After the Final Hours tour ended in New Orleans, we could finally return home, though neither I, or the kids really felt like returning to Britain. So, after a load of shipping and packing and flying stuff over, we'd finally settled into a rather large penthouse in Manhattan. The only reason I loved it so much, was that when the sun set, I could see all the lights and it reminded me of how much Rose loved seeing the world light up at night. Anyway, apparently the school I was sending the kids to they were required to do a sport as well as a cultural event, Aubella did choir and dance – which was miraculously regarded as a sport – and Jude actually had to try out for something, so he picked football, considering it sounded just like footie we had back at home – which is basically soccer – I tried to tell him that football and footie were two very different things, but he wouldn't listen. For the second time in my life, I got a call from a school about Jude.

"Hello, is this Jude Holt's father speaking," the sound of papers ruffling was evident, "Harry?"

"Yes, what's the issue?" I asked.

More ruffling, somebody else took the phone in their hands, "dad, why didn't you tell me footie was so different from football?" Jude asked, and I was trying not to laugh.

"Jude, I did. You just didn't listen." I said half-sternly, half trying not to burst out into laughter, "what happened?"

"I think I broke my arm." He said casually.

"Jude, seriously?" I asked, thinking he was joking.

"Really, father, I think my arm is broken." He said, this time I believed him.

"Good Lord, okay, I'll come pick you up and drag you to the hospital. Stay where you are." I said, and there was a small hum of agreement afterward before I hung up.

Nonetheless, Jude had broken his arm due to a rather large lad tackling him to the ground during try-outs. And whilst he was getting an x-ray, I wandered around a little – more like paced around, due to the fact that Jude's arm was broken! – I stopped when I heard crying coming from a room up ahead. Any normal person probably would've not stopped to listen, but I suppose I'm a bit more impetuous than most people, so I walked up to the room, peering in to see a woman around my age, basically crying her eyes out, and by the way she was crying indicated that she was not weeping of joy, she was weeping because she was pregnant. When she looked up and saw me, she jerked a little and I stepped back a little in fright, I didn't expect her to see me, so I kind of just stood there.

"Can I help you?" She spoke with a crisp American accent that snapped me out of my trance. If it weren't for the make-up running down her face and her hair in knots, I suppose she would be considered rather beautiful.

"I was just walking around, and I heard crying, so I stopped to investigate, I suppose." I answered, still leaning in the doorway.

"Well, I'm not fine, so well done, Sherlock." She said sardonically.

"May I ask what happened?" I asked, hoping she would answer.

"Why?" She countered, not meeting my gaze.

"Well, it's been proven that talking to a complete stranger about something that bothers you works very well, that's basically what a psychiatrist is. You don't trust your psychiatrist, you just trust he's getting paid to listen to you." I replied.

"So, they sent a shrink over?" She asked, sighing, "well thank you, doctor whoever, but I don't need a shrink."

"I'm not a shrink, well technically speaking, not for this hospital. I'm just here because my son's arm broke whilst he was trying out for football." I laughed a little, and even though her head was down, I could see a small smile make it's way across her face.

"He must be kind of small then." She replied.

"He's a violinist, not an athlete." I said, laughing quietly, "what's your name?"

"June." She replied softly, and I stepped inside, sitting down on one of the chairs. I was really not trying to be intrusive, I just genuinely felt sorry for June.

"Well, I'm Harry. Pleased to meet you." I said, smiling a little.

"You too, Harry." She looked up, and her eyes were a nice shade of blue, I quite enjoyed looking into them, "so, you're not a hospital shrink?"

"I am a certified psychiatrist, but no." I said.

"So, what exactly are you doing here?" She asked, laughing a little.

"Well, June. As I have said, my son broke his arm, and he's busy getting an x-ray so I wandered, or rather paced around the hospital in worry, and heard you crying, so I stepped inside, and here I am." I replied, smiling softly.

"A good Samaritan, right?" She asked.

"No, just a curious Brit." I replied, and she laughed softly.

"Well, if you must know, I found out I was pregnant a while ago, and I hadn't told my boyfriend about it, and well, I came here for my check-up, to find out that I was in fact expecting, and he was yelling at me, saying that he doesn't want anything with this child, and so he got escorted out of the hospital by security, and I was just sitting here crying when you walked in." She explained.

"Quite a story you've got a story there." I replied, "your boyfriend sounds like a little bit of a douchebag."

She laughed a little, "he's not your average guy. But he grows on you, once well, you get to know him, I guess."

