Roswell Fanatics

So I totally forgot that yesterday was Friday and spaced off updating. So here I am, a day late.

I felt incredibly guilty after posting that last part, like guilty for doing this to one of my favorite characters in the fic, guilty for making you read it. Something about that scene felt more violent than anything I've ever written that it really disturbed me and disgusted me as I was writing and posting it, so I'm sure it was disturbing and disgusting for you to read.

I said in my author's note back on the first post that this story was meant to challenge me as a writer, and it really has. I didn't realize I was capable of getting so dark, because I'm not really a dark person. On the one hand, it's exciting that I feel like I've gotten to the point where I'm able to write about such stuff in a more raw, realistic way than I did in some of my earlier fics, but on the other hand, it's just really unsettling.

Anyway . . . thank you for sticking with this and for formulating feedback after a truly sick scene.









Part 70








Isabel felt a man behind her. Not Billy. Definitely not Michael. Alex. She remembered sleeping with Alex. She’d probably have to keep sleeping with him to keep him complacent. Whatever.

She sat up slowly and looked around the dark living room. Hopefully Garret hadn’t come downstairs at all, or he would have gotten an eyeful. He usually slept through the night, so she wasn’t too worried about it.

She stood up and stretched her arms over her head. The sex hadn’t actually been that bad once Alex had calmed down and laid off the anal. He was good at fucking when he was pissed. Of course he was going to wake up in the morning and be suspicious about the whole thing, but she could fool him into thinking the happy family illusion was actually attainable.

She felt something beneath her foot and bent down to pick it up. She examined it in the dark, though she could tell what it was just by the feel of it. It was a joint. There weren’t supposed to be any joints in her house. The only person she knew who would be addicted enough to carry some around with him was . . .

Oh, no, she thought, shocked that she hadn’t heard him come in. She’d been so exhausted. Billy had probably seen her and Alex naked on the couch together. It didn’t really matter since they weren’t together anymore, but she still felt a little bad about it.

Don’t feel bad, she told herself. He was the one who should be feeling bad. He was the one who’d left her son all alone. Moron.

She took the joint into the kitchen and threw it in the trash. Then she rejoined Alex on the couch and lay back down in front of him, just so that he’d feel peaceful and connected to her when he woke up. She vowed to go back to sleep and not think about Billy for the rest of the night. She just hoped he hadn’t gone and done anything stupid.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tess sat at Liz’s desk, her legs folded beneath her, arms wrapped tightly around herself. She rocked back and forth, shivering, trying to work up the courage to do something. She’d just been sitting there for the past hour and a half. It was almost 3:00 a.m. now. Kyle had called a few times, but she didn’t answer her phone.

She’d managed to keep the lights turned off. Being surrounded by darkness wasn’t exactly comforting, but it was nothing compared to the darkness outside. She didn’t know if she could make it to her car and make the drive home. And even if she did somehow manage to get home . . . then what? Or maybe she wasn’t even supposed to go home. Maybe she was supposed to go to the hospital. Was that what people did when this happened? Wasn’t there some kind of test the doctors ran, some kind of . . . rape kit?

I have to get out of here, she thought, swallowing hard. She pulled open the drawers of Liz’s desk, searching for something that she could use as a weapon in case she needed one. She had pepper spray, but it was in a drawer at home. Why didn’t she have it with her? It could have helped. It could have made things . . . different.

She didn’t find anything in Liz’s desk, so she rose to her feet and walked slowly towards her own. Her and Kyle’s wedding picture was knocked over on the floor. So was her favorite paperweight. It was glass, so it had broken and the shards were embedded in the carpet. She stared at the desk, trying her hardest to not think about what had just been done to her there. She knew there was a fabric-cutting knife in the top left-hand drawer. It wasn’t very sharp, but it would do some real damage if she put some force behind it. She opened the drawer and grabbed it, walking away from the desk in a hurry.

She was going to need a new desk.

She grabbed her purse and ignored the feeling of déjà vu as she neared the door. It’s not gonna happen again, she told herself. Whoever had attacked her . . . he was gone now. He wouldn’t just wait around. If he’d wanted to hurt her again, he would have done it already.

With the knife poised in her right hand, ready to strike, she reached for the door with her left hand. Her fingers shook as she unlocked it, and her heart pounded with terror. She had visions of him barging in again, and those visions got the best of her. As soon as she unlocked the door, she locked it again and sank down onto the floor, leaning back against the door. She didn’t cry. She’d already done the crying part.

I could just stay here all night, she contemplated. When the sun was up, she wouldn’t feel so nervous about leaving. There were lots of people in that building during the day. Even Liz was scheduled to come in. It would be easier to leave when it was light out.

The last thing she wanted to do was stay there any longer, though. The knowledge of what had taken place merely feet away from her was starting to become suffocating. She didn’t want to stay, and she didn’t want to go to the hospital. She just wanted to go home. Maybe she would feel better once she got home. Maybe she would tell Kyle what had happened. Maybe not. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe never.

Her head started to hurt with all the maybes, and she forced herself back up onto her feet. Once again, she raised the knife, but this time when she unlocked the door, she pulled it open. There was no one on the other side. Just a dark hallway.

She stepped out into the hallway, every nerve cell in her body standing on end. She looked to the right, then looked to the left. No one. So she took off running.

She ran down seven flights of stairs and burst out into the parking lot. Her car was the only one there. She got in and immediately locked the doors, then fumbled with her keys, trying to stick the right one into the ignition. She thought she heard somebody walking up behind her, but when she glanced in her rearview mirror, there was no one. Her mind was starting to play tricks on her, but they were terrifying tricks nonetheless. Finally, she got the car started and roared out onto the street.

Speeding wasn’t exactly her thing, but she sped all the way home. Their neighborhood was so suburban and quiet. Usually she felt right at home there, but now she felt out of place. She felt like she had this secret knowledge about how bad the world could really be that her neighbors didn’t have. Not even Maria, because Maria didn’t remember much about when it had happened to her . . .

She ran inside her house and slammed the door, realizing for the first time just how sore her body was. Every step felt like agony. Her skin felt as though it were torn to shreds. No wonder she’d kept that knife clutched tightly in her hand all the way home.

She dropped the knife on the floor. It clanged against the wood, and she checked to make sure both her front door and back door were locked before she headed upstairs. She winced with every step of the climb. Everything hurt.

It felt like it took her five years to reach the bedroom, but finally, she did. She set her purse down on the floor, kicked off her shoes, and sat down on her side of the bed, sighing heavily. Exhaustion was setting in, though she doubted she could sleep even if she wanted to. She bent forward and rubbed her head, determined not to cry anymore.

All of a sudden, she felt a hand on her hip. She jolted away and sprung to her feet. “Kyle!” she yelped, relief coursing through her. Of course it was Kyle. There was no one else there. She quickly turned on the bedside lamp, just to make sure. Yep, it was him.

He held his hand up in front of his eyes to shield against the bright light. “What happened to you?” he asked, staring at her in confusion. “You look . . .”

Like I’ve been raped? she thought. Could he tell?

He sat up straighter. “Where have you been? I tried calling.”

“Nowhere,” she blurted.

“Well, I couldn’t get to sleep,” he muttered. “I don’t know if we should try to talk about what happened or leave it ‘til tomorrow or what. ‘Cause if we talk, we’ll probably fight, but at least we wouldn’t be bottling things up inside.”

She couldn’t talk about anything. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” she announced, turning and heading into the bathroom.

“What? Tess . . .”

She turned on the bathroom light, shut the door, and locked it. Then she pulled back the shower curtain and peered inside, just to make sure she was alone. She was. Thank God. All she wanted was to be alone. Or maybe she wanted company. She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, and it startled her. There were huge mascara tracks running down her cheeks, and there was a bruise on the right side of her collarbone, probably from where that guy’s shoulder had hit her when he’d been . . .

She shoved the thoughts away reached down to remove her t-shirt. But she didn’t feel safe being naked, so she climbed into the shower with her clothes on instead. The water was ice cold when it hit her, so she adjusted the handle to make it warmer. It never really felt all that warm, though. And she never really felt all that clean.

Maybe it was a bad idea, but she wanted to see what it looked like. It, her . . . her body. Where he’d been. Was it as wrecked and dirty as it felt? There was only one way to find out, so she pushed her sweatpants down and took a look. She whimpered when she saw the bruises on the inside of her thighs. She was bleeding, too. He’d been so rough with her.

She grabbed a white sponge and started scrubbing, hoping that it would look better if she tried to clean it. But all she did was make it bleed more. When the sponge was thoroughly tinted red, she dropped it on the shower floor and settled for being dirty. The water fell against her eyes, but she didn’t even blink.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Billy heard police sirens and was prepared to bolt. He had a bag packed and felt confident that he could take off on foot and outrun them if he had to. He peered out the window and watched as the cop car sped on by, chasing a passenger vehicle. He breathed a sigh of relief. They weren’t coming for him. Yet.

“Paranoid much?” Lorenzo asked, chuckling.

“What?” He closed blinds. “Yeah, I guess.” He’d recalled who his victim was while he was on top of her. She was Maria’s friend, Tess or whatever. They had only met once or twice before, but it was possible that she would recognize him and send the police knocking on his door.

“So check this out,” Lorenzo said, plopping down on the couch with a bowl of popcorn in his hand. “I met up with this smokin’ hot girl at Grunge last night. Turns out, she’s a contortionist. Man, I just did some things with her I’ve never done with anyone.”

I must have been so high, Billy thought, trying to find an excuse for his behavior. He’d been known to slip girls the date rape drug in the past, but to forcibly take someone the way he had with Tess . . . it had to be the X that made him do that, because even Isabel couldn’t make him be that crazy. Could she?

“Dude, a contortionist,” Lorenzo repeated, obviously expecting some sort of reaction other than a blank stare. “What’s the matter with you?”

He glanced around his house, which normally felt spacious and open, but now he felt as though the walls were caving in on him. “I did some things last night, too,” he confessed.

“Something fun?” Lorenzo asked.

He shook his head. “Something stupid.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maria and Michael were sleeping comfortably with the full intention to keep sleeping on their Saturday morning when their bedroom door flew open. “Are you guys seriously still sleeping?” Kyle bellowed.

“God, Kyle!” Maria yelped, jolting awake. Beside her, Michael groaned and rolled over onto his other side. “What’re you doing? What if we’d been naked?”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Kyle muttered.

She gave him a questioning look.

“No, just—one time back in the apartment, you two thought you were alone, but I came over for milk and . . .” He trailed off. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. You guys wanna tell me what’s going on with Tess?”

“What do you mean?” Michael grumbled, pulling the covers up over his head.

“Is she pregnant?” Maria guessed without even hearing the full story.

“Oh god, is she?” Kyle wailed dramatically.

“I don’t know, I’m asking you.”

“Well, if anyone would you know, it’d be you. She tells you stuff.”

“Hmm, let me think,” Maria said, trying to remember when the last time she’d heard Tess complain about cramps was. “Uh, no, she just had her period two weeks ago, and I know you guys haven’t had sex since then, so . . .”

Michael rolled over onto his back and pulled the blankets down. “You keep track of your best friend’s period?” he said.

She shrugged. “Easier to keep track of than my own.”

He smiled.

“Oh . . .” Kyle whimpered helplessly, wringing his hands together.

“What?” Maria asked. “What’s that look? Is that your just-got-laid look?”

“Not usually, but right now, yes.”

“So you just got laid?”

“Unfortunately.” He sat down on the foot of the bed, rubbing his forehead as though he were stressed.

“What’s unfortunate about that?” Michael countered. “That’s good.”

“Oh, I just wanna hibernate for the rest of the winter,” Kyle groaned.

Maria sat up straighter, scooting towards the foot of the bed. “What’s wrong?” she asked him. “Was it . . . bad?” She didn’t exactly want details, but Kyle had to offer up a little more information if he wanted some kind of help.

“No, it was fantastic,” Kyle replied. “Until I confronted her about the birth control pills I found in the trash.”

“What?” both Michael and Maria shrieked in unison. Michael finally sat up and joined them on the foot of the bed upon hearing this.

“Yeah, she wasn’t taking them. She lied to me.”

“What?” Maria couldn’t believe she was hearing this.

“Wait a minute,” Michael said, obviously the only semi-calm one among the three of them, “were you wearing a . . .”

“No.”

“Oh.”

Maria ran one hand through her hair, shocked as hell by this revelation. Pretending to take birth control wasn’t just a little issue; it was a potentially life-changing one. No wonder Kyle seemed so freaked out.

“That doesn’t sound like Tess,” Michael said.

“She’s like a different person, man,” Kyle informed him sadly. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m gonna go talk to her,” Maria volunteered.

“Thank you.”

She got out of bed, slipped on a pair of white flip flops, and headed downstairs and outside in only the t-shirt she’d worn to bed. The cold December air nipped at her as she crossed the front yards quickly and let herself into Tess and Kyle’s house. “Tess?” she called, casting her shoes aside at the door. She went upstairs and eventually found her friend in the bathroom. She was sitting on the floor next to the tub wearing a fuzzy pink bathrobe and a disengaged frown.

Maria flapped her arms against her sides and cut straight to the chase. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she yelled.

Tess just stared at the bathroom tile.

“Tess.”

Finally, she seemed to be aware that she wasn’t the only one there. “What?” she said, snapping out of her daze. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me.” Maria sat down beside her, wondering if this was how disconnected Kyle felt around her. “You lied to your own husband about birth control. You tried to get pregnant behind his back, didn’t you?”

It took her five seconds to say, “Yeah.”

“And this doesn’t, I don’t know, worry you?” Her friend’s total lack of emotion was almost more disconcerting than the lie itself. “Your marriage is not invincible. This could really mess things up for you.”

“Things are already messed up,” Tess said robotically.

“God, what is wrong with you?” Maria sprang to her feet, glaring at her accusingly. “Don’t you even care? And why would you do something so crazy in the first place? Have you been body-snatched or something? You’re acting like Isabel.”

Tess didn’t even flinch.

“Talk to me,” Maria growled, bending down to shake her shoulders.

“Maria, I don’t . . . I don’t really wanna be touched right now.”

Maria let her go, staring at her incredulously. “Who are you?” Kyle was right. She was like a completely different person. “Are you willing to lose your husband over this? Because that’s what’s gonna happen.”

Tess just kept sitting there.

Maria flapped her arms against her sides helplessly. “No response,” she noted. “Great. Not liking the new you, Tess. And neither is Kyle.” And with that she turned and stormed back down the hallway. She and Tess had always had an effortless flow of communication. If even she couldn’t through to her, then something was really, really off.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Seriously, I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” Maria ranted to her man. They’d gone out to eat at Noodles & Company while Marty watched the girls. They were sharing a large plateful of the Wisconsin macaroni and cheese. The best. “I’ve never seen her like this before.”

“Not even when she was with Max?” Michael asked.

“No, when she was with him, she was totally brainwashed. Now it’s like I can’t even locate her brain at all.”

“Wow.”

She shoved a forkful of macaroni into her mouth. “Well, that sounded mean, but it’s kinda true. Birth control deception is pretty brainless.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I didn’t know the baby fever had gone that far.”

“Neither did I. At least you never have to worry about me getting like that.”

He smiled and sprinkled some pepper onto the noodles on his side of the plate. “Now, I hate to even say this, but do you think she might’ve . . . you know, cheated on him?”

“What? No,” Maria answered swiftly. “No, she would never . . . she loves him.”

“She lied to him about the pill,” he reminded her.

“But she wouldn’t . . .” She shook her head. “No. I mean . . . I don’t think so.” It was hard to feel one-hundred percent confident about the denial, though, since Tess’s behavior had gotten so destructive lately.

“Because sometimes people surprise you,” Michael pointed out, “and not in a good way. And she is desperate to get pregnant.”

The thought that Tess might have slept with someone else in order to have a kid was just too out there, too hard to fathom and disgusting. “I can’t even deal with this,” Maria said, setting her fork down, no longer hungry. “God, what’s happening? This is Tess and Kyle we’re talking about here.”

“So why does it sound like we’re talking about Max and Liz?”

“Exactly. They’re freaking fifty percent of our Core Four. If their marriage doesn’t survive this, everything’s gonna change for all of us.”

“No, you can’t think like that,” Michael said. “They’ll be okay. They’ll get through this. It’s just not gonna be easy.”

He sounded so sure, but she wondered how sure he really felt. “I just don’t get it,” she said. “We stood beside them at their wedding. We heard them take their vows. They love each other.”

“Well, sometimes love isn’t enough,” he mumbled.

“That’s bleak.”

“That’s reality. Take Isabel, for example.”

She made a face. “Let’s not.”

“No, just . . . take Isabel. She loved me, but that didn’t stop her from sleeping with Alex. Money won out for her. Maybe the desire to have a baby won out for Tess.”

Maria frowned, uncomfortable with an idea that suddenly seemed a whole lot more possible. Who was she to say what Tess would and would not do when the Tess she knew seemed to no longer exist?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I’m so different now, Tess thought, looking at herself in the mirror. Her mouth seemed almost etched into a permanent frown, and her eyes looked sleepier and darker. She felt bad for Kyle and Maria. They looked at her and expected her to be her normal self, because even though she looked subtly different, she looked basically the same. But on the inside, everything was different. Eventually they were going to have to accept that. She had.

She touched her collarbone. The bruise there was fading. Kyle had asked her where it came from. She had lied and said she didn’t know.

He came into the bathroom without a word, startling her.

“Kyle!” she gasped, holding her hand to her chest. “You can’t just sneak up on me like that.”

“Did you cheat on me?” he asked.

She stared at him in the mirror, not sure if she was hearing the question correctly. How could he possibly think she would ever do that?

“Maria and Michael and I were talking about it, and we’re all hoping and praying you didn’t, but at this point, anything’s possible. So if you did, just admit it and we can find a way to work through it.”

“That’s nice,” she grumbled, “the three of you having little pow-wows about me.”

“We’re worried about you.”

“No, you’re accusing me. Of something I didn’t do, by the way.”

“I had to ask.” He sighed. “God, Tess, I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”

“Maybe you don’t.”

“But you were never with anyone else?” he asked again as if he just wanted to make sure.

She felt the soreness between her legs and flashed back to being pinned on that desk. “I didn’t cheat,” she said, swallowing hard. Whether or not that qualified as ‘being with someone else,’ she wasn’t sure.

“Good,” he said. “That’s all I wanted to hear.” He turned and sulked out of the bathroom.

Tess kept staring at her reflection, confused by what she saw looking back at her. Maybe the outside needed to change as much as the inside had.








TBC . . .

-April

Thanks for worrying, Novy.

Like I said in my little note, I hope anyone who celebrated Thanksgiving had a great holiday. I know, I did. Much relaxation and---the best part---football! I'm pretty sure I watched football all weekend long and loved every second of it. I actually got a lot of writing done over the holiday weekend, too. I just had tons of inspiration and spare time on my hands, I guess. Now, schoolwork . . . uh, there's the one thing that I didn't do much of.

I'm going Christmas shopping today, so I'll make this brief and just say THANK YOU so much for the feedback:

Leila

BB

lilah

Ellie

Farrah

Novy

dreambeliever

Neve

Again, I know the last few parts of this fic have been kind of tough, and I appreciate you guys for sticking with it.








Part 71







Max let himself into Isabel and Alex’s house and found his brother-in-law unloading the dishwasher. Which was shocking. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d set foot in that house and not seen a stack of dirty dishes on the counter.

“Oh, Max, I’m glad you’re here,” Alex said, sounding almost . . . cheerful. Which was also shocking. “I was wondering if you might feel up to watching Garret tonight. All night, actually.”

Max gave him an inquisitive look.

Alex closed the dishwasher once all the dishes were put away and smiled. “Isabel and I were thinking about spending some quality time together.”

“Quality time?” Max echoed, repulsed by the string of visuals that flew through his head.

“Yeah, we kind of . . . found some common ground last night.”

“Meaning?”

“We slept together.”

Max sighed heavily, resigning himself to the reemergence of the submissive side of Alex. The guy who had sat in the kitchen drinking water a few nights ago just because he was so determined to go through with the divorce was gone. Sex worked in mysterious ways, and Isabel had always been well aware of how to use it to her advantage.

“You’re a fool,” he said.

“What? How am I . . .?” Alex stammered. “My wife tells me she’s willing to give our family another shot, so I sleep with her. How is that foolish?”

“You’re foolish for believing her,” Max elaborated. “Do you really think you’ve climbed up on her hierarchy of men at all? Really?”

“Yeah, I do,” Alex insisted. “Billy must’ve fucked up, because she says they’re over. And she promised she’s never gonna mention Michael again.”

“Right, that’ll happen,” Max said sarcastically. “Don’t you see what she’s doing? It’s all an act. She knows you’re on your way to sole custody, so she’s luring you back in.”

“Great, so I’ve got leverage over her from now on,” Alex claimed. “If she ever gets crazy, I’ll threaten to divorce her and take Garret away. It’s perfect.”

Max didn’t like the sound of that. Isabel and Alex had always used their son as a tool for manipulation, but one of these days it was going to go too far. “Why don’t you just go through with the divorce like you were going to?” he suggested. Alex had really seemed as though he were trying to get both his own life and his son’s life on track until Isabel let him have at her.

“Because I . . . I’m still in love with her,” he confessed.

Max rolled his eyes.

“I-I can’t help it. I wish I wasn’t, but I am. And last night . . . it felt the way it used to feel with her. It felt . . . real.”

“It’s not,” Max informed him. She’d probably been thinking about Michael the whole time. “You’re making a big mistake.”

“Why should I listen to you?” Alex argued. “You sure as hell didn’t listen to me about Liz and her friend what’s-his-name, and I guarantee there’s something going on there.”

“Well, aren’t you perceptive?” This wasn’t about Liz and him, though. He knew she was attracted to that Brandon guy. She’d told him once. But it hadn’t gone any farther than that. He would have been able to tell.

“I’m gonna go see my nephew,” he announced. “Is he upstairs?”

“Yeah. Will you watch him tonight?”

Max groaned. Playing babysitter while his sister seduced her husband? Well, at least it would get Garret away from them for awhile.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Alex said.

Max shook his head disappointedly, heading up the stairs. “You’re not addicted to alcohol, you know,” he said. “You’re addicted to Isabel.” And that addiction was probably much, much harder to overcome.

When he opened the door to Garret’s bedroom, he felt better. Garret was sitting on his floor, playing. The kid was still somehow totally innocent. The next few years were going to be crucial, though. His parents were going to corrupt him.

“Hey, stud,” Max greeted him. “What’re you doing?”

“Playin’ Lego’s,” Garret replied, connecting a yellow Lego on top of a blue one.

Max sat down beside him. “Can I play with you?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Garret smiled excitedly and gave him a handful of Legos to put together. He probably wasn’t used to having anyone to play with.

“Thanks,” Max said, putting one arm around him. He loved that kid a lot, and now that Tiffany was gone, he was his only motivation for going on. He wasn’t going to let Isabel and Alex destroy him, not if he could help it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

That night, Isabel brought Alex out to a club called the Party Favor. She and Billy had gone there a few times. He said that was where he’d met Maria. It was located across the street from the Cowboy Club, which was why Isabel picked it as their destination for the night. Sometimes Michael and Maria went out to Maria’s brother’s club, and she would have loved to run into them—or him, rather—by accident.

“This place is cool,” Alex said as walked in.

“Yeah, it’s not bad,” she agreed. It was very contemporary and spacious, nowhere near as wild and exciting as Grunge was, though. “Let’s only stay for an hour,” she suggested, leading him over to a table that just opened up. “Then we can go home and . . . you know.”

He smiled, licking his lips, and sat down at the table. “Max says this is all just an act.”

She sat down beside him, draping one of her legs over his lap, resting strategically over his package. “You don’t believe him, do you? Because I meant everything I said last night. Our relationship right now is a clean slate as far as I’m concerned.”

“Clean slate,” he echoed, nodding thoughtfully. “I like that.”

Of course it was all a lie. Her slate with Alex had become so messy over the years that it would never be clean again. But he didn’t need to know that. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom while you order drinks,” she announced, standing up.

“I think I’m just gonna have some pop or something,” he said.

“What, like Mountain Dew?”

He shrugged. “Sure. I need to quit drinking, so . . .”

Well, look who finally grew a pair of balls once his balls got a little attention, she thought, surprised. “I think that’s really good,” she said, being honest with him for once. She bent down and kissed him on the lips. Maybe if he quit drinking, it would be a little easier to pretend to want him. “Be back in a minute,” she chirped, grabbing her purse as she headed off for the bathroom. Once inside, she took a look at herself in the mirror, making sure she looked her hottest. She was wearing her favorite slinky black dress. It was short and strapless and emphasized her breasts. Not that they needed to be emphasized any more than they naturally were.

She took a tube of peach-colored lipstick out of her purse and applied it to her lips. If Alex was always looking at her lips, her breasts, or other parts of her, he would never look into her eyes, and he would never be able to tell that she was playing him for the sake of keeping custody of her son.

She smirked. I really am an evil genius.

All of a sudden, the bathroom door flung open, and Billy crashed inside.

“Billy!” she yelped. “What’re you doing?”

He shut the door, a panicked expression on his face. “I followed you,” he said, sounding out of breath. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“You’re stalking me now?”

“No, I followed you. There’s a difference.”

She rolled her eyes and put her lipstick back in her purse. “What do you want?”

He bent down, peering under all the bathroom stalls, seemingly relieved to find that they were all empty.

A woman tried to come in the bathroom, but upon seeing him in a place that was supposed to be for women only, she craned her neck back to look at the sign outside the bathroom door. “Is this . . .” she started to ask.

“Just get out of here,” Billy said, closing the door on her. He dragged the trash can over to rest against it and keep it closed.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her skin starting to feel prickly with worry. He was acting like a fugitive.

“I’m in trouble, Isabel,” he blurted.

“I so don’t care.”

“Well, you should. I did it ‘cause of you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’re you talking about?”

“I thought you said you didn’t care.”

“Turns out I do.” She’d never seen Billy so fidgety and freakish before, not even when he was high on every drug known to mankind.

“I raped someone.”

At first, she wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. “What?”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“You raped someone?” she shrieked.

“Shh!”

“Why? Who? When?” He looked completely dumbfounded by the bombardment of questions, so she narrowed it down to one at a time, staring with, “When?”

“Last night.” He took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it with shaking fingers.

“Why?”

“‘Cause of you.”

“I didn’t . . .” She remembered the joint she’d found on the living room carpet and realized what he was talking about. “You saw me and Alex together and you . . .” She trailed off, shaking her head in disgust.

“I was so pissed. I couldn’t control myself.”

And therein lies the root of your problem, she thought. The boy had no self-control.

“God, I was so pissed and so high,” he said, his voice cloaked with emotion. He swallowed hard and shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes.

“You’re not the one who should be crying,” she pointed out. That task fell to his victim. “So who was she? Was she just some random girl?”

“No.”

“Was she Maria?” she asked hopefully. Oh, god, please let it have been Maria.

“No.”

Her hopes fell. “So who was it? Does she know you? Is she gonna turn you in?” Maybe there was a warrant out for his arrest right now and that’s why he was acting so suspicious.

“I don’t know. I was wearing a mask,” he said. “It was that Tess chick.”

“Tess?” she echoed, her eyebrows shooting straight up on her forehead. “Tess Harding? Or Valenti or . . . that Tess?”

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah.”

Her mouth dropped open, and for a moment, she was speechless. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.” He threw his crumbling cigarette down on the floor and put it out with the toe of his shoe. “Come on, you don’t even like her. You told me sometimes the bitch deserves it.”

“But that was before all that stuff with my dad . . .” She trailed off, fighting to keep those memories buried as much as she could.

“What stuff? Your dad?” he resounded confusedly. “What’re you talkin’ about, Isabel?”

She ran one hand through her hair, contemplating the various ways in which this could go horribly for her. If Tess managed to identify Billy as her rapist, she and her perfect little family would connect him back to her. They would think it was something she arranged. “I can’t believe you did that,” she said, shocked that even she could make a man so crazy. “It’s not my fault,” she whispered, convinced that this time it really wasn’t. “It’s not my fault.”

“Dammit, Isabel, why you always thinkin’ about yourself?” he yelled. “Think about me for a change.”

“You’re like Max. You’re like my dad.” Her stomach twisted in knots. He wasn’t the type of person she wanted to be around. Ending things with him might have been hard, but this was just going to make it easier. “You like me too much.”

“Like you?” he roared. “Isabel, I’m in love with you!”

She almost fell over. She’d known as much for awhile now, ever since she’d heard him sing that song about her. But hearing it out loud was a whole new thing, something she wasn’t prepared for. Even though she hated that he was so like her dad in that moment, she couldn’t deny how satisfying it was to hear someone say he loved her.

“God, help me, I’m in love with you!” he kept on. “And no one else is ever gonna be. He’s never gonna love you, Isabel. He’s never . . .”

She knew he was talking about Michael, and somewhere deep down inside, she knew he was right. But she still couldn’t accept that.

