<em>~Mila at breakfast, contemplating porridge~</em><br/><br/>Mila couldn't help the little smile on her face as Nicci spoke of porridge.  She'd never considered oatmeal to be that, and the difference in terminology reminded her that she was far, far from home.  As much as she tended to be a homebody, always seeking comfort and usually afraid of new experiences and the potential for failure, Scotland made her feel free.  She was happy, she realized, here where potential lovers shared gazes across the table and oatmeal was porridge.  Here was where her dreams had brought her and her future lay, she thought hopefully.<br/><br/>The teasing from the men, the camaraderie from the women - it all spoke of home, the one thing she'd been lacking in her life for so many years.  She'd been wrong earlier that morning in the video diary room, she realized.  She'd said that it was too soon for them to be a family, but that wasn't true.  They<em>were</em>a family, tied together by longings and desires that were so much more than physical.  And, if the Virgin blessed them, those ties would sustain the stresses of the next few months and prove to be strong enough to bind their hearts with love.<br/><br/>Normally, the presence of a newcomer would cause Mila to withdraw and nestle herself in her little cocoon, but she pushed herself instead, joining in her family's banter.  "Oh, I love kolaches, Mari," she said.  "My father used to get them from the bakery every Sunday before church.  Sausage and cheese.... they were so good!"  Her mouth watered even just thinking about the treat from her childhood.  "Except once, when they gave him the ones with jalapenos in them by accident.  I was young, maybe five or six.  I remember biting right into a jalapeno and then crying."  She laughed lightly at the memory.