Jack Kelly stared into the monstrous bowl of chicken soup which had just been placed before him on the DeLanci's large kitchen table. The translucent yellow liquid swirled around, revealing large, slick, white noodles, and colorful pieces of carrots, chicken, and celery.

"Here." A heavy set, white haired woman handed Jack a spoon, "Mangia!" Jack absently accepted the spoon and then blinked drowsily at his soup.

Angela's grandmother peered at the sick boy. She leaned over the table at him and slowly said, "Mangia. That means 'eat' in Italian." A slight foreign accent punctuated her speech.

"Hmm?" Jack croaked. He glanced up, his daydream broken. "Oh yeah, thanks," he murmured and dipped his spoon into the soup.

Grandma looked at Jack, slightly amused, before turning her attention back to the meatballs she was making.

"Dis- 'scuse me, this is very good," Jack ventured, indicating the soup. "Nonsense," the woman replied, "You're so sick, I bet you can't taste a thing. But thank you." She smiled at Jack.

Jack smiled weakly back at Angela's grandmother and then nervously turned his attention back to the soup. He sighed contentedly, feeling the hot, salty liquid wash down his raw throat. However, Jack's reverie was soon broken by the sound of shrill shouts from down the hallway. A door slammed and the sound of footsteps grew near.

"Frankie, I don't know what to say to you! I don't have the time or energy to try and solve this problem this instant, okay?" Angela snapped.

"Gee, I'm sorry your life is so much more important," Frankie said contemptuously. "You know, you-" Frankie's voice was cut off by the sound of a door slamming. The sound of angry footfalls pounded off into the distance and somewhere in the house, another door slammed shut.

Jack frowned but then lapsed into a bout of coughing. He sniffed and returned to his soup, feeling uneasy about overhearing the argument. Jack spooned the last drops of broth into his mouth and stood up.

"Thank you for the soup," Jack said politely. "It was very good."

"You're welcome." Grandma smiled warmly at the boy.

Jack sheepishly grinned back. "I'm, uh, gonna go back ta bed now," he murmured. The woman nodded and Jack turned and walked out of the kitchen. He padded down the hallway, heading towards the staircase.

Upstairs, Jack silently walked down the hall, feeling the soft carpet under his feet. He came to the library, and hurried past, hearing the murmuring of voices from within the room.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you," Angela admitted.

"No, I was being stupid," Frankie replied.

"So was I!" Angela argued. She looked at Frankie for a moment before they both laughed.

"It's almost Christmas; c'mon, we've got more important things to worry about," Frankie said hastily.

"Exactly. We'll just put it off 'til New Year's, right?" Angela joked halfheartedly.