“And what’re you gonna do, play house with your husband for the rest of your life? That ain’t you! Why can’t you just get it? You belong with me.”

“No, I belong with Michael.” She pushed past him, moved the trashcan out of the way, and reached for the door, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Let go of me,” she growled. He couldn’t control her.

He slowly loosened his grip on her hand and lowered his head. “I’m leavin’, Is,” he mumbled. “I’m leavin’ tonight.”

She frowned. What the hell did he mean by that? He couldn’t just leave. He was supposed to be there. He was supposed to always be there, just in case she needed him for something.

“I’m goin’ to LA, gonna do the music thing.” He shrugged as though he didn’t even care about that anymore. “I turned down a record label for you once. Did you know that?”

She didn’t know.

“I didn’t wanna be away from you,” he said pitifully. “I still don’t.” He raised his eyes and looked at her, right at her. He wasn’t like Alex, distracted by the breasts and lips. He looked right in her eyes and didn’t back down, even though he should have. “Come with me.”

Every time he opened his mouth to say something, Isabel felt like a new bombshell dropped beside her. “What?” He couldn’t be serious.

But he was. “Come to LA,” he coaxed, lifting her hands up with his. “Just leave everything behind and start over. With me.”

“I can’t . . .” She jerked her hands away. “I have a son!”

“He’s better off without you.”

She stared at him in astonishment. “You’re crazy.”

“So are you.” He grinned shakily, hopefully. “Please, Isabel. Please come with me. I gotta go because of what I did. I can’t stay and get found out. But you can come with me. We can be together.”

“I can’t just pack up and move to another state.”

“Sure you can. We’ll go right now.” He was literally begging. “Please.”

She shook her head, determined not to let him pull her down into his pit of delusions with him. Maybe he had no idea how ridiculous he sounded, or maybe he did. Either way, the idea was ridiculous. It was not possible. It was just . . . not possible. She could never leave her son. She could never leave Santa Fe, not as long as Michael was there.

“Goodbye, Billy.” She walked out.

“No, Isabel . . .”

She left him behind to slide further into his depression and rejoined Alex at their table. She did her best to conceal how frazzled she was.

“You alright?” Alex asked. “You were in there awhile.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied, although she was just the opposite. How disconcerting was it that hearing ‘I love you’ from Billy made her forget all about the rape he’d committed? It was as though there was this part of herself that needed to hear those words and was starved because no one ever said those words to her at all. Until now, of course.

“Let’s just go home and forget about clubbing, okay?” she suggested, hoping that her nerves would steady if she got out of there.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just . . . eager,” she lied, running her fingers through his hair.

“Alright then,” he said, standing up. “Let’s go.”

She took his hand and allowed him to lead her out of the club. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Billy standing next to the bathroom door, staring at her desperately as she left.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael and Maria settled for a lazy evening on the couch watching an installment of Primetime: What Would You Do? They loved the show because it put real people in seemingly true-to-life shocking situations just to see how they would react. This episode had two actors playing the parts of a restaurant manager and a mother who chose to breastfeed her baby in public. The test was to see if anyone would defend the mother when the manager told her to leave.

“This is exactly like that one time when it happened to me,” Maria said, seeming to grow more and more infuriated with each second that she watched. Even when the actor posing as the manager accused the actress mother of doing something pornographic, some other customers just laughed and agreed. “We were at that café and I whipped out one of the bazungas ‘cause Miley was being fussy. Remember?”

“No, I wasn’t with you,” Michael reminded her.

“Oh, that’s right, Tess was,” she recalled. “I was just, like, an emotional wreck when they told me to leave, but Tess was so pissed. I thought she was gonna roundhouse the manager.” She laughed fondly at the otherwise insulting memory, but then she looked down at her lap, a sad expression replacing her happy one.

“Don’t worry, she’ll be your friend like that again,” Michael assured her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her to his side and kissed the top of her head, confident that this lifeless version of Tess wouldn’t last.

“I hope so,” she murmured, curling up against him. She pressed the mute button on the remote control when she heard noise coming from upstairs and asked, “What’s Kyle doing up there?” He’d come over an hour ago and he hadn’t left yet.

“Painting,” Michael replied. “Some people hit punching bags; others throw paint on the walls. It’s therapeutic.”

“You should go talk to him,” she suggested.

“I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

“Don’t lie, you always know what to say.”

He sighed, disentangling himself from her limbs. “This is true. Alright, I’ll go do my bromantic duty. You wait here.” He went upstairs to his art room and stood in the doorway for a moment, observing Kyle. He was wearing one of his old jumpsuits from his job as a mechanic back in college, and it was covered in paint. Every time he flicked a brush at the wall, some of it came back and landed on him.

“Feelin’ any better?” Michael asked.

“Nope.” Kyle flicked a glob of black paint at the wall. Combined with all the other paint already up there, it looked like a splatter painting. “You can paint over this if you want.”

“Actually, I might leave it. It looks kinda cool.”

Kyle laughed angrily. “Trust me, there’s nothing cool about rage.”

“And that’s what you feel right now, rage?”

“Oh, yeah,” Kyle replied emphatically. “I mean, I’m pissed about what Tess did, and I’m even more pissed she won’t talk to me about it. It’s like she just shut down, man.”

“Hmm.” Michael really didn’t understand why Tess was acting so strangely. Maybe she was already pregnant, having mood swings and all that. He wasn’t about to say that to Kyle, though.

“Yeah, so don’t count on having Christmas dinner at my place,” Kyle said.

“No, don’t even worry about that. Maria and I will take care of it.” He hoped she wouldn’t mind that he’d just volunteered them to host another huge holiday dinner. Kyle was right that he and Tess were in no state to do it.

“Thanks,” his friend said gratefully. “God, you two are just so together. So together and-and functional. Why is that?”

“I don’t know,” Michael answered with a shrug. “We have to be, for our kids, I guess.”

“No, it’s not even that. You’re just smarter than Tess and I were. You’re smart enough to know not to get married. I’m telling you, man, when you put a ring on it, everything changes. We were never like this when we were dating.”

“This isn’t happening ‘cause you got married,” Michael assured him.

“Then why’s it happening?”

“Because . . . you didn’t know each other as well as you thought. And because kids change everything.” He happened to know that last part for a fact. “She was ready for it. You weren’t.”

“And she didn’t care,” Kyle muttered, wiping his paint-covered hands against the leg of his pants.

“No, she didn’t,” Michael admitted. Maybe he and Maria should have intervened more when they’d sensed Kyle and Tess going down this rocky path. “Go home,” he suggested. “Talk to her. See if you can work this out.”

Kyle nodded slowly and set the paintbrush down in a messy paint tray.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After leaving Michael’s, Kyle tried like hell to steady his nerves for his talk with Tess. He really wanted to smooth things out, but it almost felt as though they couldn’t even have a smooth conversation anymore.

He tried his front door, but it was locked. “Tess?” he called, checking his pocket for his keys. He didn’t have them. “Can you let me in?” She didn’t come to the door, though he knew she was there because her car was in the driveway. He got their spare key out from under the welcome mat and inserted it into the lock. “Listen,” he said as he walked inside, “I think we really need to sit down and talk about . . .” He trailed off when he saw someone standing in the living room, someone he didn’t even recognize at first. Long, dark hair. Not even dark, but black. Completely black and straight, pulled back in a half-ponytail. He recognized that body, though, and the way she was standing. When she turned around to look at him . . .

Tess. Tess with black hair.

Tess?

“Your hair,” he said, not sure what else to say.

“We need to talk about my hair?” she asked confusedly.

“What? No. Well, yeah, maybe. It’s . . . different.” She had never once mentioned anything about switching from blonde.

“I dyed it,” she explained.

“I see that.” Tess was a natural blonde. He loved the blonde.

“I just needed a change,” she said flippantly as though it were no big deal.

“Oh, it’s a change,” he assured her. It was a complete one-eighty. No longer did she look like the sweet and bubbly valley girl she’d always been. Now she looked . . . depressing. Her eyebrows were darker, too, and she had on more makeup, more eyeliner and darker lipstick. Even her clothes weren’t as vibrant. She was wearing a grey t-shirt and black pants. She looked like all the gothic kids he’d feared in high school.

“Is that really . . . no, wait a minute,” he said, peering closer at the new ‘do. “Is that a wig? Is this some kind of weird joke?”

“I’m sorry you don’t like it,” she said, shoving her hands in her pockets.

“No, it’s not that.” She still looked beautiful; she just didn’t look like herself. “I just . . . I guess I don’t really get it. I never pictured you with dark hair before, and you never really talked about changing, so . . . it just kinda throws me for a loop. It looks cool, though. It’s really . . . extreme.” Inside, he felt more uncomfortable with this new development than he let on. As if enough hadn’t already changed about his wife, now he had to deal with this, too?

“What did you wanna talk about?” she asked.

“Uh . . .” He was still so flabbergasted by her appearance that he couldn’t even remember his words.

“I’m really sorry about the birth control thing,” she said. “I’ll never do it again.” And with that, she headed outside. Talk over. Just like that.

He watched her sit down by the pool, roll up her pants, and dangle her feet in the water. Even though there had to be some part of that woman who was still the woman he’d married, he felt as though he’d just met a stranger for the first time.

****

“Where’s Isabel?” Kyle asked, checking his appearance in Michael’s microwave.

“She had an exam tonight. She’s gonna meet us at the party.”

Kyle was excited about the party. He was already halfway through his first semester of college, and he had yet to do any true socializing. Michael was the first person he’d met who didn’t think he was a complete spaz. He had a feeling they were going to be good friends. Plus, he had his own apartment off campus, which was so cool.

“Who are we going with?” he asked.

“Maria and Tess. They’re my friends. I met ‘em last year in college algebra,” Michael replied as he unloaded his dishwasher.

Girls. Yes. “Are they hot?”

Michael made a face. “I can’t answer that. I have a girlfriend.”

“Okay, put it this way: If you were me, would you think they’re hot?”

Michael put the last of his dishes up in the cupboard and closed the dishwasher. “Yes, Kyle.”

“Awesome.” Maybe he’d get lucky and lose his virginity tonight.

There was a knock on the door, and Michael went to answer it. “That must be them.”

“Wait, how do I look?” Kyle asked, trying not to get the sweaty palms and heart palpitations that usually accompanied his first meeting with a hot chick.

“It doesn’t matter,” Michael said. “Tess has a boyfriend and Maria has . . . boys.”

Crap, Kyle thought. Why were the hot chicks always slutty or unavailable? He supposed he could settle for slutty.

When Michael opened the door, two smoking hot blondes came inside. “Hi, Michael!” the one with the lips exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck. “I love you.”

“She’s already plastered,” the one with the boobs informed him.

“I can see that,” Michael said, practically holding her up. “Hey, Maria. You’re starin’ the party early, huh?”

She nodded and hugged him. “You’re totally sweet, Michael.”

He laughed a little and pushed her away from him. “Oh, Kyle, this is Maria,” he finally introduced.

She waved drunkenly at him.

“And this is Tess.”

“Hi, Kyle,” Tess said, smiling at him. Right at him. She had a great smile. She returned her attention to Michael, then, and started talking about how she needed him to chaperone her that night, make sure she didn’t drink too much and start flirting random guys because Max hated that.

Max? Who was Max? Kyle didn’t even care. He was completely transfixed on the girl. Tess. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. All that blonde hair and smooth, glowing skin . . . and those eyes. And that smile. That everything.

Kyle Valenti had never been in love before, but he knew this was love at first sight.

****

Tess twirled her hair around her finger, seemingly unbothered by the change. Kyle remained inside, watching her. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. It was just hair. But at the same time, it was so much more than that. He wanted so badly to look at the girl by the pool and feel that love-at-first-sight feeling again, but he didn’t. He just didn’t.








TBC . . .

-April

I wasn't sure whether to update yesterday, over the weekend, or on Monday, but since you guys are asking about it, I'll update today.

Ellie:

Now I ask this - What's Isabel going to do with that knowledge? Cause knowing her, she'll use it to her advantage somehow, all in the quest of her sick obsession with Michael. Ugh!

You might actually see Isabel backing off for awhile. The thought of losing her son really scared her into being--dare I say it?--more obedient.

I just wish someone was really looking at her, I mean taking a honest LOOK at her right now and see the pain that is reflected in her eyes - cause I know if I was to look, I wouldn't see Tess anymore. The Tess I know is nowhere to be found. It's like she's died and someone else is occupying her body.

Yeah, I think Maria, Kyle, and Michael are too busy seeing who Tess isn't anymore to see who she is.

Then again - another prediction I have - the person you least think will spot the difference in Tess will. Let's hope they can help her ... someway , somehow.

Are you talking about Max? Because I do like to throw in random Max/Tess scenes. We'll see.

Leila:

It was interesting to see Max and Alex. Both were warning the other about their wives. Amusing....and both are still idiots not realizing what's really happening

Yeah, they really need to stop being so stubborn and take each other's advice. Both are seeing something the other one refuses to.

Isabel is evil (no doubt) yet her reaction to Billy's crime was even for her unusual. Maybe the experience with her dad made her slightly sensitive. The woman is so damaged.

I agree, her revelation about what her dad to her made her find Billy's crime more disgusting than she otherwise would have. Yet at the same time, she couldn't hate him for it.

As for Kyle and Tess, I'm afraid their fall will be deeper. They don't communicate, they don't know each other and certainly didn't realize what it really means to be in a marriage.

Tess and Kyle have always been plagued by miscommunication problems, and now that she's virtually stopped talking to him at all . . . that communication obviously isn't going to get any better.

BB:

I firmly believe that Isabel and Alex belong together and if they didn't have a sweet, lonely young son who desperately needs at least one decent parent I'd be happy for the gruesome twosome to stay together forever in married hell.

Definitely, their son is the only reason why anyone would really care about them or want them to better themselves.

It will be interesting to see what Isabel does now that she knows about Tess. You wouldn't have had her find out for no reason. Is there a chance that Isabel might be able to salvage some form of redemption through Tess?

I don't think Tess is important enough to Isabel to see this as any shot to salvage redemption. Billy is much more important to her, even after what he did, so don't expect her to tell anyone what she knows.

Novy:

Well, I'm glad you had such a great holiday. School work, who needs that.

I sure don't! Unfortunately, I've got a ton of it to do this weekend.

Isabel has two men in love with her. If only they weren't both so twisted. It's so sad she's really surrounded herself with men like her dad.

It is sad, especially considering she had Michael and willingly gave him up.

I hope there is some justice a head for Billy. You can't really run from your past. At least you shouldn't be able to so easily.

Well, they say you can run from your past but it always catches up to you, so . . .


Thank you for the feedback! Much appreciated as ever!








Part 72








Isabel didn’t sleep well that evening. In fact, she didn’t sleep much at all. It was strange to have Alex back in the master bedroom with her. They hadn’t shared a bed for a long time. He snored a little and tried to sleep too close to her. She felt cramped and crowded, and she couldn’t stop thinking about Billy. She looked at the clock almost every ten minutes, wondering where he was. How long did it take to get to LA? And what would he do when he got there? Did he have a place to live? Would he meet someone?

She held off on calling Lorenzo until 6:30 in the morning. She slipped out of bed and went downstairs, talking quietly so that Alex wouldn’t overhear.

“Hello?” Lorenzo answered groggily.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Hey, Isabel.”

“Hey.” She wasn’t sure what she was hoping to hear from him when she asked, “Has Billy left yet?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s long gone,” Lorenzo told her. “Left late last night.”

So he was really gone. Don’t get sad, she told herself, although part of her had been wondering—maybe even hoping—that he’d chicken out and stay. Billy wasn’t worth getting emotional over, and now that he had raped Tess, he was worth even less. She’d always known he liked to slip girls the date rape drug, but what he had done to Tess had been more violent. She didn’t want a violent man’s hands on her anymore . . . did she?

She didn’t want to want that.

“You two get to say your goodbyes?” Lorenzo asked.

His ‘I love you’ echoed throughout her head. “Yeah,” she said. “We did.” He shouldn’t have said that. He shouldn’t have even felt it.

“Well, you know you can still come by and fuck me anytime you want,” Lorenzo offered. “I’ll be your affair.”

“Thanks,” she said, “but I’m not doing that anymore.” She couldn’t give Alex any reason to reignite the divorce and custody battle.

“That’s too bad,” Lorenzo said disappointedly.

She sighed heavily, hoping she’d be okay without an affair. She hadn’t been faithful to one person in such a long time that it was hard to remember how it felt. “I’ll see you around,” she said, quickly ending the call. She set the phone down on the counter and clenched every muscle in her body, unwilling to get shaky and weepy over a man who wasn’t even a good man. Besides, she’d allowed him to go. If she’d really wanted him to stay, she could have convinced him. Her life was going to be easier without him now.

She just had to keep telling herself that.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Jet black? Really?” Michael tried to picture Tess with that dark color of hair, and he couldn’t. But Kyle kept insisting it was true. Tess was unofficially Goth Tess now by the sound of it, which was why Kyle had decided to stay home from work that day. He said he was afraid to leave her alone because he didn’t know what other physical alterations she had in mind.

Isabel came into the gallery while Michael was still on the phone with Kyle. “Listen, I gotta go,” he said, “but Maria and I will come over tonight. Maybe Maria can try talking to her again.” He and Kyle said goodbye, and he hung up the phone.

“What’s jet black?” Isabel asked.

“Tess’s hair,” he replied.

“Oh, that’s . . . daring. I’m not sure she has the skin tone for it.”

Michael surveyed her a for a moment and couldn’t help but notice that she was dressed more conservatively than she usually was when she came to see him—jeans and a grey Santa Fe sweatshirt. “What’re you doing here?” he inquired. “I thought you were still working nights.”

“I am. I just wanted to come by and talk to you about something.”

“I already gave my deposition to Alex’s lawyer.”

“I know. I saw it.” She hesitated a moment, then admitted, “You did the right thing. You always do the right thing. Turns out it was all for nothing, though. Alex and I aren’t getting a divorce anymore.”

He made a face. “What changed?” Days ago they’d been at each other’s throats, both playing tug-a-war with him in order to get a deposition in their favor.

She shrugged. “We just decided to start over, give each other a second chance.”

“Uh-huh,” he said skeptically. That was probably code for sex.

“Anyway, I sort of promised him that I would never think about you or say your name again, which is gonna be kinda hard; but I have to do it if I wanna make this work. And I do. For Garret. So you won’t see me around as much anymore. It’ll be easier for me to stop thinking about you if I don’t see you as much.”

Good, he thought. These little meetings usually infuriated Maria and left him feeling awkward. “What about Billy?” he asked. “How do you expect to start over with Alex when he’s in the picture?”

“He’s not in the picture,” she informed him. “He left yesterday for LA.”

“Why?”

“Music thing.”

He grunted. If he was still playing the Maria song, LA was going to eat him alive.

“So it’s just me and Alex from now on,” Isabel said, flapping her arms against her sides.

“You don’t sound too excited about that,” he remarked.

“I’m not. But he says he’s gonna quit drinking, so . . . things will be better. It’s not like they can be any worse.” She smiled sadly. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know about all this. And I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Isabel . . .”

“You got me to quit stripping and found me another job. You allowed your daughter to be friends with my son. And you decided months ago to treat me less like an annoyance and more like a human being. That means so much.”

He hoped she still realized she was annoying. He just had a higher tolerance for her than Maria did.

“So I just want you to know, even if you don’t hear me saying ‘I love you’ as often anymore, I still feel it,” she said. “I always will. And whenever I’m with Alex, I’ll wish I was with you.”

He didn’t know what she expected him to say in response to that, so all he said was, “Okay.” If she wanted to fantasize about him while she was getting it on, she could go ahead and do that. He didn’t care. The only thing he thought about when he was with Maria was . . . well, Maria.

“Okay,” she echoed, obviously wishing he’d said more. She turned without another word and headed out. He hoped for his sake—and even for hers—that that was the last time she’d ever set foot in his gallery, that she’d really truly make an effort with her husband and give her son a more stable, suitable home-life. But he doubted it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I can’t believe I’m going back to that place, Tess thought on her way to her studio that day. She’d woken up, intending to stay in bed all day, but that didn’t work out because Kyle kept coming in and asking if she wanted to talk. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to do anything. The more he tried to get her to say something, the more she tried to crawl inside herself. Eventually, she got fed up with it and decided to go to work. Had to go back there eventually.

When she walked inside the studio, the memories flooded back to her, attacking all her senses. The sight of him on top of her, the sound of his voice when he’d thanked her for the act, the smell of his breath . . . the feel of him inside her . . .

She shuddered, trying to think about anything else.

“Hey, where were you yesterday?” Liz asked, her eyes glued to her computer screen. “I thought you were gonna be here . . .” She trailed off when she caught sight of Tess’s reflection in the monitor and spun around. “Oh. My. Gothic!”

“It’s not gothic,” Tess said, threading her fingers through her hair.

“Yeah, it is,” Liz insisted. “Wow, was that, like, a spur-of-the-moment decision or . . .”

Tess shrugged. “I guess.” Her hair-dresser had looked at her as though she were crazy when she’d asked for such a drastic transformation.

“I like it,” Liz declared after some consideration. “It’s a definite look. Now you can tell me whether or not it’s true that blondes have more fun.”

Blondes don’t have fun, Tess thought drearily, sulking over to her desk. She stood beside it, staring down at the wood, picturing herself pinned on her back, unable to scream, unable to move, and oddly enough, unable to cry.

“By the way, when I got here yesterday, your wedding picture and a broken paperweight were on the floor,” Liz said. “I cleaned it up for you. What happened?”

Tess kept on staring. “I had an accident.”

“Oh. Well, okay, whatever. If we wanna talk business for a second, I have some concerns,” Liz announced, switching the subject rapidly. “It’s about Brandon.”

Tess slowly sat down in her chair, smoothing her hands over the desk. It was an old desk. It looked dirty. She wanted a new one. She wanted a new one so badly.

“Before we do any more work with him as a client, we may wanna take a step back and reevaluate his financial capabilities,” Liz blabbered. “Because what’s the point in doing the work if he can’t pay us, right? Now I know I’m the one who sought him out as a customer, but Maria told me about these sorority girls, and I really feel that, if we’re thinking financially, it’d be a better investment of our time and resources to . . .” She trailed off slowly and whimpered. “Oh, who am I kidding? Tess, I slept with him.”

For the first time since she’d been raped, Tess’s mind registered something else.

“I slept with him,” Liz repeated, sounding mortified. “And that’s so bad. It happened a couple days ago. Max and I got into this fight, and I was upset, and Brandon was just . . . he was just there. I felt bad about it right away. And I tried to tell Max, but I couldn’t. I didn’t even really try that hard, because I keep telling myself that if he doesn’t know, I’ll eventually just forget and we’ll be okay again. But I know that won’t happen, because I know a thing or two about cheating, and I wish I had no idea what cheating even was, but . . . I’m just so disappointed with myself, and I don’t know what to do.” She started to cry. “What should I do, Tess?”

So Liz had voluntarily had sex with someone who wasn’t her husband? Yet Kyle was the one asking questions about infidelity? “I really can’t have this conversation right now,” she said. Maybe if it’d come a few days earlier, but not now.

“Tess, I--”

“I mean it, Liz.” She was totally unsympathetic to the situation, and if she said anything else, it was going to be something really harsh.

Liz sighed. “Don’t tell Max, okay?”

“Whatever.” She had a feeling Max would find out on his own, but for now, keeping a secret was one thing they had in common.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Hi, Uncle Kyle.”

“Hey, Miles.” Kyle bent down and gave his niece a hug when Michael and Maria brought the family over that night. “I like your dinosaurs.”

“Thanks.” She held up the green T-rex in her right hand and said, “This is Sex.”

Kyle just smiled. “What?”

“Maria told her sex is a dinosaur,” Michael informed him quietly. “Just go with it.”

“Okay.” Kyle patted the dinosaur on the head. “Hey, Sexy.”

“Is Tess upstairs?” Maria asked impatiently. She’d heard about the whole dark hair thing, but she wasn’t going to believe it until she saw it for herself.

“Yeah. Just . . . brace yourself,” Kyle warned. “And don’t expect to get much of a response. She didn’t say more than five words to me all day.”

Maria took a deep breath and headed upstairs. When she pushed open the door to the bedroom and saw her friend for the first time, she couldn’t even believe it was the same person. Tess looked like a human raincloud. She used to look like the sun.

“You know, everyone liked Britney Spears less when she dyed her hair dark,” Maria pointed out.

Tess gave her an over-the-should annoyed glance.

“It’s not a dig; it’s just a fact.” Hopefully Tess wouldn’t continue to follow in Britney’s footsteps and do the head-shaving thing, too. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“About what?”

Maria sat down beside her and lifted up a section of her hair. “About this.”

Tess scooted away, moving all her hair around to the right side of her neck. “I didn’t know I needed your approval.”

“Okay, I just thought that if you were gonna go from blonde to black—which, by the way, is quite the drastic change—you might run it by me first to get my opinion. Because that’s what best friends do.”

“Sorry,” Tess apologized, but she didn’t sound sorry.

“Doesn’t matter. You know, it’s actually pretty sleek and cool, but it just doesn’t really seem like you.”

“It’s the new me.”

“Right.” Maria sighed. It was like talking to a brick wall, only the wall would’ve been more responsive. “Okay, here’s the thing: You may not be a mother, but you’re still an aunt. And I happen to know for a fact that there are two little girls downstairs who would love to see their aunt right now, one in particular who would be absolutely delighted if you played with her dinosaur named Sex.”

That last part actually elicited a half-smile. “What?”

“It’s my fault. Remember how I told her sex is a dinosaur because I chickened out of ‘the talk?’ It stuck. Say, there’s something you could do, though: Have the talk with Miley. Explain to her what sex is so Michael and I don’t have to.”

Tess thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. “No.”

“Oh, come on,” Maria urged, “I thought you’d enjoy it. It’s a chance for you to embrace your inner mommy. It’s good practice.”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Maria, I said no!” she snapped. “I don’t wanna talk about sex right now.”

The old Tess would have pointed out that no one enjoyed that talk, no matter how much they wanted to be a parent. She would have declined the suggestion and offered advice on the best way to go about it. “Sorry I asked.” Maria stood up and headed for the door, completely blown away by the shrill anger in her friend’s voice.

“Maria . . .” Tess groaned. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just really on edge right now; and I don’t expect you to understand, because you have this perfect family.”

“We’re not perfect.”

“Yes, you are,” she insisted. “You guys have no problems and no drama. Everything goes according to plan.”

“Uh, hello, I got pregnant during my junior year of college,” Maria reminded her. “That sure as hell wasn’t in the plan. Not that I had a plan at that particular point in time, but if I had, that wouldn’t have been part of it.”

“Yeah, but even when things don’t go the way you want, it all still works out in the end. You don’t know what it’s like to have something not work out.”

“Yes, I do. College,” Maria pointed out as an example.

“But you’re going back to school. You’re gonna graduate this spring.”

Maria was literally insulted that Tess thought her life was so easy, so perfect. She and Michael worked hard to keep their family safe and happy and loved. “So what you’re saying is, even though I’ve known you all my life, I just don’t get you?” she concluded, appalled by the ridiculousness of it all. “Wow. Clearly I don’t.” She rushed downstairs before she said something she would regret and told Michael, “Let’s go.”

A half an hour later, Maria lay in bed crying muffled tears against her pillow. Michael sat beside her, rubbing her back.

“Maria, don’t cry,” he said. “I hate seeing you cry.”

“Sorry,” she apologized, sitting up. “I just feel really bad right now.” She wiped her hand against her nose and blinked back tears. “You should’ve seen her, Michael. It’s not just her hair; it’s her. Like everything about her. It’s so different. She’s way worse now than when she was with Max. And even back then, we stopped being friends for awhile ‘cause we couldn’t get along.” Granted, it had all worked out in the end because that was what had prompted her to move in with Michael and fall in love with him, but not everything worked out like that.

“You two never really stopped being friends,” he said.

“Well, we grew apart before we grew back together. I don’t want that to happen again, and I really don’t want it to happen to her and Kyle.” Kyle Valenti was easily the best thing that had ever happened to Tess, but nowadays her gothic eyeliner was blocking sight of that fact.

“They’ll be fine,” Michael assured her.

“You keep saying that, but they’re not fine.” She let out a heavy, shaky breath. “I’m sorry, I just feel really emotional about this right now.”

“That’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I need to get control of myself. I don’t want Miley to worry.”

He motioned around the bedroom and pointed out, “Miley’s not here.” She’d gone to sleep ten minutes ago.

She started to cry again, hooking her arms around his neck and hugging him. It felt better when he held her, but she still felt bad.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Bad news.”

Liz startled. She’d been so focused on her homework for her biology class that she hadn’t even heard Max come in the trailer. “What?” she asked, setting her pencil down. They really didn’t need any more bad news in their lives.

“I got fired today.”

She groaned. “Why?”

“Jorge said some of kids’ parents started circulating a petition to can me after they heard I pummeled that Lukas kid.”

“Yeah, but he deserved it,” she pointed out.