"One of those." I said, smiling, "well if it helps, I think he made a huge mistake."

"Leaving his naggy, pregnant girlfriend behind? No, he made a pretty good decision." She replied sarcastically.

"No, not that, leaving a very nice and quite beautiful woman behind." I said, and I saw the red creeping up her neck.

"Mom always warned me the English were charmers." She replied bashfully.

"My apologies, but it's true. We are a bunch of charmers." I laughed softly and she did too. My phone vibrated in my pocket with a text from Aubella going:

father where art thou??????

I didn't reply, I just stuffed it in my pocket, and looked back to June.

"I've got to go." I said, and she sighed.

"Thanks. For this." She smiled as I stood up.

"Listen, if you ever need anything, take this, and call me." I smiled, handing her a business card. It was excessively formal but it had both my personal and home number on it, so it would work.

"Thank you, I will." She replied, smiling still as I walked out of the room.

I caught up with Insley and the rest of my panicky family members in the observation room, some doctor told me that Jude was all finished up and ready to go, Aubella had already scribbled on his arm, writing something about him being a violinist and not an athlete. Insley signed it with a little smiley face, and Drew actually drew something on it, with the writing under it going 'hey, little bro. your arm is gonna stink when you take this thing off. drew (:' I took the pen and wrote 'how dare you break your arm?' and he laughed at me. Afterward, Drew and his fiancé, Jane Seymour I think, invited us for dinner. Jude agreed because he was ravenous, and Insley said he'd go but he didn't know what his wife would think about it. Anyway, we went out and the Jane girl was very nice, great with children, considering she was expecting, and she invited the whole group of us over to her engagement party that weekend in the Upper East. I'd never been there, really, since I was mostly a middle class citizen, or rather lived like one, I always thought the upper class were too stuck-up for their own good anyway. Jane seemed like too much of a nice girl to come from an upper class family, but I suppose I judged her too quickly.

The engagement party was quite fun, when I arrived I was ushered into the backyard where there were a bunch of people of all ages, having the time of their lives apparently. Jane introduced me to her parents, her mother Carol had a wrinkled smile and pretty eyes, and her father Dave was at least four times bigger than I was.

"Mom, dad, this is my boyfriend's dad, I figured you might want to meet him?" Jane said gracefully, she had a certain finesse to her, the way she lightly glided across the vicinity and spoke softly, gave her a certain quintessence.

"Hello, there!" Her father said, and I smiled as big as I could, trying not to panic just a little when he extended his hand to shake. Honestly, I had never entertained the idea of shaking hands – and I suppose it was only because I hung around Insley so much – but nonetheless I never enjoyed shaking hands with someone, basically sharing each other's sweat, it half repulsed me. Though, I was also a pretty altruistic person, so sometimes I got over my tiny repulsion for shaking hands – that day was not one of them – I politely declined the shake by smiling through it, and though Dave looked just a bit offended, I tried not to be rude anymore. (At this point I realized I was spending too much time with Insley and picking up his germophobic ways, and then I swore at myself.)

"Greetings, you must be Dave and Carol, yeah?" I asked, half desperate for him to forget about my little faux pas, and not run me over with his truck later.

"Yes," Carol smiled, but I could see a bit of confusion behind her eyes, "we never quite got your name." Jane blushed a notable pink next to me when her mother gave her an importunate stare.

"Right," I gave Jane a reassuring smile, and then looked back to her parents, "I'm Harry Holt, Drew's father."

"Pleased to meet you." Dave seemed to have forgetting my grave blunder and was now full on smiles. (Though, I was still scared he was going to run me over with his truck later.)

"Pleasure is all mine, Jane is a lovely young woman." I replied, smiling as politely as I could muster.

"Drew is such a gentleman, and so very dashing." Carol said, and I'm not sure why, but I felt my cheeks heating up at the compliment, no one had ever really given me feedback on my children – except my mum, but she has to love them, right? – at that moment I felt on top of the world, for some reason, as if Carol Seymour had just said Drew was the best bloody man on the planet. I honestly felt greater than I ever had, and I realised that these kids were my pride and joy, without Drew, Jude and Aubella, I'm just a bloke who wrote a book. Without my children, I'm just Harry, I'm not a father, I'm not proud, I'm just human. There's something so beautiful about this memory, because at that moment, I was so happy, and I felt complete, as if I had actually done something right in my life, and I could feel Rose's smile radiating down on me in the sun rays, and I was content.