The fridge was jam packed with food.

He had thought Blair would move back in, so he bought all this food.

But it didn't happen. Now he had no idea what to do with all these supplies.

He called Cecelia.

"Mom, can you ask Freda how to make cold-dispelling soup?"

Wesley almost never got sick, so he didn’t know much about treating even the common cold. Blair wasn't strong enough, and she had stayed too long on the beach tonight. If she didn't get warm soon, she would get sick.

"What?" Too late. Cecelia was really sleepy. She didn't hear him clearly.

"Can you get Freda up?"

"Why?" asked Cecelia, eyes still closed.

"I need to ask her something."

"Oh," Cecelia responded, and then it was quiet.

Wesley knew she must have fallen asleep. He hung up resignedly and called Baldwin.

Baldwin was already awake. He'd been jarred from his sleep by Cecelia's ringtone. So, when Wesley called him, he answered it very quickly.

"Hi,

Son, what's up?"

“Dad, I need to speak to Freda."

“Why? It's the middle of the night." Baldwin sat up on the bed. He turned on the Lamp, put on his glasses and walked towards the door

“I need a recipe," Wesley replied.

“Why so late? Did you just come back from a mission?" asked Baldwin.

“No, I'm on Leave."

“On Leave?" Baldwin frowned. He hadn't known that before.

"Then are you coming out to visit?"

Wesley was silent.

He was still dealing with Blair. He wanted to wait.

“Maybe later. I've got stuff to deal with first. How is Grandpa?"