Max shrugged. “Apparently they don’t think so. They think I’m dangerous. Jorge caved under the pressure, but he offered a letter or recommendation.” He laughed bitterly. “Can you believe that? That’s what I offered Alex when I fired him.”

She sighed, standing up. “I’m sorry, Max,” she said, making her way towards him. She hugged him awkwardly, feeling as though it were an unusual thing these days to invade his personal physical space. “I know you really liked that job.”

“It’s not that bad,” he said, releasing her from the embrace. “It was just a volunteer thing anyway. Now I can find a real job. Besides, what’s the point in working there now that Tiffany’s gone?”

“Right,” she said. “So what’re you gonna do now?”

He thought about it for a moment, scratching his forehead. “Well, I know male prostitution’s not very common, but I think I’m pretty enough to make it work.”

She stared at him in horror. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Maybe.” He grinned. “Yes. I could make a lot money, but I’d never cheat on you.” He gave her a kiss and headed back to the bedroom, mumbling something that sounded like a rehearsed answer to an interview question.

She closed her eyes, her stomach clenching out of guilt. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep secret what she’d done. She wasn’t even sure if she even wanted to.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tess sat on her bed, flipping through a magazine. She needed a new wardrobe. As it stood now, all her clothes were too bright and happy. Too much pink. Pink didn’t suit her anymore. She wanted darker clothes to match the darker hair and the darker personality. Everything had to match, otherwise she would just confuse people even more.

“Tess?”

She flinched when Kyle came into the room. Anytime anyone brushed past her or looked at her or sneaked up on her anymore, she fought the instinct to scream for help.

“I have an idea,” her husband announced, sitting down beside her. He handed her a small business card for a Dr. Kellar. She couldn’t help thinking at first that maybe she was some kind of fertility specialist. But then she looked at the rest of the information on the card and understood what Kyle was suggesting.

“Therapy?”

“Counseling,” he corrected.

“You want me to go see a shrink?”

“I want us to go see a counselor.” He seemed completely convinced that there was some kind of difference. “Couples counseling.”

She handed the card back to him. “Do you really think this is gonna save our marriage?”

“I think our marriage doesn’t need to be saved; it needs to be fixed.”

“Well, did you ever think our problems can’t be fixed?”

“No.”

She hung her head, flipping to the next page in the magazine. “Well, I did.” She used to think she and Kyle could survive anything together, weather any storm, overcome all obstacles. Now she knew she’d been so naïve.

“Let’s just give this a shot,” he suggested. “Okay?”

She knew he wasn’t going to let up on it, so she resigned herself to it. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” He put one arm around her shoulders, and she wondered if he felt her tense up. It wasn’t his fault. She just didn’t want to be touched anymore.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So where do you see yourselves in five years?”

Kyle loosened the collar of his shirt, feeling as though he couldn’t breathe in Dr. Keller’s small office. “Well, that’s a . . . that’s a very good . . . question,” he stammered, looking to Tess. They were both sitting on the couch, though she was curled up to the left side, as though she didn’t want to be anywhere near him. “Tess, do you wanna go first or should I?”

“You can go.”

“Okay.” He glanced up at the framed master’s degree hanging on the wall above Dr. Keller’s head. She wasn’t going to judge them. She was a professional, and she knew what she was doing. She probably saw many more dysfunctional couples every single day. “Well, in five years, I’ll probably still be here. Not here in your office, I hope. Not that there’s anything wrong with it. It’s very nice as offices go. It’s just that no one really wants to be here, myself included. So when I say here, I’m talking here in the larger sense, as in Santa Fe.” He realized he was rambling. Sometimes he did that when he was nervous. “I got a lot of good stuff here. My gallery, my home, my friends, my family. My dad’s not here, though. He’s gonna be moving to Alabama to be with his lady friend. Can’t say I blame him. When you’re nuts about a girl, you’ll do anything for her.”

“Almost anything,” Tess mumbled, and he mentally kicked himself for saying that. Dr. Keller was going to think he was a hypocrite when Tess started in about the baby issue.

“So you think you’ll still be living in the same house and working the same job,” the doctor continued, jotting some notes down on her laptop.

“Yeah, I don’t see why anything would change.” He wouldn’t mind if Tess changed back to blonde, though. She was so much more approachable when she was familiar.

“And where do you see yourself, Tess?”

She shrugged. “Same, I guess. Although my studio’s probably gonna be out of business by then.”

“No, it won’t,” Kyle assured her, trying his best to be supportive.

“It will,” she insisted, sounding unbothered by it. “That’s okay, I don’t really care.”

“You don’t?” Did she care about anything anymore?

Dr. Keller cleared her throat. “So you don’t think you’ll be working?”

“I don’t know,” Tess mumbled, “I haven’t really thought that far ahead. I used to think I’d do the stay-at-home mom thing, but now . . .” She trailed off and sighed disappointedly.

“And what about kids?” Dr. Keller asked. “Neither of you mentioned them.”

Kyle winced, waiting for some kind of explosion of anger from Tess, but it never came. She just silently deferred the question to him.

“Well, I think in five years, we’ll definitely have a kid,” he said. “Right?”

She just shrugged again.

“Tess really wants to have a baby,” he explained to the therapist. “That’s kinda the root of all our problems.”

“So it’s my fault?” Tess snapped.

“No, I didn’t say that. It’s our fault, both of us. Because you pressured me and lied to me, but I shut down and led you on about it, even when I knew I wasn’t ready.”

“And why weren’t you ready, Kyle?” Dr. Keller interrupted.

“I just thought we were still kinda young. I wanted to keep focusing on my career and make sure we were financially secure. Which we are, so that’s good. You know?”

Tess rolled her eyes. Dark, eyeliner-lined eyes.

“I guess I just thought it’d be better if we waited a few more years,” Kyle finished up. He still didn’t think he’d been wrong to feel that way.

“Did you two talk about this before you got married?” Dr. Keller asked.

“Well, yeah,” he said, wishing they’d talked about it a little more, “but it’s not like we made a timeline.”

“Yes, we did,” Tess argued. “We always said around mid-twenties.”

“Around,” he emphasized. “See, it’s hopeless. We’ve been going at it about this for months now.”

“If it’s so hopeless, then why did you drag me here?” Tess asked accusingly.

“I thought it would help. I don’t know what else to do. At least I’m making an effort.”

“Let’s try not to get combative,” Dr. Keller jumped in. “This is good. You’re getting your issues out on the table.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Tess muttered, shaking her head. “I don’t wanna have kids anymore.”

“What?” Kyle spat. There was no way she’d just said that.

“You heard me. I don’t wanna have kids.”

“Since when?” All he’d heard for the past four months was how much she wanted to have kids right now and how he was pissing her off because he didn’t want the same.

“Since recently, okay?” She curled her legs up tighter towards the arm of the couch.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he said, completely astonished. He still wanted kids someday, maybe a couple years from now. She was acting like a spoiled little brat who’d just lost her favorite board game, and instead of playing again, she’d chosen to wipe out the entire board and pout. He hated thinking that about his own wife, but unless she gave him a reason to think something else . . .

“Why is it never enough for you?” she yelled. “Wanting kids makes me pushy, but not wanting them is a problem, too? What do you want from me?”

“I want my wife back!” he exclaimed in distress. “I have no idea who you are right now. I literally have no idea who you are.” He stared at her, waiting for something—anything—like an explanation or maybe even an apology. Because in the grand scheme of things, she still had more to be sorry for than he did because of the birth control fiasco.

He turned back to Dr. Keller, feeling defeated, and said, “I think we’re gonna need another session.”








TBC . . .

-April

Okay, so here's the deal: I'm going on Christmas break for awhile, but it shouldn't affect updating very much (since I'm only updating once a week right now). Expect the next update . . . hmm, maybe on Friday or something?

Ellie:

Oh lord ... Isabel! Seriously? It's still all about you, isn't it? Hopeless! At least she's in good company with Liz - another hopeless case. Hmmm ... I had an idea - but then I remembered they both hate each other. But, still ... wouldn't it be better for everyone if those two just hooked up - became lesbian lovers?

Well, that's one idea.

God, this is going to be long, hard and totally earth shattering to Tess and Kyle and not only as a couple.

Right about that.

Novy:

I was hoping Isabel would say something to clue Michael in with why Tess is being so different.

If only. But that would be way too selfless of her.

But I guess that would make her look even worse in his eyes.

Probably. Even though Billy is completely responsible for what he did, I don't think any of the Core 4 would appreciate her failed affair with him being the catalyst for it.

BB:

Miley is showing that she is just as sex obsessed as her mother.

She takes after her dad in all the good ways and her mom in all the bad ways.

While I want to smack Kyle and Maria for not being able to see that obviously something very, very bad has happened to Tess - and I feel like a total bitch for even thinking this - but Tess is making it very hard for me to feel sympathetic towards her. What happened to her was beyond horrible and I do feel sorry for her, but Tess has always the attitude of a spoiled child deprived of her favourite toy when she doesn't get her own way and that's how she's reacting now. Maybe that's why the others can't see that something has happened to her. I get that she's going through something awful and painful and nightmarish and she's entitled to go through whatever she needs to go through to deal with it but she's just being a child about it all. There, I'm a bitch.

You're not a bitch. It's a valid point. You're right, Tess does tend to get whiney and pouty and act out when she doesn't get her way, so even though the others know something is wrong with her, they don't consider that something wrong was done to her.

Neve:

Finally Kyle did the clever thing and dragged Tess to a therapist.

They probably should have gone to therapy months ago.

I'm praying that somewhere in that hollow rock that Isabel calls her heart she finds enough sympathy for Tess to let somebody know.

You might be praying for awhile, since Isabel tends to just sympathize with herself.

Leila:

I can't understand why Kyle or Maria can't see that there had happened something to Tess. I mean, they can't really believe that the pregnancy issue is the problem Tess migt have.

Maybe they're too close to her to see what happened, or maybe they don't even want to speculate that something so horrible happened. Regardless, they're not getting the open communication they need from Tess, and she's not getting the support she needs from them.


Thanks for the feedback!

Music Day: Today I'm suggesting "Karma Police" by Radiohead. Definitely one of my fave Radiohead songs. You can listen to it here or click on

Oh, and by the way, it's quite obvious that I wrote a certain scene in this part after watching the suckfest series finale of Lost.








Part 73








( )

Isabel went to work two hours early that day after spending all morning Christmas shopping. She had to buy Alex a lot of presents this year to perpetuate the illusion of a happy, functioning family. Plus, Garret really wanted a basketball hoop. It was all he’d asked for, and she wasn’t a completely horrible mother, so she had promised she’d get it for him. She would have lied and said Santa was going to get it for him, but Garret had already learned about the Santa myth last year when he’d sneaked downstairs and caught Alex eating the cookies and drinking the milk.

“Hey, Ralph,” she greeted her boss.

“Isabel, you’re early.” He promptly closed his computer screen, probably to try to conceal the fact that he was watching porn. Wasn’t that to be expected, though? They were in a porn store.

“I figured I’d come pick up some extra hours if that’s okay,” she said. “Christmas is coming up, and then Garret’s birthday’s a few months after that. I need to save up a little money to get him some things.”

“Of course,” Ralph said. “Great, if you’re gonna be here, I’ll take off. My son’s got a soccer game this afternoon. I’ll go watch him.”

She wondered if she’d go to Garret’s school activities someday. She probably would, especially now that she didn’t have Billy to distract her. It was amazing how much time she was able to devote to parenting when she didn’t devote so much to an extramarital affair. It was a good thing that he was gone. It was a really good thing.

She missed him.

“Oh, by the way,” Ralph said on his way out the door, “I hired someone new today to work the night shift with you.”

“Who?”

“His application’s in the drawer.”

Maybe he’ll be hot, she speculated. That could be a good thing, make work a little less boring. But then again, she didn’t need any more distractions.

“I think you’ll enjoy working with him,” Ralph said, smiling as he left.

Isabel set her purse down underneath the counter where it was concealed and opened up the application drawer. She took out the application on top of the stack and figured it was the new hire. When she saw the name, though, she almost lost her mind.

Max?

She crumpled his application up in her hands. No way.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There was an old bridge on the outskirts of town that overlooked the whole city. It was called the Weeping Water bridge. It was over a river where a battle between the Native Americans and the white men had taken place centuries ago, and legend had it that it was called Weeping Water because of the way the Native women had wept when they’d discovered the dead bodies of the men from their tribe. Liz knew Max liked to go out there sometimes when he wanted to be alone, when he wanted to think; but unlike the women from long ago, he never ever wept.

She drove out there that night and found him standing by the railing, staring off into space. She wondered what he was thinking about. Probably not her. He never seemed to spend too much time thinking about her anymore.

“Hey,” she said, walking up beside him.

“How’d you find me out here?” he asked.

“I know a lot about you, you know. You like to come out here sometimes.”

“It’s quiet,” he said. “My dad used to bring me and Isabel out here when we were little kids. He’d show us this view and tell us this city would be ours someday, but we both knew he was only talking to me. Eventually he stopped bringing Isabel out altogether.” He gripped the railing tightly. “I used to think she’d jump off this bridge someday. She thought the same thing about me. I still wonder who’ll jump first.”

“First?” she echoed, discomforted by the sound of that. She shifted nervously. “Well, you might feel like jumping off after you hear what I have to say.”

He turned to face her, and he didn’t even look worried. If anything, he looked accustomed to hearing bad news.

“I feel horrible for piling this on you, because Tiffany’s gone and you got fired and everything’s still really bad right now,” she said. “But I just have to say it, because if I don’t, it’s gonna fester and grow.”

“You slept with someone else, didn’t you?” he guessed.

“Yes.” She grimaced after the word left her mouth. Maybe she should have lied. “Oh, god,” she groaned in distress. “I’m so sorry, Max.”

He nodded slowly, swallowing hard. “Who was it?”

“Brandon. That guy you met . . . do you remember him?”

He nodded again.

She sighed heavily. “It was right after that fight when you said you hated me. Not that that’s any excuse, but . . . that’s when it happened.”

Max gripped the railing of the bridge so hard his knuckles turned white, but in just a few seconds, he loosened his grip and said, “Okay.”

“What?” That wasn’t exactly the reaction she’d been expecting from someone so volatile as Max.

“It’s okay,” he repeated.

“No, it’s not. Max . . .” Her mouth hung open, and she stared at him in shock. How could he just accept it, just like that? Why wasn’t he going crazy with anger? Why wasn’t he devastated? She was. Maybe he felt like it was just a karma thing, but to her, it was something much more serious. It wasn’t okay.

Liz turned and walked back to her car. His non-reaction felt like a slap in the face. Maybe she should have been relieved that he hadn’t been more upset, but she was confused and broken-hearted more than anything else.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Having survived another day at work, in that studio, Tess returned home, not sure if she even wanted to keep her business going. What was the point of designing a space for the sorority bitches? They probably already got whatever they wanted whenever they wanted it. They didn’t need this, too. She would have discussed it with Kyle if they hadn’t been so distant. She could hardly even remember what it felt like to be happy and close to him.

****

“May we have the rings, please?”

Tess turned around, and Maria gave her the wedding band. Kyle did the same with Michael, and then they turned back to each other, each smiling giddily. The nerve-wracking part, the vows, was done. There were only a few more symbolic things left before they were married for the rest of time.

“Tess, please take this ring and place it on Kyle’s hand,” the minister instructed, “and repeat after me: With this ring, I thee wed.”

Tess took Kyle’s left hand in hers and slid the simple gold wedding band onto his ring finger. “With this ring, I thee wed.”

He squeezed her hand lovingly.

“And Kyle, please take your ring and place it on Tess’s hand, and repeat after me: With this ring, I thee wed.”

With shaking fingers, Kyle put the small diamond on Tess’s hand. “With this ring, I be . . . wait.” He made a face and asked the minister, “I be or I thee?”

“I thee,” the minister repeated.

“Oh, okay. With this ring, I thee wed.”

She laughed, and they held both each other’s hands as the minister wrapped the ceremony up.

“Tess and Kyle, in the presence of God and all those who care about you, with the symbols of your love encompassing your hands and your hearts, and by the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Kyle leaned forward and planted an eager one on her as everyone cheered and clapped for them. I’m his wife now, Tess thought excitedly. Let the fairytale begin.

****

When Tess walked in the front door, the first thing she noticed was that there were a lot of people in her living room. She immediately picked out her father. “Daddy?” she squeaked. What was he doing there? It wasn’t Christmas yet.

“Oh, sweetheart . . .” Ed gazed at her with a mixture of disbelief, confusion, and sympathy in his eyes, probably because of her new look.

“Why’s everyone here?” she asked, looking around. Liz was in the corner next to the fireplace. Michael and Maria were near the bottom of the stairs, and Kyle was standing in the middle of the living room with that therapist from the other day, Dr. Know-It-All or Dr. Keller or whatever her name was. “What is this?”

“This is an intervention, Tess,” Dr. Keller said calmly.

“An-an intervention?” she stuttered, stunned. “Oh, so a girl dyes her hair and it’s time for an intervention, is it?”

Kyle tried to jump in. “Tess--”

“Was this your idea?” she asked accusingly.

“It was mine,” Dr. Keller informed her. “You were very closed off during our session.”

“Our one session!” Tess yelled. How could this woman know what she needed based on one hour-long session?

“I thought this might help,” Dr. Keller said.

“You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me!”

“None of us do, Tess,” Maria mumbled. “Not right now.”

“Maria . . . please don’t.” They were best friends. They were supposed to stick up for each other and have each other’s backs, not be against each other like this.

“The point of this intervention isn’t to blame you, Tess,” Dr. Keller explained, still using that calm, even tone that was probably meant to be comforting. “It’s to support you.”

“With what?” she barked. “I don’t have an alcohol problem. I don’t have a drug addiction. All I have is dark hair.”

“It’s not about the hair,” Kyle said. “God, I’d love you if you were three feet tall and bald. It’s not about that.”

“It’s about reopening the lines of communication so that you can tell us what’s bothering you,” Dr. Keller elaborated. She was starting to sound condescending.

“You wanna know what’s bothering me? This is bothering me, and so are all of you!” Tess yelled. She tried to storm upstairs, but Michael’s presence in front of the staircase impeded her progress. “Move,” she said pleadingly. “Michael!”

He didn’t budge.

“Ed, why don’t you go first?” Dr. Keller suggested.

“Daddy, don’t,” she whimpered, slinking back towards the front door. She put one hand on the doorknob and thought about bolting, but when her father started to talk, she stuck around.

“Tessie . . . Kyle told me he’s worried about you. So I hopped on the first plane I could and got down here. And now I understand why he’s so worried. You’re a part of me, so I now you pretty well, well enough to know this isn’t you.” He blinked back tears and practically whispered, “Whatever you’re going through . . . I’d just like to help.”

She ran one hand through her hair. This whole thing was stressing her out.

“Liz, you next,” Dr. Keller continued to facilitate.

“God, what’re you even doing here?” Tess roared, unleashing all her anger on her employee. “We’re not really friends. You slept with the guy I was dating. I don’t even like you; I pity you.”

“You’re lying,” Liz said almost as calmly as Dr. Keller. “We are friends. Somehow, we are, and I care about that friendship too much to just let you drift away like this. That’s why I’m here.”

“I wish you weren’t.”

Dr. Keller turned and said, “Maria?”

“Maria, please . . .” Tess begged. Maybe if she would refuse to participate, they could put an end to this.

Maria cleared her throat and started in. “You can’t possibly deny that we’re friends. Because we’re more than that. We’re family. We always have been, even before our parents got married.” She sighed shakily. “You’re my sister in every sense of the word, and I’m tired of seeing my sister like this.”

I’m tired, too, Tess thought. She didn’t like being this way.

“Look, I don’t wanna make you feel bad,” Maria went on, “but you’re Miley’s godmother, and Macy’s, too. That means you’re supposed to raise them if anything ever happens to me and Michael. But right now, I’m scared to let you anywhere near them.”

She winced and looked away.

“I’m sorry, that’s just . . . how I feel.” Maria shrugged innocently.

“Michael?” Dr. Keller urged.

Tess lifted her head again, shaking her head. “Oh, don’t you even start with me. Michael, I love you like a brother, but you’re this flawless, flawless person. You never make mistakes; nothing bad ever happens to you. You’re smart and you’re nice and you do such a good job taking care of your family.”

“You’re part of the family I’m trying to take care of,” Michael informed her. “And for the record, I’m not flawless. I don’t pretend to be.”

“How can you understand what it’s like to be me?” Tess wondered. Everyone was so willing to walk in her shoes until they were actually in them.

“Maybe I can’t,” he admitted. “But I can try. I’ve been to some dark places over the years, too, you know. People disappointed me, and I felt like my life was over. But it wasn’t.” He squeezed Maria’s hand and said, “It hadn’t even begun.”

Tess sighed heavily, recognizing that they were only trying to empathize and help. But the more they said, the more pressure she felt. It seemed as if the world were closing in on her, cornering her.

“Kyle, go ahead,” Dr. Keller invited.

He flapped his arms against his sides and opened his mouth, not saying anything for a moment. Finally, he said, “I love you. I don’t know what else to say.”

I love you, too, Kyle, she thought, hoping she still had the ability to love.

“I’m trying to love this new you,” Kyle went on, “but it’s really hard.”

“What happened to ‘three feet tall and bald,’ huh?”

“That’s just the outside; that doesn’t matter. This, right here on the inside . . .” He held his fist over his heart. “That matters. I just wish you would let me back in.”

“I can’t,” she whispered, not sure if he even heard her.

“Tess, now that you’ve heard what everyone has to say, is there anything you’d like to say in response?” Dr. Keller asked encouragingly.

She shook her head vigorously. “I don’t wanna let anyone in.” The last time anyone had ever been in, it had hurt so much, and she’d been so scared. “I don’t wanna let anyone in ever again.” She slid down, leaning back against the door, trying to hold the sadness inside while the anger manifested itself. Kyle came up to her and reached out to put his hand on her shoulder, but she jerked away and yelled, “Don’t touch me!” She forced herself back up onto her feet, locking eyes with all of them at least once before she said, “Do you really wanna know what’s wrong with me? I mean, really?”

They all nodded.

Just say it, she told herself. Get it out. “The other night, I was . . .” It was one word. One word she couldn’t say. Raped. She knew it had happened, so it wasn’t a question of admitting it. It was fear, fear of the way they would look at her and think of her. What if things were even worse than they were now? “I was depressed,” she filled in instead, and it was partially true. “And it isn’t getting better.”

“Depressed about what, Tess?” Dr. Keller asked.

“Just . . . things. Life in general. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

But the woman was insistent. “Sometimes it helps to--”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Was that so hard to understand? “So there you have it. I’m depressed. Just let me work it out on my own. I don’t want any help. I don’t need any help. I’ll be fine.” She pushed past Michael and stormed upstairs, hoping they knew that was as much emotion as they were going to see out of here for a long time to come.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I don’t think she’s gonna be fine.” Maria kicked off her bedroom slippers and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for some kind of reassuring response from Michael, but she never got one. “That’s your cue to say, ‘No, Maria, don’t worry. We’ll see her through this,’” she informed him. “Whatever ‘this’ is.”

He sighed, climbing into bed. “I’m worried too,” he admitted. “She has to want our help, though. There’s not much we can do.”

She pulled back the covers and lay down beside him. “Was I too harsh when I said I’m scared to leave the girls with her?”

“No, you were honest.”

“Maybe ‘scared’ wasn’t the right word. More like nervous,” she contemplated. “Uneasy. Is that the same thing?”

“Pretty much.” He opened up his arm, and she snuggled against him, draping her right leg over his waist.

“Do you think I’m flawless?” he asked.

“Well . . .”

“Please don’t say yes. I can’t live up to that.”

“You’re amazing,” she said. “Flawless? No. Sometimes you leave the toilet seat up, and there’s always facial hair in the sink. You wimped out of the sex talk with Miley--”

“As did you.”

“And then there’s the little matter of you being way too forgiving for your own good. Case in point: Isabel.”

He groaned.

“I’m just saying, I’d never wanna see her face again if I were you. But I’m not you, so whatever.”

“Well, it’s not that I want to see her face again,” he clarified.

“But it doesn’t totally infuriate you if you do. I don’t like it, but I’ve accepted it.”

He threaded his fingers through her hair. “So I’m not Jack?”

“What?”

“Jack Shepherd on Lost. Even when he fucks up, he’s still got the God-complex and the compulsive desire to fix things. But in the end, his flaw is what saves them all, so then technically he’s flawless.”

“Oh, you’re totally not Jack,” she assured him. “I hate him. I love you. You’re more like Sawyer.”

“How? He’s a conman.”

“But he’s smart and sexy,” she pointed out. “Very sexy. A little flawed, but not in the contrived way Jack is. He’s way better. Everyone thinks so.”

“Everyone?”

“Yeah, unless they’re delusional and/or brainwashed. God, I hate the way that show ended. Jate and Suliet?” She made a face of disgust. “Ugh, pass the barf bag. I’m not even a writer, and even I know it should have been Skate.”

“Skate?” he asked.

“Sawyer and Kate. They have all that natural sexual chemistry that’s necessary to make a relationship work.”

“Natural chemistry?” he echoed.

“Uh-huh.”

“Like this kind of chemistry?” He slipped one hand down under the covers in between them to sneak between her legs and touch her most intimate regions.

“Uh . . .” she moaned.

“And this?” He bent down and pressed a hot, forceful kiss to the side of her neck.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, shivering with delight. “Just like that.” She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer for a moment before pushing him away and deciding, “We can’t do this.”

“What?” He looked so sad and disappointed to hear that.

“We attended an intervention tonight, Tess’s intervention. We can’t do it now. It’d be . . . disrespectful, like swearing in church.”

He laughed a little.

“Besides, I have my student teaching interview at Pidmont Elementary tomorrow,” she groaned, “so I need to be rested.” She really wanted to snag a spot there since Lucinda would be there. It would be nice to have a familiar, friendly face nearby at all times.

“Okay, I suppose,” he resigned.

“Sorry.” She turned around so that he was spooning behind her, his arms around her midsection. “Do you think she’s really depressed?” she asked.

“Who, Tess?”

“No, Martha Stewart,” she joked.

He thought about it for a moment and decided, “I think she is. I’m talking about Martha, you know.”

“Oh, of course.” She hated to think of Tess going through something so dark and terrifying. “I think she should take some medication. Remember when I had anxiety after Miley was born? Then I took those pretty little pink pills, and it was all better.”

“Hmm.” His breath tickled the back of her neck.

“I just wish there was something more we could do,” she said. “And I wish I didn’t have that interview tomorrow. It’s stressing me out.”

“You’ll do fine,” he promised. “You’ll do better than fine. You’re a people-person. You’ll charm the socks off your interviewer.”

“I hope so. I really want this to work out.”

“It will. Whoever your first students are, they’re gonna be so lucky to have you. Just like I am.”

She grinned and teased, “Flawless.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Kyle sat on the couch that night with his head in his hands. He felt like going for a drive or going to work to get his mind off of the Tess situation. After the intervention, she’d shut herself in the bedroom and hadn’t come back out. Ed had gone up and tried to talk to her, but judging by the disappointed look on his face when he trudged back downstairs, he hadn’t had much success.

“I think this is the first time my daughter’s given me the silent treatment since she was six,” he said.

“Welcome to my world,” Kyle mumbled. Tess barely talked to him anymore, and whenever she did, she sounded angry. How was it that just a couple days ago, they’d been dancing around the living room to Britney Spears music and tangling around each other in bed? It felt like a lifetime ago.

“I can see why you’re so worried about her,” Ed said. “It was good of you to call me. Do you think I should stay for a few extra days?”

“Probably not. It puts pressure on her, you know?”

Ed nodded in agreement. “Will you keep me in the loop with what’s going on, let me know if I need to come down again?”

“Of course,” Kyle promised. “And you’ll be back for Christmas, so . . . hopefully she’s better by then.” Tess loved Christmas. She loved to decorate and cook and wrap presents. But they didn’t even have a tree yet this year.

“Hopefully,” Ed agreed. “How do you think the intervention went?”

Kyle shook his head regretfully. “I think it was a bad idea.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because she was supposed to feel supported, but I think she just felt attacked.”

“Well, at least she admitted she’s depressed,” Ed said with a shrug. “That’s probably the first step. I just wish we knew what she’s depressed about.”

“Probably the baby thing,” Kyle muttered. “Not even probably. That’s . . . that’s what it is.” He sighed heavily. “It’s my fault.”

“What do you mean?”

“I broke her heart when I wasn’t as eager to have a baby as she was,” he explained. “If I’d known she was gonna end up like this, I would’ve done stuff differently.” He would have just agreed to it right away, given her what she wanted without questioning it.

“Kyle, I know a thing or two about marriage on account of being married twice now,” Ed said, sounding comforting and wise, “and one thing I’ve come to realize is that almost all marriage problems are split fifty-fifty. You can’t blame it all on yourself. There’s always something both of you could have done or said better. It’s not all on you.”

