.

"You know," Bianca said, pulling Yolanda up with her as she rose. "Ice cream right now sounds really good."

Yolanda agreed, "Yeah, especially if it's Lathal's treat."

"It is my treat," she assured them. "Come with me."

Bianca and Yolanda followed their sister, who repetitively glanced back at her husband, as they headed for a ice cream shop nearby their gate.

The young woman behind the counter smiled at them. "Can I help you?"

She looked at her sisters. "What do you two want?"

Bianca regarded her. "What's going on between Malan and Mom?"

She gracefully folded her hands at her waist. "He's thanking her for the $6,000 she and dad gave us for our wedding."

Yolanda said. "They gave you $6,000?"

She nodded, "That's why I didn't say anything about it at the wedding." Then she begged, "Please don't say anything about this."

"We won't," Bianca promised. "But I hope Mom gives me that much when I get married!"

"Given what dad's funeral must have cost, I'm surprised they gave us that much," she said, "She also paid for part of the wedding and I told her not to give us anything at all."

"Oh," Yolanda said. She saw her sister again look at her husband and her mother talking in the distance. "Do you think they're done over there?"

"Probably," she said. "But let's not go back over there without any ice cream, OK?"

"Gotcha," Bianca said. To the young woman she said, "Two scoops of rocky road in a cup and two scoops of neopolitan in a cup please."

Yolanda said, "Two scoops of fudge ripple in a cup for me."

"I'll take two scoops of chocolate chip cookie dough in a cup," she said paying the young woman $12 for their ice cream.

After they returned to the gate, Bianca handed her mother the cup of Rocky Road.

"Thanks," her mother said looking affectionately at her daughter.

She licked the melting ice cream off her red plastic spoon, and her husband shook his head in amusement as he shyly admired her. She smiled warmly at him, and then realized she'd forgotten to get him some ice cream.

She held her cup out toward him. "Do you want some?"

He smiled softly, "No, thanks."

"Good," she said wryly, holding the cup close to her like a rat protecting its cheese. "More for me then."

He teased, "You didn't plan on sharing your ice cream with me anyway."

Shrugging innocently as she sucked on the ice cream filled spoon in her mouth, she flirted with him.

A broad smile spread across his lips. "I love you, Lathal."

"I love you, Malan," she said rewarding him with a kiss, feeling the passion and desire they'd both suppressed much of the afternoon.

"Flight 1766 to Minneapolis/St. Paul is now boarding through Gate 38C," the airport's public address system informed them.

Andria hugged her daughter, "Be happy, Lathal." Then she turned to hug her son-in-law. "Take care of her."

"I will," he promised.

Andria's eyes were frosted with tears. "Come see me every once in a while."

"We'll try," he said.

Her sisters looked at him nervously. He also felt awkward. None of them knew what to do in this situation.

He told them, "It's OK if you don't want to hug me. I'm not used to how your family shows affection toward each other -- yet."

Yolanda bravely hugged him. "Take care, Malan. Break a leg in Hollywood."

"Thanks," he said softly.

Following her sister's lead, Bianca embraced him, "I'm all for it if you change your mind about hitting the road with you in some musicals."

He laughed appreciatively.

To tease her sister, Bianca kissed her brother-in-law's cheek. "Any time you get tired of Lathal having cows, you can run away and have me in Wisconsin."

Her fingers lightly flicked her sister's arm. "Hey, he's mine."

His eyes twinkled with pleasure as he confirmed her claim by reaching for her hand. He affectionately held her hand in his.

She had tears in her eyes and so did they. Yolanda and Bianca wrapped their arms around their mother's shoulder and they walked up to the flight attendant. They waved as her mother and sisters boarded the plane.

Once they disappeared into the jet way, she turned toward him. He met her gaze with a warm, loving gaze of his own.

They kissed lightly. It was the first time they'd been alone all day.