Prologue

Jack drove his car slowly down the street, silently noting the quaintness of the neighborhood. He slowed to a stop in front of a lovely little craftsman, and let his engine idle while he took in the scene. It was dusk, and light from the big picture window illuminated the small but tidy lawn in front. It was the house he'd always wanted. Full flower beds and soft shrubbery really added to the curb appeal.

"It's lovely, isn't it?"

Jack glanced sideways at the brunette in the passenger seat and smiled. "It is," he answered. His wife put her hand on his leg.

"Ready to make our appearance?" she asked, an anxious smile on her face. He loved her smile, even the anxious one, which always spread to her eyes. He glanced into the rearview mirror and could make out the back of the rear-facing car seat behind his wife. His heart practically melted as he pictured his two-month old little girl quietly sleeping.

He looked back at the house, and couldn't help ruminating about the rocky path that led them to this point. His mind drifted back to a time and place that seemed eons ago and thousands of miles away.

Jack had just turned 23. It was late summer and he was set to begin his senior year of college. He and Abigail, is beautiful wife for last year and a half, lived in a small rented townhouse. The complex was undergoing renovations, and while the work took place, they endured a three-week stay at Abigail's parents' house.

They were about halfway into their stay at Abigail's childhood home, and as usual the place was a flurry of activity. Being raised by his grandparents in relative serenity, Jack found the boisterousness of a home with five kids to be captivating. Jack sat on the couch with his geography textbook open on his lap. Reading was useless, so he just sat and enjoyed the action. Abigail, at 22, was the oldest of five. She was sitting next to him on the couch in an animated conversation with her 19-year-old sister, Analise, who was sitting in the overstuffed chair across the room. As usual, they were holding a civil argument over some point or another. Jack had no idea what the argument was about, nor did he care. He was more focused on observing the scene in front of him, mentally noting that these sisters were a fascinating measure of contrasts.

Abigail had the most stunning brown eyes. Those were probably the first features of hers Jack fell in love with. They anchored her beautiful face perfectly. She also had a great smile, and her thick brown mane of wavy hair framed her face as it fell just past her shoulders. She was what one might call voluptuous, not thin and not fat. Somewhere in the middle. Her figure had a tendency to draw the attention of most men. She worked hard to keep it, though she'd softened a little in the years he'd known as proof of her losing battle. Her large breasts were soft and heavy, though not sagging. More importantly to Jack, were the sensitivity they seemed to have, and Jack thought about how nicely they responded to his attention.

Like Abigail, Analise was tall and curvy. Her curves were more subtle than her sister's, and her physique a little firmer. Analise had been an athlete in high school, and it showed in her body's tightness. Her breasts just bit smaller than Abigail's and rode higher on her chest. She had strawberry blond hair that fell in big, soft curls down just past her shoulders. She had deep, passionate green eyes that she kept shrouded in smoky eye liners and mascara. She and Abigail also both had fair skin that burned easily when they spent too much time in the sun.

However, it was the contrasts in personality that Jack found much more fascinating than any differences in the physical bodies. They both were dramatic and passionate, but Abigail's strong emotions seemed rooted in morality and fairness. She was every underdog's advocate, and was definitely the "mother hen" of the siblings. She was driven more by helping others around her than she was by many of the materialistic things that twentysomethings were often driven by. Her wardrobe was appealing but comparatively small. She wore only enough makeup as a situation required. Her ideal day was to take long scenic drives and enjoy the wonders of the natural world around her. Her siblings jokingly called her a tree hugger, but that wasn't entirely accurate. She enjoyed the outdoors and protected the environment, but she wasn't obsessed with it.

Analise, on the other hand, preferred to spend her time club hopping and visiting whatever cool party happened to be going on. She joined a notorious sorority and always seemed to be surrounded by friends. Actually, friends might be too strong a word. She was surrounded by people who were just like her, but that list of individuals changed as often as the weather. She always wanted to be the center of attention, and seemed driven to make people like her. Not all people, but those she felt mattered in her quest to take society by storm. She often spent time in trouble with parents, teachers and occasionally the law, and she encouraged her younger siblings in similar behaviors. Analise had a wardrobe three times the size of Abigail's and enough makeup supplies to fill the back of her year-old ragtop Sebring. She was confrontational, self-centered and manipulative, at least from Jack's perspective, and she frustrated him to no end. It was no secret that he and Analise didn't get along very well.

Jack eyes moved to the teen sitting on the floor in front of Analise. Allison was leaning back against Analise's legs, her own knees hugged up tight against her chest. She was wincing at each rough stroke of Analise's hairbrush through her long, straight brown hair. It was obvious that Analise's emotion of the moment was taking its toll on Allison's head.

"Ow, Annie," the younger girl whined. "That hurts."

"Don't be such a wimp," Analise snapped back. "Blame yourself. You always wear your hair in that dumb ponytail. Of course it's going to get tangled. Now stop fidgeting." Analise turned her attention back to the argument with Abigail. Jack continued to watch Allison.

She was 13-going-on-14, and though she was very much the spoiled little sister, Jack couldn't help but be fond of her. Kind of like the little sister he never had. She was fairly innocent in nature, but was definitely used to getting her own way. She stood about 5'6", a couple of inches shorter than her sisters, and was slender; she hadn't yet developed the curves of her two older sisters. However, she wasn't 'little girl' slender any more. She had long, well formed legs that seemed to go on forever. She was a soccer player and had developed a trim body, complete with perky, grapefruit-sized breasts. She also had straight, brown hair that reached the middle of her back, framing a face with full lips and piercing sapphire-blue eyes. Having not yet developed the desire for makeup, her face was youthful, natural and fresh.

Jack tore his attention away from the sisters and glanced through the French doors into the backyard, where Abigail's two brothers, Brad and Ben, just older and just younger than Allison, were wrestling on the trampoline. Both brothers were soft-spoken, a huge contrast to their outgoing sisters, but were generally good guys.

Jack looked down at his open textbook. He had to focus, and that wasn't going to happen sitting here. Excusing himself, he stood up and went to his and Abigail's room about halfway down the hall, which was across the hall from both the bathroom and Allison's bedroom. He gave the door a nudge closed as he passed through, which left it open about a foot or so. Then he flopped down on the bed.

A short time later, after he finished his reading, he was sitting on the edge of his bed making some phone calls for a group project for one of his marketing classes. As he made his calls, he was absently looking through his doorway across the hall into Allison's room, not really focusing on anything in particular. He completed one call and looked down at his notebook for the next number, when something caught his attention. A blur in his peripheral vision? A subtle sound? Who knows? He glanced up and saw Allison going into her room wrapped in a towel, her wet hair dripping down the cloth that covered her back. That wasn't unusual. Allison had never been shy about walking from the bathroom to her room in a towel. However, she must not have realized Jack was there, because what he saw next surprised him.