Kyle swallowed hard, thinking back to all the times Tess had put the pressure on him about having a kid, demanding that he make up his mind, and all the times he’d gotten defensive or, even worse, shut down completely and not said anything at all. They’d never had the best flow of communication; they tended to let stupid things get in the way. “Does it ever get easier?” he asked.

Ed smiled. “I’d love to say yes, but no, it really doesn’t. Women are a fascinatingly complex mystery, Kyle. If we weren't constantly trying to figure them out, we wouldn’t know what to do with ourselves.”

Kyle chuckled. He enjoyed trying to figure Tess out, just so long as he knew that they’d still be together once she was figured.








TBC . . .

-April

I really intended to respond to feedback today, but I got so distracted with my Christmas shopping that now I'm running short on time. (Got a party to get to, and it's being thrown for me! ) So I'd better make it brief today and say THANK YOU to:

BB

Ellie

Novy

Neve

Leila

If I spoiled Lost for anyone, I apologize. I just have to get my complaints in somewhere.

I might or might not be able to do another update before Christmas -- not sure when, but it MAY happen. In case it doesn't, though, HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO EVERYONE!

Now, I know this is kind of a short part, but you guys know how I like my cliffhanger endings.








Part 74








Liz asked Alex to accompany her to lunch the next day. They used to go out for lunch a lot back when he’d first moved to Santa Fe, but they’d drifted apart since then. He had his problems and she had hers. But lately, her problems seemed to be a lot more noticeable. He, on the other hand, actually seemed sort of happy.

“So I went to an intervention yesterday,” she said after the waitress brought their appetizers.

“Whose?” he asked.

“Tess’s.”

“Maria’s friend?”

She nodded.

“Wow. What’s wrong with her.”

“She’s depressed, which was kind of a given. I don’t know what about.”

Alex split one of his mozzarella sticks in half and popped one end of it into his mouth. “So who else was there, her husband and Michael and Maria?”

“And her dad, yeah.”

“Did you feel out of place?”

She shrugged. “Not really.”

“I would’ve felt out of place,” he mumbled, almost as though he were intimidated by the four of them. “I’m glad you guys never held an intervention for me. It was better for me to stop drinking on my own.”

She raised her fork to dig into her salad, but when what he said registered, she set it back down again. “You stopped?”

He nodded proudly. “Yeah.”

“Good for you, Alex.” Maybe that was why he seemed so happy. Maybe that meant this wasn’t the right time to try to sort out all her own drama with him. They used to complain about Max and Isabel when they got together and ate lunch like this, ask each other if they were crazy to love them and assure each other they weren’t. But could they do that when one of them was happy and the other wasn’t?

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Oh . . . nothing.”

“No, something,” he pressed.

“You might feel like drinking again if I tell you about my problems.”

“Shoot,” he told her.

She sighed, figuring he was about the only person she could tell. Tess was depressed and couldn’t help her out, and Max didn’t seem to give a damn. “I slept with someone,” she blurted.

“That Brandon guy?” he guessed.

“How’d you know?”

“It was obvious to everyone but Max,” he answered. “I tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“You warned him?” she echoed incredulously. “Unbelievable. He knew it was coming, and he still didn’t do anything to stop it. Granted, there shouldn’t have been anything to stop; but there was, because I used such poor judgment.” She pushed her salad plate aside, no longer hungry. “God, when I told him, he was, like, emotionless. Isn’t that weird?”

“It is,” Alex agreed. “That doesn’t sound like Max.”

“But it is.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, wishing she wasn’t so messed up that she would have preferred a furious, aggressive, maybe even violent reaction to this passive one. “I don’t know what’s more upsetting, the fact that I cheated on him or the fact that he doesn’t care.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Isabel stormed into the video store that day on her way home from Christmas shopping. “Ralph,” she said sternly, “I need to talk to you. There’s no way in hell you can possibly consider hiring my brother . . .” She trailed off when the devil himself stood up between rows of movies and waved at her. “Max,” she growled. Great, he was wearing an employee’s uniform.

“Hi, Isabel,” he greeted faux-sweetly. “Ralph’s been training me. Looks like I’m gonna beat your training record.”

“Is that so?” She pressed her lips together tightly to keep from cussing him out. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked her boss.

Ralph walked around the counter and stood beside her. “Isabel, I don’t understand,” he said. “What’s the problem? Max said you two get along great.”

“Max was lying,” she informed him. “That’s what he does. He lies. Trust me, you don’t want someone like him working for you.” Not that she was much different, but whatever.

“He ran a multi-million dollar hotel company, though,” Ralph argued.

“Past tense,” she pointed out. “Present tense? He’s a despicable human being going nowhere in life, and my relationship with him is one of mutual hatred.”

“She’s exaggerating,” Max interrupted, making his way towards them.

“No, I’m not. Shut up, Max.”

“Sure, we’ve had our ups and downs—what siblings haven’t?” he said. “But we always get past it in the end. We’re twins. That means we’ll always have a super closer bond.”

“Super close,” she echoed sarcastically, feeling nauseous.

“There’s no reason why we can’t work together.”

“I don’t need any help,” she proclaimed proudly.

“Actually, you will,” Ralph interjected. “With Christmas coming up, a lot of students will be on break. They’ll flood this place.”

“High school students?” Max echoed.

Isabel made a face. “College students, dumbass.” High school students weren’t old enough to rent porn.

“Max makes a good point, though,” Ralph said. “High school students will be on break, too. Better get strict on checking IDs.”

Isabel rolled her eyes. It was clear that her boss and her brother had formed a tight fraternal bond. If she couldn’t get Max fired, maybe she could at least get the shifts rearranged. “I’ve got an idea,” she announced. “Max can work days and somebody else can work nights with me.” There were two part-time employees she hadn’t met yet.

“Nobody else can,” Ralph said.

Max smirked. “Face it, Isabel: We’re stuck together.”

She wanted to smack him.

“This is a good thing, I promise,” Ralph assured her. “It’s not safe for a young woman like yourself to be here alone at night. Your brother can protect you if anything were to go wrong.”

“He wouldn’t protect me; he’d use me as a human shield!” she shrieked.

“She’s right. I probably would,” Max admitted.

She crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. “What if I quit?”

“I sincerely hope you don’t,” Ralph said. “You’re a great worker.”

“You can’t quit, Isabel,” Max said smugly. “You have a family to provide for.”

Dammit, she swore internally. Why couldn’t Alex have a job, too? She couldn’t even pressure him into getting one because she had to keep him complacent.

“Just give her a little while to adjust,” Max said to Ralph. “She’ll get used to it. Hey, you ever seen this one?” He handed her boss—their boss—a movie.

“Horny Spanish Maids?” Ralph read the title. “No, I haven’t, but it sounds like a classic.”

Isabel rolled her eyes. They even had the same taste in porn. Max was going to be working there for a long time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maria sat outside the vice principal’s office at Pidmont Elementary, nervously wringing her hands together. She’d gotten there a half an hour early just to be safe, but now she wished she’d waited until the last minute to show up, because her stomach had been churning for half an hour and it wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Her cell phone rang while she was waiting, so she made a mental note to turn it off before her interview started. “Hello?” she answered.

“Hey,” Michael said. “How’d the interview go?”

“It hasn’t gone yet,” she replied. “It’s at 1:30.”

“Oh, I forgot. So I’m not interrupting?”

“Yep, I’m just playin’ the waiting game.” She sighed. “I’m so nervous.”

“You don’t need to be,” he assured her.

“Seriously, my stomach’s been doing back flips all day. I feel like I’m gonna be sick.” She’d skipped both lunch and breakfast because she wasn’t sure she could keep anything down. If the interview went well, maybe she’d have a feast for dinner.

“Just try not to worry,” Michael said. “You’ll do great.”

“I hope so.”

“Call me when it’s done and let me know how it went.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Bye.”

She stuffed her phone back in her purse and pressed a button on the side to turn it off. She glanced around frantically for the bathroom. She really was going to be sick. Maybe she had enough time to duck in there, puke, pop a breath mint, and then come back out for the interview? No, she wasn’t really going to puke. Probably.

The door to the vice principal’s office opened, and Lucinda walked out.

“Hey, Lucinda,” Maria chirped, waving at her friend.

“Hey, what’re you doing here?”

“My interview.” She made a face of dread.

“Really? Oh, you’ll do fine,” Lucinda assured her, sitting down beside her. “Steven’s really nice.”

She gave her a confused look. Steven? Who was Steven?

“Oh, he’s the vice principal.”

Holy crap, she thought, they’re on a first-name basis already?

“I was just in there talking to him about what class he wants me to teach.”

“God, you were so proactive about this. I should’ve been proactive, too,” Maria lamented. “Now I’m stuck doing everything at the last minute.”

“Oh, honey, you sound nervous,” Lucinda remarked.

“I am. I don’t feel well.”

“Just relax. It’s not that hard.”

“What kinds of questions does he ask? Are they really big and open-ended?”

Lucinda hesitated a bit before answering in an unconvincing tone. “No, not . . . not really.”

Ten minutes later, Maria sat across from Steven in his office. He absolutely insisted on being addressed by his first name, which actually made Maria feel quite uncomfortable. He was clearly her superior, and she clearly had no idea what she was doing, so putting a Mr. in front of a last name would have felt more natural.

“So Maria,” he said, smiling at her encouragingly, “why do you want to work with children?”

She swallowed hard. “Well . . . um . . .” She remembered writing a paper about this, but she could suddenly no longer recall a word of it. “That’s a very open-ended question.” She laughed uneasily. “I guess . . . I guess I didn’t always want to. In fact, I used to not know what I wanted out of life at all. I was pretty directionless. I started out as a journalism major, and then . . .” She decided to brush past her sex therapist idea. “Something else. Neither of those was really right for me, so I switched to education. Not that it was a last resort or anything.” She cringed, hating her answer probably about as much as he did. “I’m not saying this right.”

“Take your time,” Steven said.

She took a few seconds to compose herself and think through the answer in her head before she started talking again. “I had a daughter three years ago, and she just opened my eyes to this side of myself I never even knew existed. Before her, I never knew I could be so responsible and nurturing and . . . well, teacherly.” She was pretty sure that wasn’t a word, but he smiled and nodded as though it were. “I love watching her and my other daughter grow and learn new things, and I really love being the one to teach them things. It makes me feel . . . fulfilled. And I know that, when I’m a teacher, I’ll feel that same fulfillment, because my students will sort of be my kids in the classroom.”

“So what about those times when you feel more frustrated than fulfilled?” he inquired. “Because that’s bound to happen.”

“Yeah. I think that’ll be part of my learning, though. And I have to be willing to learn every day while I’m teaching. That’s part of my philosophy.”

“So you’re a big learner?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she lied, grinning cheesily. This coming from the girl whose entire relationship with her children’s father stemmed from cheating off his tests in a college algebra class.

“That’s good to hear,” Steven said, marking some notes down on a paper. “So you have kids. Are you married?”

“No.”

“Single mother?”

“No.” Where was he going with this?

“I only ask because I need to know what your availability’s like,” he explained.

“Well, we send them to daycare, so it’s no problem. And their father is a very active parent, so he helps me out a lot. Availability’s not gonna be a problem.”

“That’s great,” he said. “So let’s say that, at the end of the semester, I offer you a job. What do you think you’d do?”

She got excited just thinking about that. “I think—well, no, I know—I would take the job. I’m not one of those people who wants to jump around from school to school after she graduates. I wanna find a school and get settled there as soon as I can for as long as I can.”

“And what makes you think this is the right school for you?”

“Well, my friend Lucinda . . .”

“Oh, yeah, she was just in here.”

“Yeah. She told me it’s a . . .” Her stomach did a back flip, making her feel nauseous. “A really good school. I was really impressed by everything she . . .” Maria swallowed hard, not understanding why she was still feeling nervous when the interview had finally taken a turn for the best. “Sorry,” she apologized, holding one hand to her stomach.

“Do you need some water?” he asked, reaching back behind his desk towards his small refrigerator.

“No, I’m fine,” she assured him, though she could barely speak with the lump rising in her throat. She tried to remember what she was talking about. The school. Right, the school, and why it was the right school for her. “Maybe when my kids are a little older, I might send . . .” She trailed off shakily, trying to get her body under control. “I might send them . . . here.” The nausea peaked, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. “Oh god.” She grabbed the trash can next to the side of his desk and bent forward, throwing up. It was loud and it was gross, and it burned her throat.

“Oh, my,” Steven said, rolling his chair backwards a little.

“Oh my god,” she groaned in horror, wiping off her mouth with the back of her hand. The worst part was that she didn’t even feel like she was done. She sat up slowly, setting the trashcan back down. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“It’s okay,” Steven said. “Maybe you should go home. We were almost done anyway.”

“This is so embarrassing,” she said, feeling close to tears. “I just feel like I . . .” She trailed off and froze in place as realization dawned on her. This wasn’t nervousness. She knew this. She’d felt it many times before.

After she ran to the girls’ bathroom, threw up two more times, and left the school, Maria went to the pharmacy and marched down the aisle containing the pregnancy tests.








TBC . . .

-April

Well, I'm back. I wish I could say I was glad about it, but I'm going through major family withdrawals right now, and I've only been away from them for a few hours. I'm missing my mom and my dogs like crazy. It is good to be back with you lovely people, though.

I'm afraid we've lost Rod to the angst of this story. Wouldn't be surprised if more people drop out by the end. It's quite the trying fic.

I got a lot of writing done over break, but since I'm embarking on my last semester of college (the dreaded student teaching), I think I'll keep updates at once a week for right now so as not to overload myself.

My music rec for this update is "Only One" (acoustic) by Yellowcard. Some of you may know that this song is my second-favorite song of all time, and the acoustic version is just as beautiful. You can listen to it here or click on when you see it if you'd like to listen.

It's late for me right now and I need to eat dinner, so I'm going to keep this brief and say THANK YOU FOR THE FEEDBACK, EVERYONE!

Now, onward at last . . .








Part 75









Dinosaurs were fun. Miley liked playing with her T-Rex and T-Sex. When Garret came back from the bathroom, he was going to play with her.

“Hey, Miley!” a boy named Joey yelled as he and his brother Kevin came up to her. They were twins and a couple years older. They were the mean kids. Nobody liked them.

“What?” she asked, standing up. She hoped they wouldn’t make fun of her.

“We don’t like you,” Joey said.

“Yeah, we don’t like you,” Kevin agreed.

“Why not?” What was wrong with her?

“‘Cause we’re not supposed to,” Joey said.

“Yeah, my mom and dad said your mom and dad are stupid,” Kevin told her.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh,” they argued together.

“My mama and daddy are the best mama and daddy in the whole world.”

“My mom says your mom’s a slut,” Joey said.

“What’s a slut?”

“Your mom!” Kevin yelled, and he and his brother laughed.

“Yeah, because she has kids and she’s not married,” Joey said.

“You’re a slut, too!”

“Stop it!” she yelled, raising her hand to try to get Miss Pam’s attention.

“Miley’s mom’s a slut! Miley’s mom’s a slut!” Kevin sang.

All of a sudden, Garret was there. “Hey!” he shouted. “Don’t make fun of Miley!” Even though he was smaller than Kevin, he pushed him down on the floor. Kevin started to cry. Miley did the same thing to Joey, and she felt a little better.

“Hey, stop that!” Miss Pam yelled, finally coming towards them. She sounded mad. “Everybody back away.”

Miley sat back down with her dinosaurs. She was going to get in trouble now.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Max opened up a box of cookie dough bites and started eating, nodding his head in approval as he did so. “These are good,” he declared.

Isabel watched him out of the corner of her eye as she scanned in movies from the drop-off box. “You have to pay for that, you know.”

Max made a face. “Says who?”

“Says me; and since I’m the manager-on-duty and therefore your boss, you have to listen to me.”

Max grunted. “My boss. Yeah, right.”

“I am,” she insisted. “And that’s how it should’ve always been. If Dad had left the company in my hands, it never would’ve gone under. I would’ve hired you, and then neither one of us would be working here.”

“You would’ve hired me?” he echoed disbelievingly.

“Yeah. As a janitor.”

“I think I’d rather work here.” He set the cookie dough bites on the counter and strolled over to the New Release wall to grab a few movies. “Can I take these home and watch ‘em?” he asked.

“You get three free employee rentals per week.”

He set one movie back and made his way behind the counter to check his movies out. “When can I go?” he asked impatiently.

“Oh, buckle down, brother dearest. Our shift’s barely started. We’ve got another six hours ahead of us.” The good thing about working evenings was that the store got busier and the time went faster.

“But I’ve been here all day for training,” he whined.

“A little hard work won’t kill you, Max. Or maybe it will. I hope it does.”

“Well, as a former stripper, you’d know all about hard work, wouldn’t you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Drop dead, Max.” She glanced over her shoulder and couldn’t help but notice that Michael was preparing to leave his gallery. He and Kyle were vacuuming and closing up. She sighed wistfully. The bad part about the night shift was that her eye candy was gone.

Max must’ve noticed who she was staring at, because he sarcastically grumbled, “Oh, yeah, you’re really devoted to Alex. This clean slate with him is bound to last.”

“What?” she barked. “I can look at Michael whenever I see him. Besides, you’re one to talk. How devoted are you to Liz? God only knows how many times you’ve cheated on her over the years.”

“Never,” he claimed.

She gave him a look. Did he really think she was that dumb?

“Seriously,” he insisted. “She cheated on me, though.”

“For real?”

He nodded. “Yeah. She slept with another man. An artist.”

“Hmm.” She smiled. Artists definitely had an appeal. “And this doesn’t bother you? The Max I know would send his thugs to beat the guy up.”

“Okay, first off, I no longer have my own thugs,” he reminded her, “and even if I did . . . that was the old me.”

“Oh, and the new you is just such a good guy.”

“No, the new me’s so used to hearing bad news, nothing fazes me anymore.”

“Well, it should. She may be a moronic bitch, but she’s still your wife. Hell, even I was a little mad when I found out Alex had cheated on me. If you’re not mad, then . . . well, you’re pretty much a robot.” She shrugged.

“I guess I’m a robot then, because I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do.” She knew her brother better than just about anyone else, and she knew that beneath the surface, he really was bothered and jealous. “I have to applaud Liz, though. This may be the one smart thing she’s ever done in her life.”

“Cheating on me?”

“Yeah. Think about it. It’s her way out.”

“Her way out of our marriage?”

She nodded.

“Why would she cheat on me?”

She laughed at his dementedness. “Why wouldn’t she? You may love her, but face it, Max: You’re either a robot or a rapist. There’s really no good in-between.”

He hung his head and didn’t say anything. It sure felt good to discourage him.

Isabel’s phone rang, and she answered it. “Hello?” She heard Pam from Happy Hearts rambling almost incoherently about something, and her first thought was that Miley and Garret had run away again. But then she heard the word fight, and her interest piqued. “What?” She glanced out the door and through the window of the C4 gallery. Michael was on his phone, too, probably with the other daycare director, because he slowly turned and looked at her.

Isabel had to fight the urge to smile. Her son could be such a little Romeo sometimes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael went to Happy Hearts as soon as he got the call about the conflict Miley had been involved in. Isabel and Alex were both there, too, along with a woman named Abigail, who was the mother of the two other boys who had been involved. She seemed to be attempting to flirt with him at first until she realized he wasn’t interested. He’d tried calling Maria, but he kept getting her voicemail.

“I don’t see what the problem is,” Isabel said nonchalantly after Pam told them all about what had happened. “Garret was protecting his friend, and Miley was protecting herself.”

Beside her, Alex nodded. He’d barely said one word since he’d shown up there.

“Protecting her from what?” Abigail asked.

“Your sons’ bullying,” Michael jumped in. Wasn’t it obvious?

“Oh, pshaw,” Abigail said uncaringly. “My boys may have said a few harmless words, but they’re the ones who can’t stop crying because they got pushed on the floor.”

“You don’t get it,” Michael snapped. “None of this ever would’ve happened if your kids hadn’t been badmouthing my wife.”

“Girlfriend,” Isabel corrected quickly. “He’s right, though. Your boys are the source of this problem.”

“Actually, it’s not even their fault,” Michael reconsidered. “It’s hers.”

Abigail gasped, holding a hand to her chest.

“Let’s try not to blame anyone here,” Pam stepped in.

“To hell with that,” Michael decided. “Because of her, my daughter’s gonna ask me what a slut is tonight; and it’s not Maria, by the way.”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly Maria DeLuca’s biggest fan,” Isabel said, “but even I know not to trash-talk her to my son.”

“They overheard me while I was gossiping with a friend,” Abigail explained. “She stole my boyfriend back in college, okay? When I ran into her at the daycare the other day, that animosity came back. I’ll tell my boys never to bully anyone again. You’d best tell your children not to resort to physical violence to solve their problems.”

Michael hated her condescending tone. “Yeah, and you should grow up. You’re not in college anymore.”

Abigail smiled. “But from what I hear, Maria still is.”

He got up and left the room before he said something he’d regret. People like that weren’t even worth the hassle. He stormed back out to the playroom where Miley and Garret were both waiting under the supervision of Pam’s partner Cecily. Abigail’s sons’ father had already brought them home.

“Hi, Daddy,” Miley said in a less-than-chipper tone. “Where’s Mama?”

“I don’t know.” He wished he could get a hold of her. She was probably at home fretting about how her interview had gone. “We’re gonna go home, okay? Let’s get your shoes on.”

She sat down on the floor and held up her shoes for him to assist her with.

“Hi, Mr. Guerin,” Garret said quietly.

“Hi, Garret.” He was choosing not to worry about the fact that, once again, Miley had gotten into trouble with Isabel’s son. At least she had a friend who would defend her if she ever needed defending, but they were going to have to have a serious talk about what to do when other kids got mean.

Isabel and Alex came into the playroom a moment later and got Garret. “Gare-bear, time to go home,” Isabel said.

“Bye, Miley,” he said, scurrying towards his parents. He and Alex headed out, but Isabel hung back and said, “Hey. You handled that really well.”

“Yeah, so did you,” Michael told her. She’d managed to be only the second-most stubborn woman in the room with Abigail there.

She smiled and headed out after her husband and son.

“Daddy?” Miley squeaked out quietly.

“Huh?”

“Are you mad at me?”

He lifted her up onto her feet. “No,” he said. He felt sorry that she’d had to deal with being made fun of already at such a young age.

“Is Mama gonna be mad at me?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, but he had a feeling she wasn’t going to be happy about any of this. The fact that she wasn’t even there spoke volumes. She must’ve had a bad day.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ten minutes had passed. That was enough time. Probably more than enough. Maria sat on the closed toilet seat, her entire body tensed up. The nausea had passed, but the nervousness hadn’t. On the edge of the sink beside her was the small strip she’d just peed on, the one that could potentially change her life. Again. The instructions said it took ten minutes for a result to come up, but she knew from experience that five minutes was usually long enough. She knew exactly what meant yes and what meant no. The only thing she didn’t know was what result she was hoping for this time.

****

( )

The pregnancy test fluttered in Maria’s hand as she walked out of the bathroom. “I can’t look,” she said, sitting down on the side of the bed. She held the test out to Michael, concealing the result window with her thumb.

“Oh, so . . . I-I have to?” Michael sputtered.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Okay.” He cautiously took the test from her, keeping the result window covered with his hand as well. He sat there for a moment, just rocking back and forth instead of looking at what it said. “I’m just gonna give it one more minute to make sure it worked.”

“Oh, give me that.” She yanked it away from him. “I can do this. It’s not like I haven’t before. When I did it the first time, I was all alone. Things were so weird between us.”

“Yeah, I still feel bad about that,” he mumbled, sounding ashamed.

“Not your fault.” He hadn’t known that she’d been pregnant with his child and Isabel hadn’t been. “You know, whether I’m pregnant or not, I’m never letting you pull out again,” she informed him.

“Yeah, I’ll admit, that was pretty dumb of me.”

“Condoms,” she said, nodding decidedly. “Condoms for Christmas. That’s what you’re gettin’ this year.”

He laughed, then got serious again. “I’ll do it,” he said, wiping his hands against his pants.

Good, she thought, because she really didn’t want to. She handed the test back to him again.

“Two lines means yes, one means no, right?” he said.

“Right.”

“Okay.” He looked down at the test but kept his hand clasped over the result window. “Hey, no matter what it says, I’m the luckiest, happiest man in the world,” he told her.

“Yeah, you are,” she agreed. “Alright, go for it.”

“Okay. We have . . .” He slowly unclasped his hand. “Two pink lines.”

Two, she registered. That meant . . .

“Wow,” he said in astonishment. “We’re gonna have another baby. Maria, you’re pregnant again.”

She exhaled shakily. “Oh, boy.”

“You think it’s a boy?”

“What? I don’t know. I’m pregnant?” She could barely believe it, even though she felt pregnant.

“Yeah.” He set the test aside on the nightstand. “Oh my god, come here.” He pulled her close and hugged her. “Oh, I’m so happy. I’m so happy, Maria.” He released her from the hug quickly and asked, “Are you? Are you happy?”

She smiled a little. “Yeah. Yeah, I . . . I’m happy.” She realized how unconvincing she sounded, and the look on his face told her he wasn’t buying it. “I am, really,” she insisted. “I’m just . . . surprised. I didn’t think this would happen again so soon.”

“Me neither, but . . . that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, picturing the next eight months of her life. “I’m gonna get big again. Miley’s gonna be a big sister.”

“Oh, she’s gonna love that.”

“Yeah, she is.” Miley was going to be such a good big sister. And Michael was already a great dad. And she was a pretty good mom. She made the sacrifices that moms sometimes had to make for their kids.

“Listen, I don’t want you to worry about anything,” Michael said, holding her hands in his, tracing his thumbs over her knuckles. “We’ve got our house, and the gallery’s up and running now. If we need to, we can always ask my parents for help again. We’re gonna be fine financially.”

“I know. I know that.” That wasn’t what she was worried about.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said. “This is really good. It’s just kinda bad timing since I was finally gonna finish school and we were gonna get married.”

“Well, we can still do that.”

She shook head, dismissing that idea immediately. “No, I don’t wanna be pregnant on my wedding day. No. We’ll just push that back. Same with school.”

“Why school?”

“Because I can’t start student teaching when I’m eight months pregnant.” It just wasn’t feasible, and securing a job with a toddler and a newborn wasn’t going to be feasible either. “Besides, you remember how tough the first pregnancy was for me. I was so sick I could barely get out of bed some days. I missed so much class, wasted all that money on books and tuition and fees. I’m not gonna do that again.” She’d gotten pretty good at the stay-at-home-mom thing these past few years. She could do it for another year. “It’s okay,” she assured him. “It’s just a change of plans. I can deal.”

“Okay, whatever you want,” he said. “You can always change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

He kept looking at her skeptically.

“It’s okay,” she told him again. “We’re having another baby. It’s more than okay. It’s . . . it’s a baby.” She smiled, finally starting to get excited. “Do you think it’s gonna be a boy or a girl?”

“Another girl, I bet.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I love her already.” He bent down and pressed a kiss to her flat-for-now stomach. “And I love you,” he said, resting his head on her lap.

She threaded her fingers through his hair. “I love you, too.” Everything would work out as long as they always loved each other this much.

“This is incredible,” he said, gazing up at her with an awestruck look in his eyes.

“Yeah, it is.” Their love had made life. Again.

****

Maria reached over to the sink and picked up the pregnancy test. Twice before she had done this, and twice it had ended up being the best thing that had ever happened to her. Miley and Macy were both angels as far as she was concerned. She loved them more than anything in the world; and if she had another baby, she’d love her, too. Or maybe it’d be a him. Michael really wanted a son. Maybe he should have been here for this. She wasn’t sure why she’d decided to do it alone.

She worked up the courage to look down at the test in her hand, and when she did, she saw the two familiar pink lines. She was pregnant again. Yet again.

She let out a heavy breath, expecting that the nerves would go away now that she knew. But they didn’t. If anything, she got more nervous, because the stress and worry immediately started piling up. Maybe she could get through a semester of student teaching, but what if she couldn’t? If the nausea she’d felt earlier had been any indication, this was going to be another physically arduous pregnancy. How was she supposed to spend eight hours a day standing in front of a class when she felt so crappy? Besides, she had to be a month along already. By the time she finished student teaching, she’d be about five months along. Elementary schools didn’t like teachers to be pregnant, especially private schools like Pidmont. God, Steven had asked her that question about what she would do if he offered her a job. She wouldn’t have to worry about that now, because she wasn’t going to get hired anywhere, not when she’d likely be giving birth in the middle of August, right when school was starting up.

And what about getting married? She and Michael had planned on getting married after she graduated, but she still didn’t want to be pregnant on her wedding day. She already had her dress, and it wasn’t a damn maternity dress. Maybe they were going to need to have a shotgun wedding sometime within the next month.

And then there was money to consider. Sure, they were sitting comfortably in middle class right now, but Michael’s salary was still their only salary. His gallery was doing well, but babies were expensive, and she wasn’t going to be able to get a job anytime soon. What if she never got a job? What if she never graduated? What if the economy took a turn for the worst and suddenly they couldn’t afford another kid? What if she got postpartum depression this time? What if she got breast cancer like her mom someday and didn’t survive it? Then Michael would be a single father of three. What if he didn’t want another baby right now any more than she did, but he just acted happy and excited to make her feel better? What if . . .

“Maria, you home?”

She flinched when she heard Michael walk in the front door downstairs. “Shit,” she swore, shooting to her feet. “Uh . . . yeah,” she called back down. “I’ll be down in a minute.” She stuffed the pregnancy test back in the box and stuffed the directions in their along with it. She slipped the box into the sleeve of her shirt and headed downstairs with her hand behind her back.

“Hey, where were you?” Michael asked right away as he lifted Macy out of her carrier. When he set her down on her feet, she went waddling into the living room to grab her blocks and start playing.

“What? Where was I supposed to be?”

“Didn’t you get my voicemails?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. I didn’t check my phone.” She’d shut her phone off awhile ago, because she hadn’t wanted any interruptions during her pregnancy test.

“Well, I left you about five voicemails telling you to meet me at the daycare.”

“Daycare,” she echoed. “Right. Because we have children.” And they were about to have one more. She slipped past them and headed into the kitchen, still concealing her slightly bulged sleeve. “So what-what happened?”

“You wanna tell her, Miley, or should I?” Michael asked.

“You can tell her.”

“Okay. Miley got in a fight.”

“What?” Maria pulled open the door underneath the kitchen sink and pulled out the trashcan. She inconspicuously dropped the pregnancy test into it while Michael wasn’t looking and pushed it as far down as she could. It would have been easier to dispose of it in the trashcan upstairs in the bathroom, but it was too findable there. The trashcan was too small.

She wasn’t sure why she was hiding it in the first place.

“So did Garret,” Michael added.

“She got in a fight with Garret?”

“No, they got in a fight with two other kids.”

Maria pulled a wad of paper towels off the dispenser and wet them down, pretending to be all interested in scrubbing the counter. “Why?”

“They were mean, Mama,” Miley said quietly.

“What’d they say?” She dropped the towels into the trashcan so that the pregnancy test was completely hidden. She’d empty the trash tonight and there would be no evidence of it.

“It doesn’t matter what they said,” Michael answered for her. “It all ended up with Miley and Garret pushing the kids onto the floor. Pam called all the parents in for a meeting after it happened.”

Maria tore off another line of paper towels and kept scrubbing the counter. Her mind was in overdrive trying to think about two serious situations at once. “Miley, you shouldn’t do that unless someone’s being really mean to you and you feel scared, like you have to defend yourself,” she explained.

“You did it,” Miley pointed out.

“Once,” she admitted, thinking back to the catfight she’d had with Isabel at Max and Liz’s wedding. “And I shouldn’t have.” At least not in front of you, she added on mentally.

“But they said you’re a slut.” Miley pouted.

Maria stopped scrubbing the counter. “They said what?”

“That’s how they were picking on her,” Michael explained. “Their mom was talking bad about you, and they overheard it and . . .” He trailed off.

“Who the hell’s their mom?” she demanded.

“That Abigail what’s-her-name.”

“Oh, no surprise there. She’s hated me ever since college.” She grunted angrily. “And she thinks I’m a slut? Oh, that’s funny, because I’m pretty sure her husband’s dermatologist fathered both her kids.”

“Maria . . .” He gave her a look as if to warn her not to get too upset in front of Miley.

“What’s a slut, Mama?”

“It’s just a derogatory term, honey. Don’t ever say it to anyone.”

Miley frowned and kicked at the floor with her foot. “They said you’re a . . . you’re a slut because you have kids but you’re not married.”

Maria opened her mouth to say something, to shriek and be outraged, but no words came out. Oh my god, she thought. It wasn’t true, but still, considering what she’d just found out . . . she felt horrible.

“Miley, why don’t you go upstairs?” Michael suggested. “I’ll be up in a minute, and we can talk some more about what happened today.”

She sulked upstairs, looking ashamed of herself. She had no reason to feel bad about what happened, though. It wasn’t her fault.

“Great,” Maria muttered, scrubbing furiously at a coffee stain on the counter. “That’s just great. I love that that’s what people think about me.”

“That’s not what people think about you,” Michael said, joining her in the kitchen. “That’s what one person thinks about you, and she doesn’t even matter.”

“Yeah, easy for you to say,” she grumbled.

He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that our daughter got bullied today, I got called a slut, there’s a stain on this counter that won’t come out, and I’m . . .” She trailed off before she just blurted the big news out. This wasn’t the time for it. “Never mind.”

“You’re what?” he pressed. “Stressed?”

“Sure.” She dumped the paper towels into the trashcan, concealing the test even further, and pushed it back under the sink.

“About the interview? How’d that go? You never called me.”

“It could’ve gone better.” There were a few dishes in the sink, so she decided to do them. When she turned on the sink, though, she realized the stopper wasn’t working and all the water was draining right out. Fantastic.

“I’m sure you did fine,” Michael said supportively.

“No, I didn’t. I fucked up the last question.”

“Which was . . .?”

“I don’t even remember. I don’t wanna talk about it.” She shoved the stopper down into the drain as hard as she could and finally got it to plug. Thank God.

“Okay,” he said, wrapping his arms around her midsection. “Well, listen . . .”

She couldn’t listen, not when his hands were right atop her stomach.

“You should just take it easy tonight,” he suggested. “Let me cook dinner and take care of the girls. You just relax. And tonight . . .” His breath tickled her ear when he whispered, “Maybe I can make you feel a whole lot better.”

“I’m not really in the mood,” she told him. “Sorry.”

He seemed a bit surprised as he unwrapped his arms. “Oh. That’s okay. Maybe tomorrow night.”

“I don’t know.”

“A massage then?” he offered, placing his hands on her shoulders.

She squirmed away from him. “Pinched nerve.”

“Pinched nerve.” He didn’t seem to believe it.

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.” He turned and headed for the stairs, looking disappointed.

She groaned, feeling as though she’d hurt his feelings somehow. “Michael.”

He turned back around.

“You can give me a massage if you want to.” She knew he was only trying to make her feel better.

He nodded mutely and headed upstairs.

She turned off the sink and scurried after him, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. “I love you,” she told him.

He turned back around at the top of the stairs and smiled. “I love you, too.” Then he turned and headed into Miley’s room.

Maria sighed heavily, wishing she could just feel good about being pregnant again. She felt guilty for not feeling better.








TBC . . .

-April

For the first time in a long time, I'm actually getting around to responding to feedback!

Ellie:

But ... I have this sickening, dreaded feeling that she's not going to tell him about the baby. And that makes me nervous - because I'm wondering now ... Just what is Maria going to do about this pregnancy?

Oh, I know what you're thinking, and don't worry, I'm not going in that direction. At this point in her life, I feel like it would be really out of character for Maria. So yeah, no need to worry about that. She's not exactly happy, but she's not crazy, either.

Novy:

Parents, they are their kids worst enemy some times. How old is Miley like 3 or 4? Already she's having to deal with crap like that. That's messed up.

Yep, she's 3. Miley's had to deal with some unpleasant stuff already, and she'll have to deal witha lot more by the time this fic is over.

Garret to the rescue it was sweet but I hope he doesn't grow up to fight all the time.

Yeah, the fact that he solved the problem by fighting just goes to show that his parents haven't taught him to problem-solve in a peaceful manner.

BB:

Welcome back. Missed this fic.

Though when you bring the angst like that I kind of think that you should stay away longer.

I haven't even begun to bring the angst yet.

I love the Max and Isabel scenes. Their dynamic is awesome.

Thanks. I've been saying all along that the scenes between them are some of my favorites to write, because I get to be so creepy and diabolical.

They could help each other so much if they weren't such selfish, heartless monsters.

Yeah, they could rule the world if they just worked together. But obviously that'll never happen.

lilah:

Maria,Maria,Maria...don't you know things don't stay secret? Especially in April's world? And why would you want to keep from Michael anyway? He's the best guy in existence! She really can't talk to Tess about it, Isabel would try and kill her, Liz would stare off into space and Kyle would run down the street screaming upon hearing the word "baby" so really her options are limited. I feel bad for Michael, he deserves to know this, it's too big to try and hide and he'll be upset that she was lying by omission.

Maria is going to need some time to process this before she can share the news with Michael. In these next couple of updates, I think you'll see her really struggling with her feelings on this new development and trying to work herself up to the point of telling Michael.

Neve:

Somebody needs to get himself a vasectomy before he starts impregnating random strangers when he passes them in the street.

HA!

I can't see her having an abortion. She didn't when she was pregnant with Miley, alone and thought she couldn't be a mom. This time she's older, experienced and has Michael's love and support. She also has two children already that she loves more than anything in the world, there's no way that she would ever abort another child. Miley and Macy will put a face and a personality on her unborn child for her and I don't think Maria could ever really consider killing it.

Couldn't have said it better myself. Maria's not even going to entertain that option . . . although she still wishes she wasn't pregnant again.

Thanks for the feedback! I appreciate it as much as ever.








Part 76








When Max finally got home at 10:30 that night, he found Liz sitting on the steps outside their trailer, smoking a cigarette. Since when did she smoke? He was about to ask her when she simply said, “Stress,” and took another puff. He hoped she didn’t make a habit out of it, because he really didn’t feel like kissing a human ashtray. Of course, with the way things were going, they weren’t going to be kissing anytime soon.

“You wanna hear about my first day of work?” he asked, sitting down beside her.

She threw the cigarette down on the ground and put it out with the toe of her shoe. “Sure.”

He studied her intently. “No, you don’t.”

“I do,” she insisted.

“What do you really wanna hear, Liz? ‘Cause you told me you cheated on me, and I said that’s okay. Most girls would be relieved; but not you. If anything, you seem even more worried.”

“I’m worried because I don’t know how much longer we can last like this, or if we can even last at all,” she explained, her voice fluttering with emotionality. “You don’t care, Max. I slept with another man, and you don’t even care. Do you really think that little of me nowadays?”

“I care, Liz,” he informed her. “I’m just trying not to. Because every time I care about anything, it goes away. My company, Tiffany . . .” He trailed off and shrugged helplessly. “I have no more energy to care.”

“So . . .” She frowned in confusion. “So it’s like a laziness thing? You’re too lazy to love me?”

“No, I’m too tired to fight with you,” he corrected. “So if you wanna be with him, just go be with him. It doesn’t mean I don’t care; it just means I’m exhausted.”

“By what?”

“By life!” he spat. Every day felt like a struggle nowadays. Most of the time, he wasn’t even sure what he was living for. Garret, probably, and maybe a little bit for her.

“I don’t wanna be with Brandon, Max,” she said. “I wanna be with you. But not this you. I want the Max that set my heart on fire, the Max that thrilled me and made me feel like a more alive version of myself. I want the Max that would’ve absolutely erupted when he found out I cheated.”

“So you want the rapist instead of the robot,” he concluded.

“What?”

“You want me to be like I was back then. You want me to be the guy who lies and cheats and steals and keeps secrets. You want the monster, not the man.”

She shook her head vigorously. “No.”

“That’s messed up, Liz.”

“No,” she repeated emphatically. “That’s not what I want. But you were more passionate back then. You were more driven. That’s what I want. I want this more compassionate, human you with those qualities.”

“And I want a wife who doesn’t cheat on me,” he shot back.

For a moment, she smiled. “You really do care.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“So . . . so did you ever think that maybe that’s how I felt about you and Tiffany, like I shouldn’t care but I do?”

“She’s a kid,” Max pointed out. “That’s completely different.”

“I know, but that’s how it felt sometimes, Max. She became your top priority.”

“She did,” he agreed.

“You worried so much about her and not at all about us. I realize I sound so greedy right now, but it’s just how I feel. And looking back, I understand why I did what I did with Brandon. I felt like . . . God, like I needed something that was just mine, you know? Sort of like how your relationship with Tiffany was just yours.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and asked, “Did it make you feel good?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“But was the sex good?”

She cringed and got up, heading inside the trailer. “Max, don’t.”

He rose to his feet and followed her inside, into the bedroom. “Was he on top or were you?” he kept on.

“Max . . .” She gave him a warning look.

“Did he make you come?”

“Stop it!”

“Once? Twice?”

“This isn’t a discussion!” she yelled. “It happened, and I’m not going into any more detail.”

“Do you know how often I fantasized about fucking Tess again, even after you and I got married?” He clenched his hand into a fist, anger pumping through his veins now. “But I never did. And this is what I get in return.”

She averted his eyes, blinking back tears.

“People got it so wrong,” he said, suddenly resenting her. “They thought I was the bad guy, dragging you down with me. But maybe it was the other way around. Maybe I would’ve been a better person without you.” Even as he said the words, he knew they weren’t true. He would have been a sociopath without her, incapable of feeling any kind of human emotion at all.

“Well, let’s find out,” she suggested, sniffling.

He flinched. As suddenly as he had come to resent her, he loved her again. “Are you saying you want a divorce?” He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to find out who he would be without her. He was already a lesser version of himself without Tiffany.

“No,” she answered calmly. “I want . . . I think we should separate.”

He winced. Somehow it seemed that four months of marriage had all been leading to this.

“Just for awhile,” she said, “just to see how it goes. And then we can decide if there’s anything here worth saving.”

She was going to need to save him after it was all said and done, because he was such a goner. His life was over.

“I’m gonna go stay with my parents for awhile,” she told him.

“I thought they disowned you.”

“No, they disowned us,” she corrected. “I already talked to them about it. All I have to do now is drop out of school, let Tess know, pack up, and go. Unless you can say something really amazing to convince me to stay.”

He opened his mouth, wondering if he’d ever said anything amazing in his life. He didn’t do well under pressure, and this was a pressure-filled situation. Hence the reason why no words came out.

She smiled sadly and reached down under the bed to pull out the same suitcase she’d packed up when it had been time for them to leave their old house. Max just stood in the doorway and watched her pack, wondering if she’d still be there when he woke up or if she’d slip out overnight.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

God, I feel like crap, Maria thought as she trudged downstairs that morning. She hadn’t slept much, and her entire body felt as though it could and would turn on her at any minute. The nausea was usually worst for her during the first trimester.

Michael was already up with Miley and Macy, making them breakfast. “Miley,” he said, “how is it that your mother manages to look stunning first thing in the morning?”

“I don’t know,” Miley answered with a shrug.

Maria rolled her eyes. “You guys don’t have to lie to me. I know I’m rockin’ some major bed-head right now.”

“Well, just a little bit,” Michael admitted. “You want some breakfast?”

“Oh . . .” She sat down across from Miley, examining the contents of the frying pan.

“Scrambled eggs and bacon,” he said, flipping the eggs around with a spatula.

The smells of those two particular foods always did her in when she was pregnant. “Sure,” she replied, not sure how she was going to force the stuff down.

He first put together a plate for Miley and Macy, then set one down in front of Maria. “There you go.”

“Thanks.” It would have been a great breakfast had she not been expecting. When she was pregnant, the entire family had to go on a fruit and cereal breakfast diet because the aromas of just about anything else early in the morning made her stomach spin.

“What’s wrong, Mama?” Miley asked.

She realized she’d been making grossed out faces and holding her hand over her mouth and nose, so she quickly quit and lied, “Nothing. You know, on second thought, I’m not very hungry. I’m just gonna give this plate to Frank, ‘cause it looks like you made a lot.”

“You sure you don’t want any?” Michael asked as he put together a plate for himself.

“Yeah, I’ll just have a granola bar on the way to school.” She set the plate down on the floor, and Frank immediately ran to it and started pigging out.

“Suit yourself.” Michael sat down in between the girls and noted Macy’s progress on her breakfast impressively. “Whoa, somebody’s chowing down.”

“She’s really starting to do well on solid foods,” Maria remarked.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “You like eggs, don’t you, Macy?”

“Dada,” she cooed.

“Yeah, I’m your Dada.”

You’re gonna be someone else’s Dada, too, Maria thought, wondering if now was the right moment to tell him. He and Miley could find out together since they were both there. She opened her mouth to say something, but the moment she did so, the nausea hit full-force. “I have to go pee,” she blurted hastily, scurrying back upstairs. She got to the bathroom just in time to let it all out. There had been a time when she’d only thrown up as the result of a drinking binge. Not anymore.

She flushed the toilet and sat down on the bathroom floor once she was done, wishing she could just crawl back in bed for the rest of the day. She could already tell that this was going to be another demanding pregnancy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The unit plan was due at the start of methods class. Maria was so happy to be done with it, especially since she’d ended up doing about sixty-five percent of the work by herself. The unit plan served as their final exam, so after class, Maria said goodbye to Lucinda. Lucinda said things like, “I’m so happy we had this class together,” and “Have a great Christmas,” and “See you next semester at Pidmont.” Maria just smiled and nodded in response to the last one, because she highly doubted that school was going to want her as a student teacher. She had another interview lined up at a backup public school, though, where her advisor said they accepted almost any student teachers.

Even though she usually spent her break in between classes at the gallery, Maria decided to go to Marty’s club after her class instead. He was there, just like he always was, cleaning up from the night before. He was pushing a long broom and doing his best impression of the Stomp performers. When he saw her, he stopped what he was doing and said, “Well, well, well, if it isn’t my long-lost sister.”

“Long-lost?” she echoed, feigning offense.

“Yeah, I feel like I hardly get to see you anymore. I’m busy with Jimmy and the club, and you’re busy with kids and school.”

Soon to be even busier, she thought. “Well, tomorrow’s my last final, and them I’m on break.”

He set the broom back in the storage room. “I bet you’re looking forward to that.”

“Yep. I got a lot to look forward to.” Including about eight more months of pregnancy. She sat down on the stage and asked, “Is it karaoke night tonight?”

“Yes!” Marty exclaimed excitedly. “Jimmy and I are gonna do a duet of ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy.’”

“Classic.”

“Hey, you and Michael should stop by and sing something.”

Normally she loved karaoke, but karaoke required enthusiasm, and she didn’t feel particularly enthusiastic at the moment. “Oh, maybe some other night.”

“Some other night?” He frowned confusedly. “Why not tonight?”

“I just have a . . . thing.”

“A sex thing?” He grinned.

“Hardly.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s natural; it’s healthy.”

“It’s reproductive,” she mumbled.

“Well, yeah, if you’re heterosexual.”

She wrung her hands together and debated whether or not she should tell him. Normally Tess would have been the first person she would tell, but not this time. Marty would probably be the easiest person to tell.

“Marty?” she said quietly. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“Sure.” He went behind the bar and poured himself a drink, hesitantly asking, “Is it something bad?”

“No, it’s just . . . redundant at this point.” If she had a dollar for every time she’d told someone she was pregnant, she’d be one rich woman.

“What’s up?” he asked, approaching her.

“You might wanna sit down.”

“Oh, no,” he groaned, sitting down beside her on the stage. “Maria?”

She licked her lips and blurted, “I’m pregnant.”

He immediately shot back up to his feet. “Ohmygod, are you serious?” he exclaimed, his words blending together in his excitement.

“As a heart attack.”

“Shut the front door! Seriously?”

She nodded.

“Oh my god, this is so awesome!” He dropped his drink on the floor and threw his arms around her, hugging her. “Congratulations!” He did a dizzy little dance and said, “I think I just peed my pants. Oh my god. But wait a minute, why are you not peeing?”

“I peed this morning.”

“No, I mean, why are you not, like, excited?” he clarified.

“I am excited,” she insisted.

He gave her a look.

“Okay, maybe not as excited as you are,” she acknowledged, “but still . . .”

“No, you’re not excited at all.” He pouted. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just . . .” She hadn’t intended to delve into all her insecurities, but maybe it would feel good to get her concerns off her chest. “Macy’s not even a year old yet, and I’ve already got another on the way? It wasn’t supposed to happen so soon.”

“Honey, I hate to be the one to point this out, but both your kids are proof that you can’t plan this kind of thing.”

“I know, but I wish I could, because I would’ve planned it a year or two down the road. Actually, I probably would’ve embraced abstinence for awhile.”

“Bitch, please,” he said in a high-pitched voice.

“Did you just ‘bitch, please’ me?”

“I did indeed. That means you can’t lie to me from this point onward.”

She sighed heavily. “Okay, the truth is, I never would’ve been abstinent. But I definitely would’ve been more conscious of protection.”

“Yeah, how’d this happen anyway? I thought you two were being way careful.”

“We were . . . for the most part.”

Marty chuckled. “Oh, here we go.”

“It was only one time! We were in the shower, and all logical thought kinda went out the window. We didn’t realize he wasn’t wearing one until it was too late. But still . . . I haven’t missed the pill since Miley was born. It’s supposed to be, like, super effective. Why isn’t it effective for me?”

He shrugged. “You’re just a fertile girl. And Michael’s sperm are . . . determined. Put you two together and babies are bound to get made.”

“I just feel like a horrible person for not feeling overjoyed right now,” she explained. “Why do I feel that way? Should I feel that way?”

“Of course not,” he replied, sitting back own. “This is just throwing you for a loop. You need a little time to adjust. That’s all.”

“But what if I don’t adjust?”

“You will,” he assured her. “Your life was a lot crappier when you found out you were pregnant with Miley, and even then you made it work.”

“Yeah.” She curled her legs up underneath her thought back to almost four years ago. The late period was what had alerted her to her first pregnancy, coupled with, of course, the nausea. “I remember when I was thinking about getting an abortion,” she said, nearly choking on the word, “and you looked right at me and said, ‘Do you know what I would give to have a child with someone I love?’ I’ve thought about that every day since. It just hardly seems fair, you know? I can get pregnant three times in four years, but you . . .” She trailed off. “It’s just not fair.”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed. “Luckily I’m a kickass uncle.”

“Yeah, you are.” She smiled at him, grateful for his support. If it hadn’t been for him, Kyle, Tess, and obviously Michael, the motherhood thing never would have worked out for her.

“So who else knows?” Marty asked.

“Nobody.”

“Shut up, I’m the first to know?” He squealed with delight. “Oh my god, I feel so special. But wait, why . . . why am I the first to know? Why isn’t Michael . . . you haven’t told him yet?”

She shook her head.

“Why not?”

She shrugged cluelessly. “I don’t know. I could’ve . . . but I didn’t. And to be honest, I don’t know when I’m going to.”

“Well, how far along are you? ‘Cause I hate to break it to you, sister, but you start showing at two and a half months.”

“Well, let’s see,” she said, pretending to do the math in her head. “Shower sex was . . . and then carry the one . . . oh, about a month.”

“Then you still have plenty of time to tell him. Although you should tell him soon. He’s gonna be so happy.”

“Yeah, he is.” Michael was the guy who had wanted eight kids before she’d talked him down. This was going to be great news for him. “I think I’m gonna tell Kyle first, though. And then Mom. Work my way up, you know.”

“What about Tess?”

She groaned, dreading the thought. “She’s in a dark place, Marty. Literally. How do I go about telling her I’m pregnant when she’s been trying to have a baby for the past four months?”

Marty exhaled heavily. “I have no idea,” he admitted. “I think she’ll be happy for you, though.”

Maria shook her head. “I’m not so sure.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Now, if your attacker comes up behind you, there’s a simple but effective maneuver you can do to repel him.”

Tess stood in the middle of a line of women who had been attacked. They were all taking part in a self-defense class at the YMCA. Tess had read about it in the paper and decided at last minute to participate, but now that she was here, she wasn’t even so sure if it was a good idea. These women all seemed so determined to not be bothered by whatever had happened to them. Why wasn’t anyone just mad?

“We call this one G-Squared because you’ll hit him first in his gut and then in his groin,” the instructor, Sheila, a self-admitted ex-abused and battered wife, explained. “First, you’ll jab your elbow backward into his stomach. This should catch him off guard and give you a chance to escape.” She demonstrated, and all the women in the class mimicked the maneuver. Tess half-heartedly followed along. What if the attacker didn’t come at you from behind, though? Her attacker hadn’t come at her from behind.

“You’ll want to clasp your hand over your fist to add emphasis to the hit,” Sheila advised, demonstrating, “and it’s best to bend your knees to give it a little more power.”

Do I even have any power? Tess wondered. Would this really do any good?

“Then, if you’re able, spin around and bring your knee straight up. You should be able to knee him right in the groin, depending on his height. But for the average male, it’ll make an impact and disable him long enough for you to get away. Just make sure you don’t hold back.”

The women spent a minute or so practicing the motions of the maneuver, and then the instructor asked, “Who wants to give it a try first?” Nobody volunteered, so she said, “Tess?”

Tess resigned herself to being the guinea pig and stepped up on the safety mat, assuming the stance.

“Okay, there you go,” Sheila said encouragingly. “Richard’s going to approach you. Don’t be alarmed.”

Richard, a man dressed in a full-body puffy dummy suit waved and smiled, then charged her.

“Elbow!” Sheila shouted.

Tess elbowed his guy, then spun around and kneed him in the groin before Sheila could even shout “Knee!” Richard stumbled backward, and everyone clapped for her.

“Very good, Tess,” the instructor praised. “You acted swiftly and effectively. Now he’s the victim.”

Tess flapped her arms against her sides, still feeling helpless. “But what good is this gonna do? I mean really. Yeah, it works in here, because none of this is real. We’re not really facing an attacker; we’re not really fighting for our lives. We’re just going through the motions. But out there in the real world, I’m not gonna be thinking about G-Squared if and when it happens again. I’m not gonna be expecting it like I am here.”

The other women stared at her in astonishment.

“It’s gonna happen again,” she predicted dismally, “and I won’t be able to stop it, because he’ll be bigger and stronger and meaner. That’s just the way it is.”

“You will be able to stop it,” Sheila insisted, “as long as you keep practicing.”

“No, this is pointless,” Tess decided. The whole class was probably just a way for Sheila and Richard to make a profit. They didn’t really care what happened to her. “There’s gotta be a better way of defending myself.” She grabbed her purse and stormed out of the building, furious with herself for wasting an hour of her time on that. It just wasn’t efficient. There had to be something efficient.

And in that moment, it was as though all of a sudden the curtains pulled back and she saw exactly what she wanted to see in front of her. Across the street was a gun store. Perfect. She should have thought of that earlier.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Max stayed in bed until 12:30, just staring at the ceiling. He’d pretended to be asleep that morning while Liz left. She’d slipped out of bed, cried a little, and left without a word. Just like that. How could a five-year relationship just end without a word? But technically it wasn’t an ending; it was a separation. Big fucking difference.

When the door to his trailer opened, he got his hopes up, thinking that maybe Liz was back. But of course she wasn’t. It was just Alex, so he went back to staring at the ceiling.

“I heard,” Alex said, standing in the doorway. “I’m sorry, man. I tried to warn you.”

Max knew now he should’ve listened. Hell, Liz herself had tried to warn him. She’d told him she was attracted to another guy. He’d just been so preoccupied with Tiffany. At the same time, he didn’t regret making Tiffany such a priority, even at the expense of his marriage.

“She stopped by on her way to the airport this morning,” Alex said.

“Airport?”

“Yeah, her parents moved to Missouri last spring, so she’s gotta fly home. Don’t you remember?”

Max couldn’t believe he’d forgotten something like that. “No.” He really hadn’t made her a priority at all.

“Well, she wanted to say goodbye to me and Garret. At least it sounds like she’s coming back, though.”

“There won’t be anything for her to come back for,” Max mumbled.

“There’s you.”

“I won’t be here.”

Alex stared at him in confusion.

He swallowed hard. “Last night I dreamt I jumped off a bridge. My dad used to take me to that bridge . . .”

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Alex interjected. “Are you talking about killing yourself?”

“Maybe.”

“Max . . .” Alex’s eyes widened in panicked. “Okay, maybe it’s time you go seek professional help.”

“Only if you come with me.”

“What? But I don’t . . . I quit drinking. I don’t need any help,” Alex stuttered.

“Sure you do. You’re falling for Isabel’s same old tricks, and that’s crazy.” He laughed angrily. “Man, you should’ve seen the way she was looking at Michael yesterday. He was in his gallery, she was in the video store, but her mind was obviously in the gutter. She’s never gonna look at you that way and you know it. So don’t be a chump, Alex. Face the facts.”

“Okay, you need to get up.” His brother-in-law came into the bedroom and yanked on his arm, pulling him up into a sitting position. “Go take a shower. I’ll fix you some lunch.”

“No, I’m not hungry,” Max grumbled.

“You need to eat something.”

Max snorted, refusing to get out of bed. “The tables have really turned, huh? Usually you’re the one incapacitated by your love life and I’m the one helping you out.”

Alex grabbed his legs one at a time and pulled them over the side of the bed.

“She’s not coming back, is she?” he whimpered, feeling like a lost puppy. “Last time she did this, she came back, but this isn’t last time. Things are worse now.”

“She’ll come back,” Alex assured him. “Come on, Max, pull yourself together.”

“You of all people should understand,” he said accusingly, not feeling the sympathy he longed for. “I have nothing.”

“You have Garret,” Alex reminded him. “He still wishes you were his dad instead of me. Last night, he said he wanted to go to the zoo with you again because, when you guys went this summer, it was the best day of his life. He pretty much thinks you’re the coolest person on the planet.”

Max nodded slowly. Garret. Thank God for Garret. “The zoo, huh?” he said.

Alex nodded.

“I could take him to the zoo.”

“Go take a shower first.”

Max finally got to his feet and sulked into the bathroom.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maria went to the gallery instead of going to multicultural education that day. Kyle came out of his office as she was walking in and sang, “Maria, Maria,” in his best Santana impersonation voice. “Michael isn’t here.”

“He isn’t? Good.”

“Good?” He wrinkled his forehead, perplexed. “Aren’t you here for a nooner or something? Or . . . wait a minute. You’re not here for a nooner with me, are you?”

She made a disgusted face. “God, no.”

“Well, I had to ask. Couldn’t blame you if you wanted to. I’m a very attractive man.”

She rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. “You’re a freak. A freak in a good mood, though. I hope that means Tess is doing better.”

He shook his head disappointedly. “She’s not. I’m just forcing myself to be in a good mood so I don’t join Tess in her depression.”

“Solid plan.” Maria hopped up on the counter and took her granola bar out of her purse, finally hungry enough for lunch. “So where is Michael?”

“He went to get some food. He should be back in a few minutes,” Kyle replied. “Mind if I ask why you’re here? Don’t you usually have class right now?”

“Yeah, multicultural education, but I’m skipping because all we’re doing is reviewing for tomorrow’s final.”

“Well, that hardly sounds important,” Kyle said sarcastically.

“Shut up. I’ve got a lot of other stuff on my mind.”

Kyle hopped up on beside her on the counter. “Like what?” he asked, stealing her granola bar away from her.

She immediately seized it back. “Okay, if I tell you something, you have to promise—like swear. Swear on your life, Tess’s life, and Frank’s life.”

“Oh, Frankie?”

“Yes. Swear you won’t tell anyone, especially not Tess and Michael, what I’m about to tell you.”

“Oh, this doesn’t sound good,” he said fearfully. “I don’t think my marriage can handle any more secrets.”

“Do you swear, though?”

“I guess.”

She gave him an impatient look.

“Alright, I swear. What’s going on?”

“Oh, same-old, same-old. I got called a slut, Miley and Garret got in trouble together, and I’m totally knocked up.”

His eyes bulged. “Wait, what? Wow. Wait, say that last part again.”

“I’m pregnant, Kyle.”

“Holy . . .” He smiled. “Maria. That’s awesome. I don’t even know why I’m surprised, though. Seems like you tell me that every other day.”

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?” she agreed. “God, and I can tell this one’s gonna be a rough one. The morning sickness is already full-force.”

“Well, congratulations. On the baby, not the puking.”

“Thanks.” She tended to forget that this really was a congratulatory thing.

“So Michael doesn’t know yet, huh?”

“Nope. Only you and Marty do.”

“Are you gonna surprise him or something?”

“I don’t know. When I tell Michael, it’s gonna seem real. I mean, it already seems real, but then it’ll seem really real.”

“He’s gonna be really happy,” Kyle pointed out.

“Yeah, that’s what Marty said.” If only she could equal that happiness. “Is it okay that I told you? I’m not trying to be insensitive.”

“Insensitive to what?”

“Well, you and Tess were . . .” She trailed off.

“Oh, yeah, that mess of a situation. No, it’s fine. I’m glad you told me,” he said. “I’m really happy for you, Maria. For you and Michael.”

“Thanks.”

He cleared his throat and said, “This does beg the question, though, how are you gonna tell Tess?”

“I have no clue. I was kinda hoping you could give me some pointers. ‘Cause I don’t wanna seem like I’m rubbing it in her face, you know?”

“Yeah. Well, she might be a little envious, but she’ll be excited to be an aunt again. For the third time.” He laughed. “Man, super sperm.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll just wait a few more days to tell her. Or maybe I’ll tell everybody at Christmas. Or should I tell Michael before then? Should it be a private thing?”

“Uh, you’re asking the wrong guy. This is your area of expertise,” he pointed out.

“Hmm. Maybe I can tell him on Christmas Eve.”

“It’s quite the present,” Kyle said just as Michael walked in the door carrying a box of pizza. “Hey, padre.”

“Padre?” Michael echoed. “Since when do you call me padre?”

Kyle shrugged. “Since now.”

“Whatever.” He set the pizza down on the counter and leaned in to give Maria a quick kiss. “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, you know, skipping class.”

“Want some pizza?” He opened the lid of the box, and greasy cheese pizza gleamed at her.

“Oh . . .” The morning’s nausea hadn’t quite passed yet. She made a face.

“First the eggs, now this,” he said. “I’m beginning to think you hate my taste in food.”

“No, it’s just the grease that grosses me out,” she lied. So not true. She loved greasy pizza. “I saw this documentary a couple weeks ago. I can’t do that to my arteries anymore.”

“Okay,” he said with a shrug. “More for us then.”

While Michael got his pizza, Kyle leaned over and whispered to Maria, “Maybe you should have a slice, you know, if you’re eating for two.”

“Kyle,” she hissed, glaring at him warningly.

He cowered and scooted away.








TBC . . .

-April

First off, thank you to anyone who nominated the 521/522 universe for Part A of the fanfic awards here at RF. I've been nominated for:

Supporting Portrayal of Max
Supporting Portrayal of Liz
Supporting Portrayal of Alex
Supporting Portrayal of Isabel

^ all truly shocking considering how despicable and hate-able these characters are!

Favorite Portrayal of a Child (Miley)
Favorite Original Character (Tiffany)
and Best Alternate Portrayal of a Canon Character (Isabel)

Characterization has been quite a fun ride with these stories, and I feel like both 521 and 522 have helped me grow a lot as a character writer; so I really appreciate the recognition.

In other news . . . responses to feedback:

BB:

I did think that there was a chance Maria would consider terminating the pregnancy though I never believed that she'd actually go through with it. But I think that she's slowly coming to terms with it, after talking to Marty and Kyle. Who I adore for their reactions, by the way. They were great.

I agree, I think talking to Marty and Kyle helped, and now that she's got it off her chest, she's can gradually come to terms with it.

Guns freak me out. I live in a country where even the police aren't armed so the thought of buying a gun is absolutely alien to me. And I really don't like the idea of somebody that depressed being able to buy one. That is crazy.

Yeah, guns freak me out, too. I just found out yesterday that, in Nebraska, there is currently some legislation on the table that may allow teachers to carry concealed weapons. I think people are considering it now because of a recent school shooting that happened. But I think it sounds crazy, and as a teacher myself now, I would never carry a gun in school. Anyway.

Ellie:

Ok ... once again, I'm all alone in my never ending desire to see Max and Liz miserable and loving each and every single glorious moment of it. That's cool ... I can deal

No, you're not alone in that desire. Hell, I'm writing the story and part of me is loving their misery, too.

please stop putting it off Maria! She's had a few golden opportunties to tell him, and she's just let them pass. I'm not liking that, it feels deceitful in a way.

Hmm, like lying by omission, maybe?

Novy:

Guess who was my favourite part of that? Marty!!!

Of course! Marty brings the comedy.

I see so many horrible scenarios. What if Miley finds it or Garret or what if Maria gets shot some how while she's pregnant. I don't wanna know what could happen.

Thanks for giving me ideas! No, I've already got this written out pretty far in advance, so it's not like any scenarios you present are going to change the direction of the entire fic.

Maybe Billy might get shot. Now there's a great idea.

Ah, looking at the glass half full instead of half empty. I like it. Too bad he fled to another state, though.

Leila:

What is it with your characters not talking and solve their problems???

Maybe it's one of the themes for the fic, that communication is key?

Congrats on your noms. Feel groped and touched everywhere.

Oh, I do. I always do with you, Leila.

Thanks for the feedback! On we go!








Part 77








Isabel hated being domestic. Cooking and cleaning and laundry and all that “female” stuff . . . she hated it. But she did it because it was a good way of keeping peace in the household. Besides, Alex didn’t really know how.

She had just finished putting the laundry away that evening and was ready to give Garret his bath when she decided to sit down in front of the computer and see what Billy was up to out in Los Angeles. She knew she shouldn’t give a rat’s ass, but she couldn’t help it. Curiosity got the best of her, and she went to his Twitter page. She was shocked to read one of his Tweets proclaiming that he had just scored a record deal.

Holy crap, she thought. Little more than a year ago, she’d met him out on a street corner singing his ‘Maria’ song and collecting change in his guitar case. Now he had signed with a label called Spinsational Records within a matter of a week in L.A. He was actually going to be successful. The drug-addicted rapist was going to be successful. Women everywhere were probably going to end up drooling over him.

She followed a link to his Youtube channel and saw that he had uploaded two new videos in addition to the Radiohead covers he’d had up for awhile. One was an acoustic cover of a song called “Evil Angel” by Breaking Benjamin. The other was his own song, the ‘Isabel’ song. Her heart rate sped up when she heard him singing it. She almost felt as though she could reach through her computer screen and touch him. She wished she could.

The video description he’d posted for the song said that ‘Isabel’ would be his first single. His first single? If he made it big, she was probably going to hear that song on the radio all the time. How was she supposed to deal with that?

The video already had over ten-thousand views and over five-hundred comments. Some of the people who left comments wrote things like, ‘You’re gonna be a superstar’ and ‘Can’t wait for your album,’ and ‘Isabel sounds like a great girl.’

Isabel just stared at the screen in astonishment. How was all this happening for him? She wanted to call him up and ask him about it, but she couldn’t.

“Isabel?” Alex called from downstairs right as Youtube Billy sang her name. She quickly deleted the browsing history and shut down the computer.

“Hey,” she said on her way down the stairs. “How’d your finals go?”

“Pretty good,” he answered. “I only had one. You know, next semester, I think I’m gonna get a part-time job.”

“Really?” That would help out financially.

“Yeah, I feel strangely motivated. I’m kind of eyeing this job at the campus bookstore. The only problem is, it’s during the day. And you work at night, so we’d hardly see each other.”

“Oh.” Boo-hoo.

He wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. “I guess we’ll just have to make what time we do have count.”

“Hmm.” She so had him under her spell again.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She wished she could get that damn song out of her head.

“Well, I’ll tell you who’s not okay,” he said, heading into the kitchen. “Your brother.” He reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a soda, a stark contrast to the alcohol that had wasted him away for years. “I went to see him this afternoon to find out how he’s dealing with, you know, things. And he’s not doing so well. He’s in a pretty bad place right now.”

“Serves him right,” Isabel muttered. She didn’t feel sorry for her brother one bit. The fact that Liz had left for Missouri was a glorious blessing as far as she was concerned. The bitch just took up space.

“I actually felt kind of bad for him,” Alex admitted, taking a swig of his soda.

“So you two are friends again?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe. He may not be perfect, but I don’t wanna see him become suicidal, you know? That would devastate Garret. And I’d feel pretty bad about it, too.”

“Did he dream about a bridge?” Isabel asked.

“Yeah, how’d you--”

“I’ve dreamt about bridges, too.” In fact, just the other night, she’d had that kind of dream. “I’m kinda tired,” she announced. “I think I’m gonna go to bed early tonight.”

“Okay, sure,” he said. “I’ll get Garret his dinner.”

“He needs his bath, too.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Responsible Alex was such a strange sight to see that she had to say, “Goodnight,” right then and there and head upstairs. She crawled into bed, making sure to stay on her side. Because since she and her husband were now sharing a bed again, she only had half of it.

Garret came into the bedroom a few minutes later, quietly squeaking out, “Mommy?”

“Hi, sweetie,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” he said. “You gotta work?”

“Not tonight. Come here, let’s hang out.” She patted Alex’s side of the bed, and he climbed up and cuddled beside her. “What’s on your mind?” she asked.

“Nothin’,” he repeated.

“Nothin’, huh?”

“Well . . . what’s it mean if I like a girl?”

“A girl?” she echoed. “Who, Miley?”

He blushed.

“Well, that depends,” she said. “How much do you like her?”

“I dunno. Lots.”

“Then that means you’ll be in each other’s lives for a long time to come. You’ll always be there for each other. And who knows? Maybe someday you’ll marry her and have kids of your own.” That’s what she was hoping for.

“That’s gross, Mommy,” Garret said. “Girls have cooties.”

“Oh, do they?”

“Yeah. But I like Miley anyway. She’s my friend.” He reached up and touched her hair, pulling on it gently. “Do you have any friends, Mommy?”

She glanced over at the computer. Billy’s voice filtered through her head again. “I have you,” she told him, holding him tightly in her arms.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maria was pulling back the bedcovers when she felt Michael’s arms coil around her midsection. “Massage time,” he whispered in her ear.

She glanced down at his hands atop her stomach, envisioning her stomach getting bigger and bigger. “Is Miley asleep?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“Macy?”

“Oh, yeah.” He pushed his weight forward, urging her up onto the bed on her knees. While he was still behind her, he smoothed his hands down her sides and lifted her shirt over her head.

“Mmm, I love your hands,” she murmured, worried that she hadn’t been affectionate enough with him these past couple of days.

“I love your everything,” he returned, eliciting a giggle out of her. Her breath caught when she suddenly felt him unclasp her bra and her breasts fell free. He smoothed his hands around her chest to cup them and knead them, causing her nipples to harden.

“What kind of massage is this?” she asked, leaning back against him.

“Frontal,” he replied. “Okay, lie down. I’ll get your back.”

She first kicked off her shorts and her panties, then lay down on her stomach, pillowing her head with her arms. He splayed his hands against her butt and started massaging.

“Hey, that’s not my back,” she said.

“It’s on the back of you.”

She grinned, feeling the best she had since she’d found out she was pregnant. “You’re awfully mischievous tonight.”

“Alright, I’ll behave.” He got off the bed, removed his shirt apparently just for the heck of it, and then opened their nightstand drawer.

“Whatcha lookin’ for?” she asked as he rummaged around.

“Massage oil.” He pulled out a tube of lube and said, “Oops, that’s not it.”

She smiled. “You’re so cute.”

He put the lube back and found the massage oil instead. “I know, aren’t I?” He climbed back on top of her, careful not to sit down so that he wouldn’t crush her with his weight. “Lay your head back down.”

She did as he instructed and took a few calming breaths. She could tell that this was going to get erotic, and there was no telling where erotic would lead.

He spread some oil on his hands and started rubbing her back, using all his fingers to alleviate the tension.

“You’re good at this,” she told him.

“Yeah, I like to think I was a chiropractor in a former life.”

“Bet you weren’t,” she teased. “I bet you were a squirrel.”

“A squirrel?” he echoed, feigning offense.

“But a cute one.”

“Well, what were you?”

“I was a squirrel, too.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.”

He chuckled. “So did we meet, fall in love, and have squirrel babies?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she said. “Lots of them.”

“Cool. What the hell are we talkin’ about?”

She laughed. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, just checkin’.” He trailed his hands lower and made small circles with his thumbs in the small of her back. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, changing the topic.

“Stop it, you’re making me blush.” She loved that he could still make her blush.

“I mean it.” His hands roamed upward again, all the way to her shoulder blades, and his fingers brushed lightly against the sides of her breasts. “I think I really want you right now,” he said.

“You think?”

He bent down and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

She slowly turned over onto her back, gazing up at him. “Then go ahead and have me.”

His eyes gleamed with excitement. “Are you sure? Last night you weren’t ‘in the mood.’”

“Fluke thing.”

“Oh, I see.” He trailed one oily hand down between her breasts, across her stomach, and stopped right below her waist. “I’d better make sure we have condoms,” he said, scooting over to the side of the bed.

“Right,” she said, staring at his bare back as he opened the nightstand drawer again. “Wouldn’t wanna do it without one of those.”

He held up three of them and smiled excitedly. She smiled back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was surprisingly easy to purchase a gun. No wonder kids were able to shoot up Columbine and Virginia Tech and all those other places. Gun laws were way too loose. All Tess had to do was walk into the store, ask which kind would be the best for self-defense, purchase it along with its corresponding bullets, and be on her merry way.

She thought about storing it in her underwear drawer, but Kyle sometimes liked to snoop in that drawer, so she decided to keep it in her purse instead. That way, wherever she was, she would have it with her. She felt way more confident in her gun than in that stupid G-Squared defense technique.

“Hey, Tess?”

She zipped her purse up right as Kyle came into the bedroom. She was going to have to be super careful and make sure he never saw the gun.

“Will you come downstairs for a minute?” he asked. “I got you a gift.”

She mutely followed him downstairs, hoping and praying he hadn’t set up some romantic evening. She wasn’t ready for that again yet. Maybe she never would be.

“I really hope you like it,” he said. “Or him, more precisely. Ta-da!”

She stepped down off the bottom stair, and a fluffy golden Pomeranian ran up to her, sniffing her leg. “A puppy?” she said, pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah.”

“You got me a puppy?”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s actually about a year old. His name’s George. They were gonna put him to sleep at the animal shelter next week unless someone bought him, so . . . here he is.”

Tess bent down and patted George on the head. He craned his head back and tried to lick her wrist.

“I think he likes you,” Kyle noted. “I don’t know if you wanted a Pomeranian or not, but I hope we can keep him. Lord knows he’s not the most masculine dog out there, but . . . I like him a lot.”

“I like him, too.” She scratched him behind the ears, and he stuck his tongue out and panted. “Hi, George.”

“How could anyone put him to sleep? Look at that little face.”

“He’s adorable,” she agreed. He wasn’t as fluffy as most Pomeranians, and his face wasn’t as smooshed in. “You don’t have to think of him as a substitute kid, though, Kyle. I don’t even want kids anymore.”

“Well, I don’t really believe that,” he said slowly, “but I know he’s not a kid. He’s a dog. But still, he’s part of the family now.”

“Yeah, he is.” George lay down and on his side and stuck his legs out so that she could scratch his belly. “He makes me feel better,” she said.

“About what?”

She wasn’t about to launch into the details of her rape, so she just said, “Everything,” and left it at that.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Kyle brought his new dog over to meet Frank the next morning. Michael wasn’t surprised that they got along well. Frank liked everybody—dogs, humans, even cats. George had a lot more energy than Frank did, though, since he was younger and not so overweight. Frank was trying to act like a puppy again around him, though.

“Is he potty-trained?” Michael asked. They were sitting on the living room floor and both dogs were running in circles around them, chasing each other.

“The lady at the shelter said he was partially trained,” Kyle replied.

“What’s that mean?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out.” Kyle shrugged and laughed as Frank caught up to George and started sniffing his butt. “I think Frank’s gay.”

“My dog is not gay.” Michael pulled Frank away from his new friend. “He’s just sniffing another dog’s butt . . . the way dogs do.”

“Aw, poor Frank,” Kyle teased. “Fat and gay. Society’s never gonna accept you.”

“What about George? He’s peeing on my end table.”

“What?”

“He’s peeing.”

“George!” Kyle scolded, lifting him up a minute too late. “Sorry.”

“Well, now we know what ‘partially trained’ means.” Maria came downstairs a moment later, looking deep in thought about something. “Hey, what’re you doing?” he asked her. Miley was upstairs playing with Garret, and Macy was trying to play with them, too.

“I was just looking at the nursery,” she answered. “What’re we gonna do when we have another baby? Do we even have enough room in this house?”

“Sure. We’ll move Macy in with Miley and then the nursery’s free. Or we could always convert my art room into a double bedroom. That’d be a cool bedroom. Yeah, we’ve got plenty of space.” He wasn’t worried about it. “Besides, I’m thinkin’ about building a two-story shed in the backyard, storage on the bottom level, bedroom on the upper level. You know, for when Miley gets older. She can have her own space.”

“Uh, is that wise?” Kyle interjected. “Considering she’s upstairs playing with a boy right now . . .”

“Oh, good point.” Michael quickly reconsidered. “Ix-nay on the ed-shay.”

Maria sat down on the couch, laughing a little. “How were you gonna build a shed anyway? That requires, like, construction know-how.”

“Well, I’m good with my hands. I’d figure it out.” He grinned, and she blushed.

“Whoa, innuendo!” Kyle exclaimed, handing George to Maria. “He just peed on your end table, by the way.”

“That’s probably gonna eat away at the wood,” Maria said, rolling her eyes. She loved dogs, though, so she didn’t get mad at George about it. “He’s so cute and furry,” she said, rocking him in her arms. “And Tess liked him?”

“Yeah, he actually got her to smile again. Granted, it was a subdued smile, but it’s better than nothing. I’ll take what I can get,” Kyle replied. “Hey, you’re holdin’ him like he’s a baby.”

Maria gave him a sharp, menacing look.

He recoiled a bit. “Just an observation.” He rubbed his hands together and changed the topic. “So Christmas is coming up.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Maria groaned.

“I thought you loved Christmas.”

“She does,” Michael answered for her. “She’s just stressing about Christmas dinner.”

“No, it’ll be great,” Kyle assured her. “Thanksgiving was great.”

“And you’ll have one less mouth to feed since Marty’s boyfriend’s gonna be at home with his family,” Michael pointed out.

“True.” Maria sighed. “It’s still a lot of work, though.”

“I can try to help,” Kyle offered. “I feel kinda bad, ‘cause I know Tess and I were supposed to be the ones hosting the thing, but since she . . .” He trailed off. “We don’t even have a tree up.”

“It’s okay, Kyle,” she said. “If you wanna help, you could get the fudge.”

“Fudge?” he echoed, sounding disappointed that she wasn’t entrusting him with a bigger responsibility.

“Yes. And not nut fudge, just the regular kind. Keep it refrigerated.”

Kyle nodded. “Got it.”

She turned to Michael and said, “And you can wrap all those presents sitting out in the garage. Just don’t overload ‘em with tape like you did last year.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded obediently. “Hey, Maria, do you think Frank’s gay?”

“Of course,” she replied without hesitation.

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Hmm.” He let go of his dog, and he immediately ran towards George and tried to smell his butt again. No wonder he and Marty had always gotten along well.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Isabel stopped by her brother’s place that afternoon, just for the hell of it. She wanted to remind him that he was on schedule at Cockadoodle-Doo that night. Strangely enough, working with him wasn’t half bad, mostly because she got to boss him around and he had to listen to her if he wanted to keep his job.

She let herself inside the trailer and found him in the bathroom. He was lying down in his bathtub, suds thankfully covering all the parts of him she didn’t care to see. She closed the lid of the toilet seat and sat down, waiting for him to say something.

“You know I’m naked under here, right?” he mumbled, sounding about as lively as a corpse.

“Whatever,” she said. “Remember when Mom used to make us take baths together?”

“Yeah. ‘Oh, it saves water,’” he mimicked in a feminine voice. “All it did was scar me for life.”

She rolled her eyes. “You look so pathetic right now.”

“Well, yeah, my wife just left me. Of course I’m pathetic,” he admitted.

“Pull yourself together. We have to work tonight, and I don’t intend on babysitting a cry-baby. I’ve got lots of hard labor lined up for you tonight. Basically you’re gonna be re-alphabetizing and re-shelving the entire BDSM section.”

“Hmm.” He grinned dazedly. “Liz and I used to do BDSM.”

“Ew, too much information.” The thought of Liz cracking a whip on her brother’s behind just about sent her stomach into puke-mode. “I don’t know why you’re so upset. Your wife’s an idiot.”

“So is that guy you’re sleeping with.”

“Billy?”

“Yeah.”

She shivered at the mere mention of him. “I’m not sleeping with him anymore. He left town.”

Max’s eyebrows arched. “And do you miss him?”

She could have lied, but for some reason, she told the truth. “Every day.”

Max grunted. “Then I’m not the only pathetic one.”

The thought of being on Max’s level in any way truly repulsed her, but she had to admit, he had a point. Billy was an idiot just like Liz was, yet she still couldn’t get him out of her head.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dr. Walters was Maria’s doctor. She’d never had a doctor until she’d met him. He’d been filling in for another doctor on her first ultrasound appointment when she’d been pregnant with Macy, and she’d stuck with him ever since. He had the greatest bedside manner Maria had ever seen, for he’d managed to make her laugh even when Macy had been coming out of her vagina. He was only in his forties, but his grey hair made him look older. Regardless of his age, he was quite accomplished, had been given some physician’s award back in July. Even with his newfound notoriety, he was still affordable.

Maria walked into his private clinic that afternoon. She’d told Michael she was going to the mall to do some last-minute Christmas shopping, but what she really wanted was her doctor’s confirmation on how far along she was. It had to just be one month. Right? Although she’d heard stories about women getting false periods even when they were expecting.

Dr. Walters was standing behind the reception desk, talking to one of his receptionists. “Did my 1:30 reschedule?”

The receptionist nodded.

“Okay, then, go ahead and find out if Mrs. Ruiz would like to come in. She’s been having problems with false labor.” When he looked up and saw her, he smiled. “Maria.”

“Hi, Dr. Walters.”

He came out from behind the desk, immediately hugging her. With any other doctor, it might have been intrusive, but with him, it was just friendly. “How have you been?”

“Fine.”

“And how’s the littlest one?” That was the best thing about Dr. Walters, the way he built a genuine relationship with his patients and liked to get updates on the babies he’d delivered.

“She’s good,” Maria told him. “Happy baby.”

“She must be about a year old now, right?”

“She’s a little over ten months.”

“Oh, that’s right, she was a Valentine’s baby.”

“Barely. 11:58 p.m.”

He nodded. “Yep, barely snuck in there. Well, you’ll have to bring her in sometime. I’d love to see her now.”

“Oh, you’ll be seeing her,” Maria assured him. “And Miley, my other daughter. And Michael, my fiancé. And me. Lady parts of me. I’m pregnant again.”

At first he looked surprised, but then he smiled. “Congratulations.”

A few minutes later, she was back in one of the examination rooms, lying on the ultrasound chair.

“Now, I really shouldn’t be doing this without having you make an appointment first,” Dr. Walters said as he turned on all the machines, “but since my 1:30 cancelled and since Mrs. Ruiz is probably in Chicago even though I told her not to fly during her third trimester, I think I can fit you in. Plus, the waiting room’s empty, and you’re my favorite patient.”

“I bet you say that to everyone.”

“Yes,” he admitted, “but I mean it when I say it to you.”

She laughed. “Why? I was so loud and bitchy during my labor.”

“Well, I didn’t say you were the easiest patient; I said you were my favorite. You were the only person last year who sent me a thank-you note for delivering your baby.”

“She weighed tens pounds,” Maria reminded him. “How could I not thank you for getting her out of me?”

Dr. Walters chuckled. “I suppose.”

Maria’s phone rang just as they were about to get started. “My mom,” she said, checking the caller ID. “You can just keep going.” She lifted up her shirt to expose her flat-for-now stomach and answered the call. “Mom, hi.”

“Hi, sweetie,” Amy said cheerily. “Are you officially on Christmas break yet?”

“As of yesterday, yeah.”

“Ooh, only one semester to go. How exciting,” she said. “Well, I was just calling to find out what time you want me and Ed to be there on Christmas day.”

“Um . . .” She hadn’t really thought about it.

“Maria, I’m gonna go ahead and apply the gel,” Dr. Walters told her. “You already know it’s cold, so . . .”

“Who was that?” Amy barked over the phone. “Was that Dr. Walters? Oh, tell him I said hi.”

“He doesn’t even remember you, Mom.”

“Hi, Dr. Walters!” she yelled, loud enough for him to hear.

“Hello, Amy,” he said as he rubbed the gel over her belly. “How have you been?”

“Oh, I got cancer, but then I got better,” she told him, suddenly falling silent. It took her a minute, but eventually she put the pieces of the puzzle together and said to Maria, “But wait, why . . . why are you with Dr. Walters? Are you . . . oh my god, are you pregnant?”

“How about I call you back later, Mom?” Maria suggested.

But Amy was too busy whooping and hollering to hear her. “You are!” she screamed. “Oh my god, you are! Ed! Ed! I’m gonna have another grandbaby! Maria’s pregnant again! Ed!”

Maria held the phone away from her ear, letting her mother’s deafening excitement echo throughout the room. If it was possible, she sounded almost more flamboyant than Marty.

“Oh, Maria, I’m so happy! You’re pregnant! Oh my god! Ed!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Daddy, do you think Santa will like my cookies?” Miley asked as she pressed a Santa-shaped cookie cutter into the floured dough.

“Of course,” Michael assured her as he spread green frosting on an already-baked Christmas tree-shaped cookie. “They’re not all for him, though. We get to eat some, too.”

“Yeah,” she said, picking up a blue-frosted reindeer cookie with multi-colored sprinkles on it, “but this is the Santa cookie.” She then picked up the cookie beside it and added, “And this one’s for Santa’s wife.” It was shaped like a present and was loaded up with white and red frosting and M+Ms.

“Mrs. Claus, huh?” he said right as Maria walked in the front door. “Hey, you were gone for awhile. Where’d you go?”

She froze in place. “To campus, to sell my books back.”

“You said you were going shopping.”

“Right.” She kicked her shoes off on the welcome mat. “I did both.”

He frowned, confused. Where were the shopping bags then?

“I didn’t find anything at the mall,” she said as if she were reading his mind.

“First time for everything.” He squirted yellow frosting onto his Christmas tree cookie, trying to make it look as though it had ornaments and garland on it.

“Such an artist,” Maria teased, joining him and the kids in the kitchen. “Those are really good, you guys.”

“They’ll taste good,” he said, sampling a bit of the dough. “So how much money did you get?”

She tilted her head the side confusedly.

“For your books.”

“Oh, right. You know, just like fifty dollars.”

“That’s all?” She’d spent over four-hundred on them.

“Yeah, less and less every year. They never take back teaching books because there’s always a lot of new teaching books coming out.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“Mama, help us make cookies,” Miley said, handing her the Santa cookie cutter.

“Looks like you guys are doing just fine on your own,” she said, although she spread out the dough and cut her own Santa cookie next to Miley’s.

“The first batch didn’t turn out quite right,” Michael said, motioning to Frank, who was busy chewing on the burnt first batch in his dog bowl. “This one’s better.”

“Mama, can you help me?” Miley asked, trying to lift the cookies out of the dough.

“Here,” Maria said, shoving the excess dough away first. “It works better when you do it like that. How about you decorate while I cut?”

“Okay.” She reached into the chocolate chip bowl and sampled a few of them. “Look at the Santa cookie, Mama.”

“Very nice,” Maria complimented. “He’s gonna love it. Isn’t he, Michael?”

“Oh, yes, he is.” Michael rubbed his stomach. He loved eating the Christmas cookies that Miley set out. She even set out carrots for the reindeer, but he let Frank have those. “Mrs. Claus gets one, too,” he pointed out.

“Really? That’s so considerate,” Maria said, mouthing ‘Yes!’ behind Miley’s back. “We’re gonna have a really good Christmas. Do you think Santa’s gonna get you any presents, Miley?”

“Uh-huh,” she said, nodding emphatically. “Me and Garret made lists.”

“Well, we’d better mail that out today so he gets it in time.” She shot Michael a panicked look, and he understood why. What if there was something new on that list, something they hadn’t already gotten her? This was the first year she was actually expecting to get what she asked for. Last year, she’d been too young.

“Miley, don’t let your dad put red-hots on these cookies,” Maria said, seizing the red-hot bowl away from Michael. “Those are gross.”

“Hey, this is one of my cookies,” he said, taking the bowl back from her. “I can decorate it however I want, and I like things red-hot. That’s why I’m marrying you.”

She smiled. “Very funny.”

“Very true.” He put ten red-hots on his cookie and held it up proudly. “Ta-da.”

“That’s good, Daddy,” Miley said, still eating away at the chocolate chips.

“Oh, look, Macy wants to help,” Maria said, lifting her up off the floor. She balanced her on her hip and said, “You wanna make a cookie, Macy?”

Macy grabbed one of the undecorated baked cookies from the second batch and bit into it.

“She doesn’t wanna help. She wants to eat,” Michael said, laughing at his little girl’s antics.

“Oh, Macy, you sly, sneaky thing,” Maria said. “You get more and more like me every day.”








TBC . . .

-April

I'm planning on going home this weekend (FINALLY!), so I want to get this update out now since I won't be here this weekend. It's a little bit longer than usual. I struggled to find a good place to end it.

lilah:

And he's still using condoms, he'll be happy to ditch those too!

That's right!

Isabel is pathetic!! Your kid is not your friend. Period. Have fun with them, play with them, but remember the are your child and they don't need you as a friend....for Garrett to have THAT as a friend is worse than him having her for a mother....after all he didn't choose her as a mother

And if Isabel thinks she's his friend, she deserves the Worst Friend of the Year award.

OMG I'm first? How did that happen?

I think this is the first time you've been first. Way to go!

Ellie:

So, know Amy knows the baby secret as well. Just how many people are going to find out about this before Michael does, huh?

I don't know, but they're sure starting to add up.

OMG ... Isaho is lonely. How utterly pathetic.

Ha, Isaho. I like it.

BB:

Finally a smile from Tess. But she has a gun in her purse so I don't see that as a real step forward.

One step forward and two steps back. You know that's how I roll.

Michael and Maria and their family are so adorable and cute. Please don't wreck that. Because I'll come over there and by myself a gun and stuff... yadda yadda, meaningless empty threat. I think Maria is coming around, slowly. She just needs a little time to get used to the idea and come to terms with it.

Yeah, Maria's getting used to the idea. She'll want to tell him soon.

I seriously fall in love with Michael more and more with each chapter.

I'm glad.

Novy:

I like this improved Alex. I hope he can keep it up for Garret's sake.

Yeah, Alex is doing pretty good right now. Granted, he's completely and willingly blind to the fact that Isabel is playing him like a fiddle, but at least he's not drinking.

I wonder if Isabel ever had friends. I doubt they would have lasted long if she did.

Maybe she had minions. But I doubt that Isabel ever truly had a friend.

Guel:

i still wait for the bomb -- tess being pregnant and not knowing who the father is. I hope that wont happen it would be too much for her.

Oh, leave it to me to make my readers assume the worst.

wonderful part, cant wait for maria telling michael she's pregnant. when is she gonna do it, he is such a good guy and she keeps that from him.

Maria's working up the courage, so expect her to try to tell him soon.

Neve:

I'm really delighted that Kyle finally got Tess to smile again even if its only for a second. As long as he hangs on in there and keeps trying there's hope for those two but if Kyle gives up then it's over because Tess has already given up.

Yep, right now it's pretty much up to Kyle. And a small smile is better than nothing. It's a glimmer of hope.

Maria seems to be adjusting to the pregnancy now but she needs to tell Michael soon before somebody else lets slip.

Definitely. Finding out from someone else . . . that's not the way Michael wants to find out, and that's not the way Maria wants him to find out, either.



Thanks for the feedback!

It's a doubly musical update for me today. The first song I'll link to will be Creed's "One Last Breath," which you can listen to here or click on when you see it. (I'm actually not a big fan of Creed, but I've always liked this song and it fit with what I was writing.) And also Weezer's cover of "O Holy Night," which you can listen to here or when you see I actually finally finished compiling all the music for this fic and wasted my time making soundtrack covers, which I posted on my author's thread.

Enjoy!








Part 78








“God, what a rush,” Isabel groaned, pushing her cash register closed. And she wasn’t talking about the exciting kind of rush that resulted from snorting a lot of coke, either; she was talking about a rush of people. She’d never had twenty customers in the store at once before. There was only one customer left now, a college nerd who couldn’t seem to decide between Cum-Covered Sluts and Foot-Fucking Fetish.

“See, Ralph was right to hire me,” Max said. “He knew you’d need the extra help.”

“And what fantastic help you were,” she bit out sarcastically before mimicking him in a high-pitched, whiny tone. “‘Isabel, I can’t get this gift card to scan. Help me!’”

“I didn’t sound like that.

“Yeah, you did.” Max may have beat her training record, but he wasn’t as good at the job as she was. “How’s the BDSM section going?”

“Halfway re-shelved.”

“Get it completely re-shelved.” She was about to go tell the college nerd to just rent both movies when the door chimed upon opening. Great, more customers. She spun around and, much to her surprise, saw her husband. “Alex. What’re you doing here?”

“Hi, Mommy!” she heard Garret chirp.

She peered down over the counter. He was in his pajamas and a jacket. “You brought Garret,” she said, lowering her voice to whisper, “to a porn store?”

“We won’t let him see any of the movies,” Alex said, taking his hand. He led him back behind the counter and said, “He wanted to know where you work.”

“Uncle Max!” Garret exclaimed, running over to his inexplicable favorite person in the world.

“Hey, buddy,” Max said, bending down to hug him. “I missed you.”

“You guys don’t look too busy,” Alex remarked, wrapping one arm around Isabel’s waist.

“We just got done with a rush. Some old guy came in and rented twenty movies.” At five dollars and ninety-five cents a piece, that really added up.

“At the rate Max is going, that’s him in three years,” Alex remarked.

Isabel gave him a look but didn’t say anything. Wasn’t that sort of hypocritical of him? He’d been well on his way to being a lonely old geezer who could only get his rocks off by watching porn until she’d decided to sleep with him again just to keep him in his place.

“Where’s Aunt Liz?” Garret asked Max quietly. Max didn’t say anything, so Garret asked something else. “Hey, can we play rock-paper-sciss . . . sciss . . . skissors?”

“Sure,” Max said, holding his fist above his open palm. “Ready?”

Garret nodded, assuming the same pose.

“Rock-paper-scissors,” Max said, waiting a split-second after Garret laid down scissors to lay down paper. “Ah, you got me. Let’s do it again.”

Alex cleared his throat and asked Isabel quietly as they played, “Do you think we should invite Max over to our house for Christmas?”

Isabel contorted her face in disgust. “Do we have to?” Having him and Liz over for Thanksgiving had been bad enough.

“He’d do the same for us,” Alex said, “or for me, at least. Come on, it’d make Garret really happy.”

She supposed it would, and really, Christmas was a Garret holiday. “Max, you’re spending Christmas with us,” she said, phrasing it as an order rather than a question because she didn’t want to get into a long debate about it.

“Okay,” he said.

“Uncle Max, can we go to the zoo again?” Garret asked eagerly. Just how much sugar had Alex fed him for dinner?

“Yeah, when it gets warmer out,” Max replied.

“Cool! Can Aunt Liz come?”

Max’s face fell. “I think . . . I think it’ll just be you and me,” he said. “Is that okay?”

Garret pouted. “Okay.”

Isabel rolled her eyes. Garret and Max were really a lot alike in some ways. For some reason Isabel would never understand, they both liked ‘Aunt Liz’ way more than she deserved to be liked.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

That evening, Kyle tried to cuddle with Tess. He curled up behind her and wrapped his arms around her midsection, thinking she might like the closeness, but she was stiff as a board in his arms.

“I have a stomachache,” she said.

“Oh. Sorry.” He let go of her and moved back over to his side of the bed, lying flat on his back. So much for that. “George looks comfy,” he pointed out. The dog was curled up on the foot of the bed, fast asleep.

“Yeah, he does,” Tess agreed. If nothing else, George gave them something to small-talk about. “So I’m thinking about closing my studio.”

That sure as hell wasn’t small. “What?”

“Yeah. Actually, I’m not just thinking about it. I’m gonna do it.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s probably costing more to keep it open than to close it down and be done with it.”

This was coming out of nowhere. He wasn’t even sure what to say. “What’re you gonna do for work then?”

“I don’t know,” she replied flippantly. “Retail or something.”

“Retail,” he echoed, shocked that they were even having this conversation. “You’re gonna give up on your lifelong career dream of being an interior designer to work retail? That makes no sense.”

“I really just don’t wanna work there anymore,” she said, starting to sound agitated, “so I’d appreciate it if you’d respect my decision and let it go.”

It was hard to respect a decision that, in his mind, seemed so ridiculous. “Whatever,” he grunted. He’d just about given up trying to figure out what Tess was thinking lately.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Maybe it’s not a big deal.” Maria opened the dishwasher and started to unload it, trying to be optimistic. “She’s been talking about closing the studio down since November.”

“Well, she wasn’t talking to me,” Kyle said, sounding slightly offended that she hadn’t discussed such an important thing with him.

“She was thinking about doing the stay-at-home-mom thing,” Maria explained.

“Well, now she says she doesn’t even want kids, so why would she close down?”

“Maybe she just needs a change.”

“Wasn’t that what the hair-dying was for?”

Maria closed the dishwasher, flapping her arms against her sides helplessly. “I don’t know. I can’t figure her out right now. I’ve got a lot on my mind. But one thing I do know is that she still wants kids. She just won’t admit it.”

“I hope so,” Kyle said, “‘cause I want kids someday.”

The tables sure have turned, Maria thought. If Tess didn’t snap out of her funk soon, Kyle was going to be the one pushing a family on her.

“So you told anyone else about numero tres yet?” Kyle asked, changing the subject.

She unconsciously held one hand over her stomach and opened up the cereal cabinet, debating Frosted Flakes or Lucky Charms. “My mom kinda found out on her own. She told Ed, but they know to keep it a secret.”

“Is your mom capable of keeping a secret?” Kyle asked doubtfully.

“Hopefully, because I don’t want Michael finding out from her.”

He nodded in agreement. “What about Tess?”

She took the Lucky Charms out of the cabinet, deciding that she could use a little luck these next few days. “Should I try to tell her today? I mean, I got her to agree to go shopping with me, so maybe . . .”

“Yeah, yeah, tell her today,” Kyle urged. “It might help her be less depressed.”

Or it might make her more depressed, Maria thought, really hoping that wouldn’t be the case.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

( )

Max got the strangest call that morning. It was from Tess. She woke him up with that call, left him a voicemail telling him to stop by her design studio around noon so that she could give him something. His mind immediately went to perverted places. Blow job? Yeah, right. Tess had made it clear that she tolerated him but in no way liked having him around, let alone having him in her mouth.

“You called?” he said as he rounded her doorway. When he glanced inside, all he saw was dark hair at Liz’s desk. Liz? When she looked up, though, it wasn’t Liz. It was Tess. Tess with dark hair. “Whoa,” he said, stumbling backwards slightly. “What happened to you?”

She got up, carrying a cardboard box. “Here’s Liz’s stuff,” she said, handing it to him.

“Fantastic. What’s with your hair?”

She still didn’t answer him. “I’m closing down the studio,” she said, sounding unemotional about it, “so I’ve gotta clear everything out. Liz left some stuff here. You should have it.”

He stared at her, not even bothering to look at what was in the box. He’d do that when he got home. “You looked hotter as a blonde,” he informed his ex.

She sat down at her desk, then stood back up again. “God, that’s all you care about, isn’t it? How hot someone is. Who cares what color my hair is? I’m a person; I have feelings. I feel sadness, I feel pain, I feel fear . . .”

“Fear?” He set the box down on the floor and walked towards her. “What happened to you?”

She looked away.

“Tess . . .” He tried to place one hand on her shoulder, but she jerked away from him, screaming, “Don’t touch me! You’re a rapist!”

He held his hands up in front of himself, backing away from her. Her eyes were blazing with all that sadness, pain, and fear she’d just been ranting about. She reached into her purse and gripped what looked like the cool metal of a gun. A gun? Suddenly the black hair didn’t seem quite as shocking.

Max picked up the box of Liz’s things and headed out. He had a feeling he knew what had happened to Tess, but since she wasn’t saying anything, he wouldn’t say anything, either.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After stopping at Tess’s studio, Max stopped at the cemetery He left Liz’s box on the passenger’s seat and got out of the car, walking towards his father’s grave. Most of the headstones were decorated for Christmas. Not his dad’s, though. No one cared about Phillip Evans now that he was six feet under.

He stared at the picture of his father on the gravestone, remembering a time when he’d looked in his father’s eyes with awe and admiration and when his father had looked back at him as though he’d known what he would grow up to become.

****

“Dad, do you love Mom?”

“Not really. Never get married, son. Women are better things than wives.”

Maybe he was too young to understand, but girls seemed like people, too. The girls in his kindergarten class were smart and nice to him. “When I get married, I’ll love my wife,” he vowed, “and she’ll love me, too.”

His father laughed. “That’s what you think now.”

****

Max shut his eyes, Tess’s shrill and terrified voice echoing through his mind. ‘Don’t touch me! You’re a rapist!’

Whose fault was that?

‘You’re a rapist!’

There was a shovel lying next to an open grave. Max marched over to it and picked it up.

‘Don’t touch me!’

He stormed back to his father’s grave and swung the shovel, slamming it squarely against his father’s face. He hated that face. He hated that man. He hated that they had so much in common. He’d never wanted to hurt anyone. He’d never wanted to be a monster. He could have been a good person. Maybe. He’d never had the chance. It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair.

He kept swinging at the headstone. It was going to be decorated differently than all the others. It was going to be scratched and marred. He only wished he had the strength to tear the whole thing apart with his own two hands and feel it crumble between his fingers.

The shovel flew from his hands and landed on the ground, and he sank down onto his knees, gasping for air. He wanted to be a different person, but he would always be Phillip Evans’s son. Maybe that was the real reason why Liz had left him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So you really closed up the studio, huh?” Maria twirled her shopping bag around her fingers as she and Tess rode down the escalator. She wasn’t sure what to think about the news that Valenti Designs was no longer in business. On the one hand, the studio had never really gotten off the ground; on the other hand, now Tess was going to have a lot more time on her hands, time that would probably be spent sulking.

“Yeah, I just have to hire some movers to get the furniture out. Unless we can get Michael and Kyle to do it tomorrow.”

Maria shook her head. Christmas Eve. Lots to be done, especially for Michael, whom she’d charged with wrapping all the remaining unwrapped presents for the girls.

“Okay, movers then,” Tess decided. “And I have to sign over my lease on the place.”

“And find another job,” Maria pointed out.

“That, too.” Tess stepped off the escalator and turned towards the right. “Maybe Aeropostal’s hiring . . .”

Maria grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her to the left instead. “Try Victoria’s Secret,” she suggested. “Way sexier.” If Tess was going to work retail and reap the retail benefits of discounted clothes, why not work at the store where the clothes were the sexiest and most sought after?

“I don’t care about being sexy anymore,” Tess muttered, walking along nonetheless. “Hey, I got Miley a dollhouse for Christmas. Is she gonna like it?”

Maria froze, panicked. “Wait, you got her a dollhouse? Michael and I got her a dollhouse.”

“Mine’s pink on the outside and has an attachable garage.”

“Good, ours is blue, no garage. She can just have two dollhouses, I guess.” She shrugged. That would work. Miley had enough dolls to fill five dollhouses. “What’d you get Kyle?”

“I haven’t gotten him anything yet,” Tess admitted, veering towards a men’s clothing store. “Maybe I could get him a shirt.”

Maria once again grabbed her friend’s arm and stopped her. “After everything you two have been through these past few months, you’re gonna get him a shirt?” she said, sensing badness. “I don’t think so.” They could make a stop at Radioshack and get him something electronic. A woman could never go wrong getting electronics for her man.

“I got your present in July,” Tess said. “Actually, I made it.”

“Don’t tell me any more.” Maria pressed her hands over her ears. “I wanna be surprised.” Her stomach churned with nervousness as she sensed a segue into the reason why she had really invited Tess to go shopping. She had to tell her what was going on eventually, and now seemed like as good a time as any. “Hey, speaking of surprises . . . can I talk to you about something?”

Tess groaned. “Maria, I’m just depressed. I don’t feel like talking about it.”

“No, I’m talking about me.” She placed one hand atop her stomach. “Come on, let’s sit down.”

Tess followed her over to the mall recliners, the kind that cost one dollar to operate. Maria stuck a dollar worth of quarters into two of them, and they started to vibrate.

“What’s going on?” Tess asked, placing her shopping bags down by her feet.

Maria bit her bottom lip, hesitating. “I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Because . . .” The words rose from the pit of her stomach to the tip of her tongue, and she blurted it out before she chickened out. “I’m pregnant.”

At first, Tess looked stunned. She didn’t say anything, and Maria thought for sure she was furious. But when she finally did manage to say, “Oh my god,” she didn’t sound furious. She sounded . . . Maria wasn’t sure how she sounded.

“Yeah. Crazy, huh?”

“A little.” Tess managed to smile. “Wow, Maria . . . congratulations.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No, I would never . . .” She blinked back tears.

“I just didn’t know how you’d react, because I know you’ve wanted this for yourself for such a long time.”

“No, I don’t want a baby anymore,” Tess said quickly, almost as if she’d rehearsed the answer.

“Tess . . .”

“I really don’t. Doesn’t mean I don’t want more for you. You and Michael are great parents. This kid’s so lucky.”

“You think?”

“Yeah.” Tess’s smile became more genuine, and she took on a tone of excitement. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“Well, I’m about due for a boy, aren’t I?” She usually had a pretty good feeling about these things. She’d successfully predicted that both Miley and Macy would be girls.

“How far along are you?”

“Dr. Walters estimated about five weeks.”

“I love Dr. Walters.”

“Me, too. He was really happy for me.” Everyone was really happy for her.

“This is amazing,” Tess said. “Who else knows? Did you tell me last because you were afraid to?”

“No,” Maria replied. “First I told Marty, and then I told Kyle, but I made him promise to keep it a secret, so that’s why he didn’t tell you. And then my mom kinda found out on her own and told your dad, and now I’m telling you.”

Tess frowned in confusion. “Well, that’s everybody, isn’t it?”

Maria fell silent.

“Oh,” Tess said, suddenly getting it. “Oh. Why not?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, wishing she could put her reluctance into words. “I think I’m gonna tell him tomorrow night, though.”

“Christmas Eve.”

“Yeah. Do you think he’s gonna be mad I didn’t tell him right away?”

“No.”

“Okay, good.”

“Although . . .” Tess trailed off.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just . . . I bought Michael neon green condoms for Christmas. Now I’m gonna have to get another present.”

Maria laughed and hugged her friend, so glad that this had gone better than she’d expected. “I missed this,” she said, feeling for the first time in awhile that her best friend was back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So you told her and she was okay with it?”

“Yeah.” Maria rifled through her recipe box, trying like mad to find her mother’s ham recipe. She hadn’t cooked ham enough to know how to do it without a recipe in front of her yet. If she couldn’t find it, she was going to need to get on the phone with her mom and jot it down.

“She was seriously okay?” Kyle asked again as though he couldn’t believe it.

“Well, I mean, I’m sure she was a little, you know, envious or whatever, but she tried not to show it. She almost seemed like her old self again.”

“Almost?”

Maria closed her recipe box and opened up her junk drawer, praying that she’d find it in there. “When I told her I was pregnant with Macy, she squealed and jumped up and down and did her happy dance.”

“I miss her happy dance.”

“This was more subdued, but keep in mind, we were in the middle of the mall.” She found the recipe crumpled up beneath a pile of pot-holders, took it out, and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well, I guess we have to give her time,” Kyle said, leaning against the counter. “But it’s a step in the right direction, so I’ll take it.”

She clasped one hand over her mouth as a sudden wave of nausea hit.

“What?” Kyle asked, backing away.

And just as suddenly as it hit, it passed. “Nothing.”

“Are you gonna puke?”

“Maybe. No. God, this sucks.” How was she going to make it through Christmas? There were so many smells to be smelled at Christmastime. She was going to get sick.

“Are you gonna be able to do this dinner?” he asked as if reading her mind.

“Yes,” she insisted, hoping to convince herself. “I’m pregnant, not incapacitated.” She was just going to have to tough it out. Michael came downstairs, and she plastered on a big smile and greeted him. “Hey.” Hopefully he hadn’t overheard any of their conversation.

“Hey,” he said, reaching over her to take a box of cereal out of the cabinet so that he could munch on dry Cheerios. “What’re you guys talkin’ about?”

“Oh, you know, your ki . . .” Kyle caught himself before saying ‘kid.’ “Kindness towards the family this holiday season,” he said awkwardly. “No, I’m just kidding. We’re talking about Sex and the City.”

Michael glanced between the two of them, clearly perplexed, but headed back upstairs without another word.

Maria groaned once he was gone and a wacked Kyle upside the head. “Sex and the City? You might as well have stamped ‘knocked up’ on my forehead.”

“No, he knows I’m a fan. He won’t suspect anything,” Kyle assured her. “Although you could tell him now, right? Telling Tess was the hardest, so just go for it.”

“I’m telling him tomorrow night. I swear to God, if you say anything before I get the chance to tell him myself . . .” She gave him a warning glare.

“No, I won’t let anything slip,” he promised. “In fact, just to be safe, I won’t even talk to him.”

“Good idea.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Max remembered reading somewhere that social work was the worst-paying college degree a person could get. When he went to visit Tiffany’s social worker, he believed it. She was crammed into an 18x12 room with three other social workers. Their desks were all touching each other, papers overlapping, computer cords tangling. It looked like a miserable working environment, and they all looked stressed out.

Tiffany’s social worker’s name was Daphne. He recalled hearing her mention Daphne by name once or twice, and it was an unusual enough name for him to remember. She would have been quite the attractive brunette had she not been so pear-shaped. She carried all her weight in her thighs and hips, and Max liked his women slimmer.

“Excuse me?” he said, casting a shadow over her desk. “Are you Tiffany’s social worker?”

Daphne glanced up at him, pausing in the midst of dialing a number on her phone. “I was, before she moved away,” she replied. “Why? Can I help you with something?”

“Yeah, I think so. See, I’m her friend.”

Daphne raised a questioning eyebrow.

“No, it’s nothing creepy,” he assured her. “I just wanna send her a Christmas card, but I don’t know her address.” He held up the card he’d bought for her. It had a picture of Rudolph on the front and said ‘Have a bright and shiny holiday’ on the inside. He’d jotted down a little note saying he hoped she was doing good in Colorado and signed his name. Nothing much, but it was something.

“I see,” Daphne said slowly. “Mr. . . .”

“Evans. Max Evans.” He held his hand out in greeting.

“Mr. Evans.” She shook his hand hesitantly. “I’m sorry, I’d like to help you, but I can’t give out her address to anyone who’s not a family member.”

“But she doesn’t have any family. That’s why she’s in foster care.” He held up the card again, feeling the familiar feeling of helplessness settling in and taking over. “Please,” he begged, “I just wanna send her a Christmas card.”

She shook her head firmly, yet there was a sliver of sympathy in her eyes.

Max sighed in frustration and tossed the card into the trashcan next to her desk. What was the point? Tiffany probably didn’t even want a Christmas card from him. She had a new life now, and he was stuck with the same old one.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael strolled into the kitchen on Christmas Eve morning, not at all surprised to find Maria hard at work. She’d barely left the kitchen ever since she’d taken the last of her final exams. She was making enough food to feed an army, though she never seemed to believe she was making enough.

“Don’t you think you’re putting a little too much work into this dinner?” he asked, leaning against the counter.

“It takes a lot of hard work to put together a dinner that goes off without a hitch,” she said, furiously stirring a batch of fudge brownies. “Except they never do, do they?”

“What?”

“Go off without a hitch. Nothing ever goes exactly the way it’s supposed to; nothing ever goes according to plan.”

“What’re you talking about? Thanksgiving was great,” he reminded her.

“Right, except we had to eat in the living room because we ran out of room at the kitchen table.”

“I thought that was fun,” he said. “So did everyone else.”

She sighed, clearly exhausted, and wiped her forehead off with the back of her hand. “Oh, that reminds me, you still have to get that-that card table thing up from downstairs so we can use it as the kids’ table.”

“Who else is gonna sit at the kids’ table besides our kids?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Kyle, maybe. Oh, and you still have to wrap those presents.”

“Did that yesterday,” he proclaimed proudly. It had taken him awhile, a lot longer than last year since this was Macy’s first Christmas and they had a tone of gifts for her.

“No, there’s more,” she informed him.

“For Miley and Macy?”

“Frank and George.”

He gave her an incredulous look. Did the dogs really need presents? Frank already had his own stocking. Wasn’t that enough?

“Oh, you know how Frank likes to open his own gifts,” she said, “and I’m sure George is the same way.”

Although he thought the fact that his dog and Tess and Kyle’s dog were going to get more presents than most humans was a bit ridiculous, he wasn’t about to fight her on it. “Okay, so I have to wrap those and bring the card table upstairs. What else?”

“I think that’s it.” But of course that wasn’t it. “Oh, the stockings. Hang ‘em from the fireplace. Use tacks, though, not nails.”

“Got it,” he said obediently. “Anything else?” He wanted to do whatever he could to help out and de-stressify her.

“Just cook the ham for me tomorrow,” she said. “I hate messing with meat.”

He gave her a gutter-head look and chuckled.

“Ha, ha,” she said, finally cracking a smile. There was his girl.

“Come here.” He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her against him tightly. “Christmas doesn’t have to be some big chore, you know. You used to love it.”

“I still love it,” she insisted. “I’m just stressed.”

“About Christmas.”

“Yeah, among other things.”

He wanted to ask her what those things were, but she spun around and kept talking before he had the chance.

“Do me a favor? Let’s promise to have a relaxing, private night together tonight, okay? My mom’s gonna be staying with Marty, and your parents aren’t gonna be in ‘til tomorrow morning, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I get the fun job of picking them up at the airport at 5:00 a.m.”

“Okay, so tonight . . .” She rested her hands against his chest, gazing up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “Just you and me?”

“You and me,” he promised, bending down to kiss her atop her head. He was going to make sure that, tonight, she didn’t have a care in the world.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Isabel waited out in the hallway for Alex while he put Garret to bed that night. She’d dealt with trying to get Garret to fall asleep on Christmas Eve last year, and it had been nearly an impossible task. Alex’s turn.

“He didn’t wanna go to sleep,” Alex said quietly as he shut the door to the bedroom. “Takes after me. I was always too excited to fall asleep on Christmas Eve, too.”

The thought of Garret taking after his father in any way whatsoever made bile rise up in Isabel’s throat. “Most people are,” she pointed out swiftly.

He took his hands in hers and pulled her closer to him. “So I guess we’ve got the rest of the night to ourselves.”

“I guess so.”

He grinned, moving her hand strategically lower to cup his crotch. It wasn’t any surprise to either of them that they were in the bedroom ten minutes later, completely unclothed and tangled beneath the sheets. He came. She faked it.

He hovered above her after he was done, beads of sweat dripping down the sides of his face, his breath coming in heavy, ragged pants. He was completely focused on her, even post-orgasm. She could tell by that awestruck look in his eyes that he was going to say something stupid, and moments later, he did.

“I love you.”

Of course he did. He’d never stopped, even when he should have. There wasn’t a chance in hell she was about to say it back, though, so she just wrapped her arms around him, urging him to lie down. He rested his head on her chest, using her breasts as a pillow, and she stroked the back of his neck with her hands. When he didn’t drink, it was easier not to hate him. But love wasn’t possible. Not with him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

That evening after putting the girls to bed, Maria and Michael went back downstairs to set up all the presents for Christmas morning. There were a ton of them, and they both knew there would be even more once the family got there. The grandparents were bringing presents with them, and Marty and Tess and Kyle would bring some, too. Their living room was going to be packed.

( )

After they’d finished with the gifts, they lit a fire and curled up with each other on the floor, right next to the tree. They got to work eating the cookies and milk Miley had set out for Santa, as well as the carrots she’d set out for the reindeer. They couldn’t throw anything away in case Miley decided to check the trash for the remnants. Even at her age, she was smart enough to think of such a thing, and then the myth of Santa would be ruined for her forever. Couldn’t have that.

“I’m so full,” Michael groaned, pressing one hand to his stomach.

“Really? I could eat five more of these.” She bit into another of twenty cookies, thoroughly enjoying the sugary goodness.

“Have at ‘em,” he said, passing the plate to her.

“Why’d she set out so many?” she asked between chews.

He chuckled. “She wants to make sure Santa gets her good presents, so she’s bribing him.”

“Crafty. I think she’ll like all her presents, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Frank, come here.” He motioned the dog over towards them, but Frank took only a few wobbly steps, then tipped over on his side and just lay there. He’d eaten at least eight cookies all by himself and was clearly feeling the effects.

“Wow, even the dog’s stuffed,” Michael said. “How the hell are you still chowing down, babe?”

She momentarily considered saying, I’m eating for two again, but decided against it. “I’m hungry.”

“I guess.”

She wiped the cookie crumbs from her mouth and reached for another one, probably her seventh. “Hey, thanks for all you did today with the presents and the stockings and the table and stuff.”

He wrapped his arm tighter around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. “Thanks for taking on the brunt of the work for this Christmas dinner.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“Sure it is. You’re amazing.” He gazed down at her, smiling. “So talented and beautiful and . . . sexual.”

“Sexual?” Her eyebrows shot up, and she wondered if he was hinting at something. She saw her opportunity for a segue to a more serious topic of conversation, though, and she had to take it. “Hey, speaking of sex . . .” She trailed off and set the cookie plate aside.

“Wanna do it?”

She turned to face him, draping one of her legs over both of his. “No, seriously speaking of sex . . . there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Okay.”

This is it, she thought. I’m gonna do it. She wished she could just blurt it out, but she needed a minute to build up the courage, so she started to ramble. “Uh, you know, four years ago, when I found out I was pregnant with Miley, our lives changed forever. And I’m glad they did, but at the time, it was really scary. But it all worked out for us. And then when we had Macy, our lives changed again. And it was kinda scary again, but it still worked out. And I’m glad, because now . . .” She trailed off when she noticed the distracted look in his eyes. He was glancing out the window at something, not paying full attention to her. “What?” she asked. Couldn’t he just focus?

“It’s snowing,” he said, slowly untangling himself from her, rising to his feet. “Wow, I can’t believe it’s actually snowing. When was the last time it snowed? Two years ago? Three?”

“Uh . . .” She couldn’t even put a sentence together. This had been her perfect moment to tell him, and it was slipping through her grasp.

“And on Christmas Eve? That’s awesome.” He went over to the door and shoved his shoes on. “Come on.”

She propped herself up on her forearms, still practically glued to the floor. “What?” Why were they talking about snow when they were supposed to be talking about the new baby they were having?

“Let’s go outside,” he said, his eyes wide and gleaming with excitement.

“Michael, I don’t even have a coat.”

“So? I’ll keep you warm,” he promised. “Come on, how often does it snow here? We have to enjoy it.”

“We can enjoy it from in here.” Normally she’d feel a little more playful, but right now of all times . . .

“Come on, Maria.” He opened the door and ran out into the front yard, not leaving her much choice.

She got up and got her shoes on, joining him outside. There was already a light blanket of white on the ground, reflecting the glow of the moon.

“It’s freezing out here!” she yelped just as he threw a snowball at her. “Michael!”

He laughed, packing together another one.

“Oh, it’s on, buddy!” She put together a snowball of her own, tossing it straight at his face. He ducked, and it missed him.

“That all you got?” he teased, throwing his much larger snowball at her. She twisted to the side, trying to run away, but it hit her hip.

“Michael!”

Like two little kids, they played in the snow for the next ten minutes, neither one caring how cold they got or how many snowballs they got pelted with. She scooped up a pile of snow and blew it in his face, and he sprinkled some down over her head. They were like human snowflakes, light and carefree.

He picked her up and spun her around, nearly dropping her because of the slick snow. She held onto him tightly, resting her weight against him, laughing uncontrollably as the snow fell down around them. This was great. She felt younger than she had in years.

He brushed a snowflake off the tip of her nose, then bent down and kissed her, freezing lips against freezing lips, warming up. She felt as though they were in a human igloo, even though that much snow would never fall. Was it just the two of them in the world? It sure seemed like it, and she liked it that way.

“What did you wanna talk about?” he murmured against her lips, his breath showing in the cold air.

“It can wait,” she decided. All she wanted to do was kiss him again and stay young and carefree. At least for one night. So that was exactly what she did.









TBC . . .

-April

Okay, so my goal for the weekend is to get caught up on fics! I've fallen shamefully behind. I think I'll have some time this weekend, though. Looking forward to it.

Anyway . . .

Ellie:

Gah! Right now, Maria's frustrating me to no end!

Of course. We all know that frustration is a recurring theme in my fics.

Max and Isabel both know that Tess was raped. Oh vey ... two of the worst people in the world to have that knowledge.

Yeah, because Isabel won't do anything about it since Billy was the rapist, and Max . . . even though he might feel bad for her on some level, he won't say anything, either. And maybe it's not his place to say anything. Or maybe he should. I don't know.

Novy:

Oh Alex, I shouldn't be surprised. Taking poor Garret to a porn shop though, not good.

Yeah, he's got limited parenting skills.

I think it's good Tess is selling that place. She's just torturing herself going there every day but I wish she would find something productive to do so she doesn't do something stupid.

Yeah, selling the place may be the right thing to do, but selling the place and wallowing in depression rather than doing something productive . . . probably not a good idea.

I hope Tess is right and Michael won't get mad that he's the last to know.

He'll be thrilled he's going to be a father again, so I don't know if I could see him getting really mad. He might wonder why he was the last to know, though.

BB:

Why, oh why is it that the two people who know what happened to Tess are Max and Isabel? However, I feel a little happier now that Max knows because unlike his sister Max has a working conscience and he even uses it sometimes. So, there's a chance that he might decide to use it again. Especially if he ever gives being a good guy another guy, with no Liz or Tiffany to fixate on, he might make Tess his project.

It's possible. If Max decides the situation with Tess gets bad enough, he might decide to intervene. But Max is in a really pathetic place in his life right now, too, and I don't know if he's in any shape to help anyone.

I'm glad that Tess was able to be happy for Maria. It's good to know that the old Tess is still in there under all the hurt and fear and anger. I hope we get to see her again.

Yep, she's still there. Just . . . buried deep down right now.

Neve:

Max knows. Why is it that Max can figure things out but nobody who should can? It seems kind of obvious that there's something seriously wrong.

Sometimes people on the outside see more, I guess. Plus, he'd be the expert on rape, unfortunately.

How quickly Isabel forgets. Didn't Alex knock up another girl quite recently?

Yep! I think she's blocked that out because she's probably still pissed about it. And maybe even a little jealous.


Thank you for the feedback! I really appreciate it.








Part 79








“Merry Christmas, everyone!”

Maria yawned, wishing she had half the energy her mother had this morning. Christmas morning was great and she loved it as much as the next person, but . . . Michael had kept her up late last night.

“Oh, Maria, my beautiful baby girl, come here!” Amy hugged her so hard that Maria almost toppled over. “You are glowing!”

Maria smiled nervously as the rest of the family followed Amy in. “I haven’t told him yet,” she mumbled embarrassedly.

“What?” Amy shrieked a bit too loudly.

“Please don’t say anything.” She knew her mother was disappointed, but it wasn’t her place to tell.

“Oh, uh . . .” Amy tried to act casual as she moved on to her future son-in-law. “Michael. Come here.”

“Good to see you again, Amy,” he said, hugging her.

“Good to see you,” she returned, adjusting the maroon scarf wrapped around her head. Apparently her hair hadn’t grown back to her satisfaction just yet, but Maria was encouraged to see some peeking out from beneath the scarf’s edges.

“And how are the two cutest little girls in the world?” she cooed when her granddaughters came up to greet her, hand-in-hand.

“Grandma, I’m not little. Macy’s little,” Miley said matter-of-factly.

Amy laughed and bent down to embrace them. “Oh, that’s right. How silly of me to forget.”

Maria said hi to Michael’s parents, then stood back and watched while he welcomed them in and out of the snow. Seeing Michael interact with his father, it all became so clear where his own daddy skills came from. They were so much alike.

Tess said hello to her father as well, but that carefree, giddy, little girlish-ness she used to have around him was nowhere in sight. “Hi, Daddy,” she said, hugging him.

“Hi, sweetie,” he returned, smiling weakly. “Your hair’s still dark.”

She looked down at her feet and nodded. “Yeah.”

Dammit, Maria thought, watching the interaction. She’d been hoping that Christmas would bring out the old Tess, the one they all knew and loved so much. But apparently not. At least she wasn’t totally sucking the energy out of the room, though. It was an improvement.

“Hey,” Kyle said quietly, pulling Maria aside, “you didn’t tell him?”

She groaned. “No.”

“Why not?”

Marty joined them, keeping his voice hushed as well. “Yeah, I thought you were going to.”

“I got distracted.”

“With what?” Kyle asked.

She folded her arms across her chest and looked down at her feet, knowing her silence would say a lot.

“Oh, you sex addict,” Kyle teased, shaking his head laughingly before rejoining the larger group.

Before Marty could walk away, Maria grabbed his hand and asked, “You don’t think Mom’s gonna say anything, do you?”

“No,” Marty said, sounding unsure. “Not on purpose.”

An hour later, all eleven of them sat in the living room surrounded by mountains of shredded wrapping paper, bows, ribbons, and gifts, most still unopened. They’d woken up so early because they all knew it was going to take at least until noon to get through all the presents. Unless they all tore into their gifts at the same time and didn’t go one-at-a-time. But Maria liked going one-at-a-time. It was tradition. Besides, she liked to gauge people’s reactions to the gifts she gave them. Having to fake happy reactions when she opened up presents she wasn’t particularly pleased with, on the other hand . . . that wasn’t something she enjoyed doing, but she did it to the best of her ability.

Her fourth present that morning was from her mother. She opened it excitedly, because all unopened presents were exciting, and when she saw a box from Younkers, she squealed with delight. When she pulled out the item inside, however, it was . . . less delightful.

“Clothing,” she remarked, staring at the loose-fitting, baggy monstrosity her mother was crazy enough to think she’d actually wear.

“Mmm-hmm,” Amy said, smiling.

“It’s kinda . . . big.” And that was just about the nicest word she could use to describe it.

“Well, I got it from the maternity section,” she revealed.

Maria’s eyes bulged in horror. Was this it? Was her secret finally, totally, and completely out? She looked at Michael for any indication, but he was mostly still absorbed in the new Blu-ray DVD player his parents had gotten him.

“You know, just in case,” Amy added quietly, laughing nervously.

“Miley needs to open another present,” Maria decided quickly, before Michael decided to catch on.

“Yes, yes, she does,” Kyle agreed readily, crawling on his hands and knees as he searched underneath the tree for one. It didn’t take him too long. Over half the presents scattered throughout the living room were for the kids. “Here you go, Miles,” he said, handing her a medium-sized box wrapped in snowman paper. “This one’s from me.”

Miley took it from him and immediately started tearing into it, but when Michael tapped her on her shoulder, she remembered her manners and said, “Thanks, Uncle Kyle.”

“Thanks? You gotta open it first,” he urged. “Go on.”

As Miley struggled to open the package, Maria muttered, “God, Kyle, did you use enough tape?”

“We gotta speed this up if we’re ever gonna get to the grub,” Michael leaned over and whispered. “I’m starving.”

“I know.” Miley had insisted on opening her own presents, though, and that slowed things down. Sylvia was by far the slowest, though, because she wanted to make sure everyone saved the wrapping paper to use again next year.

“Kyle, open that present in the corner while we’re waiting on Miley,” Maria instructed. “It’s from me and Michael. And Frank.”

“Such a good dog.” Kyle sat down next to his largest gift and tore into it.

“Wait, now, save the paper,” Sylvia told him.

“Mom . . .” Michael shook his head, and Maria had to agree. Who saved wrapping paper? Was that an old person thing?

Kyle’s eyes widened in amazement when he saw the box. “Whoa. Guys. Oh my god. No way.” He kept looking from the box back at Michael and Maria. “No way! This is . . . I’m speechless.”

“Yet he’s still talking,” Maria remarked.

“This is a thing of beauty. I don’t even know what to say.” He hugged the sizeable box, clearly overjoyed. “Thank you so much.”

“Is that a Wii?” Tess inquired from the couch.

Maria nodded. He’d been wanting one for almost as long as she could remember.

“What’s a Wii?” Amy asked.

“Oh, Amy, we need to educate you,” Kyle said, already opening the box to peer inside. “It’s only the greatest ever technological advance known to mankind.”

Maria rolled her eyes, unable to help but smile. Kyle was such a big kid, and she was glad he loved the present so much. They’d spent good money on it.

“Cool, Uncle Kyle!” Miley exclaimed, finally having gotten her present open. “Thanks!” She held up a box with two mermaid Barbies inside. One was black and one was white—how P.C. They were both dressed like sluts, though.

“Yeah, you like ‘em?” Kyle asked, half his attention still focused on his own present.

She nodded vigorously. “Uh-huh. Will you play with me?”

“Only if you play Wii with me. Deal?” They shook hands on it. “Alright. Michael, come on, let’s go hook this thing up right in the middle of my living room!”

“Uh, I think your wife—aka: the partner in your marriage with actual decorative taste—might have some objections to that,” Maria said.

“You could probably turn the nursery into some kind of game room since we don’t . . . need it anymore,” Tess said quietly.

Maria felt the damper being placed on the morning the moment Tess said that, and she wasn’t about to let that happen. “You can hook that up later,” she told the boys. “We have a lot of presents left.”

Another hour went by, and the living room became even more of a disaster area. They could have filled an entire swimming pool with all that wrapping paper, despite Sylvia’s best efforts to salvage it. And the tape . . . God, it was everywhere. It coated all the surfaces, made everything feel sticky.

Michael wasn’t one to show much reaction to his gifts. Maria knew it was all part of his strategy to not let anyone know how much he either liked or disliked his gifts. Once in awhile he got more worked up than he had intended, such as when he received two round-trip plane tickets to Tahiti from his parents—they said it was a possible honeymoon spot—but for the most part, he remained pretty stoic. But even he couldn’t hide his confusion when he opened up Marty’s present. It surprisingly wasn’t perverted this year. It was some kind of . . . big net.

Maybe it was perverted.

“Gee, Marty,” he said. “Thanks.” He stared at it for a moment, held it up for everyone to see, and asked, “What is it?”

“It’s a hammock,” Marty chirped. “I got it at a yard sale. Used, but perfectly good. You see, you two just have these two perfect hammock trees in your backyard, and every time I come over here, I think to myself, ‘Gosh, there should really be a hammock in between those trees. But you’ve never had one. Now you do.”

Michael smiled and laughed a little, still less than enthused. “Oh, I see.”

“Hammocks are great,” Marty went on. “Jimmy and I have one in our bathroom.”

“You and Jimmy moved in together?” Amy shrieked.

“Yes, Mom.”

“Well, when did this happen? And why do you have a hammock in your bathroom?”

He chuckled. “Don’t ask. Anyway, you can cuddle together in it, snuggle up, while away the hours. Or in your case, conceive a fourth kid.”

It took Maria a moment to register his slip of the tongue, but when she did, she shot him an alarmed look.

“Third,” he corrected quickly. “I meant to say third. Bad math skills run in the family.”

Oh my god, Maria thought. First the whole, ‘you’re glowing’ thing, then the maternity shirt, and now this? If they all made it through the day without Michael finding out, she’d die of shock.

“Maybe you and Kyle should go hook up that Wii now,” she suggested. It was probably better to have him out of earshot in case anyone else nearly let the secret slip.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Opening presents wouldn’t take long for Isabel, Alex, Max, and Garret. There weren’t that many of them. Garret wanted to get up at 5:00 in the morning to get started, but that was just way too damn early for Isabel. Besides, if they got up that early, they’d be done before dawn. Isabel made her son stay in his room until 9:00. By 10:00, there were only a few presents left, most of them for Garret. Considering how poor they all were, he’d actually ended up with a nice amount.

“Are there any more for me?” she asked, sipping on her horrible hot cocoa. Alex had made it, but it tasted mostly like hot water.

“Let’s see . . .” Alex got down on his hands and knees and crawled around beneath their pathetic excuse for a tree one of those beat up plastic ones handed down from generation to generation. “No, I don’t think so,” he concluded. “Sorry, I would’ve bought you more, but that perfume cost a lot.”

“That’s okay,” she said, biting back the urge to point out that the perfume he’d gotten her was nothing more than a cheap Chanel knockoff. She cast a sideways glance at her forlorn, lovesick brother and asked, “What’s wrong with you, Max?” as if she didn’t already know.

“Everything,” he muttered, not loud enough for Garret to hear.

“Lighten up,” she urged. “It’s Christmas. ‘Tis the season.”

Max grunted. “For what?”

She shrugged. “Miracles or something.”

“Well, here’s something miraculous.” He held up an envelope. “A present from Liz.”

“That’s not a present; that’s a letter,” Isabel pointed out. “Call me old-fashioned, but I believe that Christmas is about spending money, even if you don’t have money to spend.”

“I thought Christmas was about Jesus,” Garret piped up inquisitively.

Jesus? Isabel thought in astonishment. Who the hell had taught him about Jesus? She sure as hell hadn’t, and she doubted Alex had any religious faith anymore. Maybe Max . . .

No way. Maybe Jesus had come up during a discussion about Satan or something, since that was whom Max so obviously worshipped.

“Garret, open this one,” she said, handing her son another present. He smiled giddily and retreated into the living room corner to open it in secret. That seemed to be a little routine he had developed, opening the presents on his own before showing them to anyone else.

“What’d she write?” Alex asked his brother-in-law.

Max unfolded the letter and read it through a few times. “She wrote about Christmas last year, in Aspen.”

Aspen. Whatever. Isabel rolled her eyes, not sure whether she preferred rich and self-righteous Max or mopey, pathetic Max.

“That was my favorite Christmas,” he went on reminiscently. “I proposed to her there. We were lying under this bearskin rug next to this huge fireplace, and I just pulled out the ring and showed it to her. I didn’t even have to say anything; she knew exactly what was happening. She just kept smiling and laughing and trying to get some words out, but she couldn’t. So when I asked her if that was a yes, she said it was a thousand yeses and that she knew we’d be together forever.” He snorted. “And a year later . . .”

“Boo-hoo,” Isabel muttered, but Alex was a bit more sympathetic.

“She’ll come back,” he assured his former and probably still best friend.

Of that, Isabel had no doubt. Liz would come back, if only because she and Max were doomed to love each other until the misery of it all drove them both to suicide. But why Max would want to take her back . . . now that was the mystery. Maybe it was just because he had no other options.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It didn’t occur to Maria that there was nothing festive or Christmas-y about beef stew until she was actually making it. As she stirred all the ingredients around in the crock pot, she second-guessed her decision to include it in the meal. It seemed so . . . redneck and out of place. Beef stew? As part of a Christmas dinner? Seriously? She was a failure as a hostess.

“Maria, are you sure you don’t need any help in there?” her mother called concernedly from the living room. She and Ed were sitting on the couch with Tess, talking to her about her new dog, and Marty was chatting Michael’s parents’ ears off about Jimmy and their plans to open up a Cowboy Club companion club for lesbians. Michael and Kyle had gone over to Kyle’s house to hook up the Wii, and judging by how long they’d been over there, it wasn’t going so well.

“I’m sure,” Maria told her mother, struggling to lift and move the crock pot.

“Because you seem kind of stressed,” Amy went on, “and you don’t need to be feeling any unnecessary stress right now.”

“I’m fine,” Maria insisted, knowing she wasn’t going to de-stress until the dinner was done. Before she could get another assurance out, she felt the crock pot slip from her grasp. It landed on the floor with a combination clang and thud, and the beef stew came pouring out. All the glazed carrots, the chopped potatoes, and of course, the beef itself.

“Shit,” she swore, wiping the back of her hand against her forehead. She was sweating. It was so damn hot in that kitchen.

Or was she just having a hot flash?

“Here, let me help,” Sylvia said, immediately coming to her aid. She motioned for Amy to stay back, and for that, Maria was grateful. She loved her mom to death, especially considering the near-death ordeal she’d lived through, but with the pregnancy looming overhead this Christmas, she was hovering big-time.

“I really shouldn’t swear in front of Miley,” Maria said regretfully as she tried to pick up the solid parts of the stew in paper towels and toss them into the trash. “She picks up on things so easily.” Although she doubted either of her girls heard her. Macy was asleep on a pile of wrapping paper, and Miley was playing with her toys on the bottom stair.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sylvia said. “Michael used to overhear me swear all the time, and he turned out just fine.”

Maria laughed a little. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before.”

“Crap,” Sylvia muttered. “Now you have. That was a pretty tame one, I guess.”

“Yeah.” Could crap even be considered a swear word anymore? She remembered having to call it the c-word back in elementary school, but now ‘the c-word’ designated . . . something much, much worse.

“This looks really good,” Sylvia said, soaking up some of the stew’s juice with a washcloth. “Or . . . looked, I guess.”

“Thanks.” She didn’t want to dwell on the situation too much. “I’ll have to see if I can pull together the ingredients to make it again.” Maybe she could substitute for the beef with something like . . . hot dog.

“How can I help?” Sylvia asked.

“No, you don’t have to do anything. Just go relax and enjoy yourself.”

“How can I help?” Sylvia asked again, a determined tone to her voice.

Maria realized she wasn’t backing down, and she was oh-so-thankful for a soon-to-be mother-in-law who was supportive rather than critical. “Help me peel potatoes?”

Sylvia nodded and sprang to action right away. The woman could have been a professional potato-peeler. She was way faster than Maria and never once came close to drawing blood from her own finger.

“So, your last semester’s coming up,” she remarked casually. “Student teaching?”

“Yep.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“Oh, it will be.” Running to the bathroom between classes in order to puke out all her insides was going to be a can’t-miss. Just the thought of it made her stomach churn, and she had to hold her hand over her mouth to keep from getting too nauseous. “God.” How was it possible to feel so gross when she hadn’t even eaten anything all day?

“What?” Sylvia asked, setting down her potato-peeler.

“Nothing,” Maria said, trying to quickly brush past it. “So, uh . . .” She gave Michael a little wave when he and Kyle walked back in the door, looking as though they’d just been defeated by the process of assembling the Wii.

“Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Sylvia’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened. “Oh my god,” she said slowly. “Are you pregnant?”

“Shh!” Maria hissed.

“You are!” Sylvia whisper-screamed. “I wasn’t really sure, but . . . ooh, this is so wonderful!” She jumped up and down excitedly and gave Maria a hug. “When?”

“About a month and a half ago.”

“Yeah, now that you mention it, I can see you’re starting to show.”

Maria splayed her hands atop her stomach self-consciously. Already?

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean . . . you look great,” Sylvia assured her. “But there’s definitely something different about you. I couldn’t put my finger on it until now.”

“Yeah, just keep it on the down-low, okay? Michael doesn’t know yet.”

“Why not?”

The most frustrating part of this whole thing was that she couldn’t even offer up a valid reason. “He just doesn’t. Everybody else does.” She cringed. How weird was that? Michael was going to be the last to know. “I’m gonna tell him soon, though.”

“Well, I won’t say anything,” Sylvia promised right away. “Can I tell John, though? Please?”

Maria wasn’t about to deny the woman the right to have an open, honest conversation with her own husband, let alone deny John the fun of celebrating a third grandchild.

Third. Good God.

“Sure,” she said, “but tell him to keep it a secret, too.”

“I will.”

“I just really want Michael to hear it from me.”

“Of course,” Sylvia agreed. “I want him to hear it from you, too. He is going to be so happy. You know, he loves having kids with you. Clearly!” She laughed. “Oh, goodness, Maria. Congratulations.” She gave her a kiss on the cheek, then bounded into the living room to grab her husband’s hand and pull him upstairs to tell him the good news.

“Thanks,” Maria mumbled. Any day now, she was sure to be able to congratulate herself. Until then, she doubted she would be able to tell Michael anything at all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The beef stew was a bust. Actually, it wasn’t anything at all, because Maria wasn’t able to gather up enough of the ingredients after the spill. Probably for the best. It had smelled sort of funky anyway. She ended up asking her mom to whip together her famous twice-baked potatoes instead, which were much better and enjoyed by all.

“Well, Maria, that was one delicious meal,” John said after they were done eating. He’d had at least three of the twice-baked potatoes since Miley hadn’t wanted one.

“Thank you,” she returned. It had all worked out in the end.

“She made enough food to feed a small army,” Michael joked down at the other end of the table.

“Hey, we’ll have leftovers,” she said. “Save room for dessert, though.”

He grinned. “I always do.”

She hoped her mother didn’t catch the perverted gleam in her eyes.

“Dessert?” Kyle echoed, groaning as though he were in pain. He leaned back in his chair, rubbed his stomach, and said, “You could’ve told me that before I ate five slices of ham.”

“Or you could’ve just not eaten five slices of ham,” she pointed out. “Besides, you should’ve known. You bought the fudge.”

Kyle became completely still.

“You did buy the fudge, didn’t you?” She had a bad feeling.

“Maybe.”

“Kyle!”

“What?”

“I give you one simple responsibility, and you can’t even handle that!”

“I’ll go get some.” With effort, he got up from his chair. “You might have to roll me out of here, but . . .”

“Oh, I don’t think you wanna drive on those roads,” Ed cautioned. “It’s pretty slick out there.”

Maria balled her napkin up on her plate and rubbed her forehead, stressed again. “I can’t believe this, Kyle.”

“It’s okay,” Michael jumped in, much calmer than she was. “We’ll just have ice cream.”

“Ice cream for Christmas?”

“Yeah, it’s cold.” He laughed a little. “It’s okay.”

Everyone stared at her as though she were some crazy, pregnant, hormonal maniac. Everyone except for Michael, who had already gotten up to clear the table.

“Maria, why don’t you let me and Sylvia do the dishes?” Amy suggested.

“No, I’ve got it.” Why was everyone trying to baby her just because she was having another baby?

“But--”

“Mom . . .” She didn’t want to get snippy, but she felt like the littlest thing could set her off.

Tess cleared her throat and pushed her chair out from the table. “Hey, Maria, can I borrow you for a minute?” she asked.

“Sure.” She was grateful for the distraction. The two of them went upstairs, and Maria had no doubt that when she came back down, she’d find her mom and Michael’s mom doing the dishes, despite her protests.

“Why does Christmas never go according to plan?” she lamented, flopping down on her bed. Oh, her wonderful bed. She was exhausted. She wanted to crawl into it and hibernate for awhile.

Tess shut the bedroom door. “It’s just fudge, Maria.”

“I guess. But remember the year you found Max cheating on you with Liz in the back of his Mercedes?”

“Yuck. Hard to forget.”

“And the year the tree caught on fire?”

“And the year the blizzard hit.”

“Oh, yeah, that was a fun one.” A person could fill a book with all their Christmas misadventures over the years.

“On the scale of good to bad, a fudge dilemma’s manageable.”

“You’re right.” She knew she’d overreacted about the fudge, and maybe she should have apologized to Kyle . . . but she wouldn’t. He was used to her bitchiness. “I’m just super stressed right now.”

“I noticed. Actually, I think NASA noticed,” Tess joked. She actually joked. That fact alone made Maria feel a whole lot better. She sat up, and her friend sat down beside her.

“Here,” she said, handing Maria a lightweight CD case. “Something to de-stress you. I know I bought you that dress, but this is the less materialistic gift. I made it months ago.”

Maria opened the case and found a silver DVD inside. On it was a printed label that read Two and a Half Decades of Friendship: Tess and Maria.

She smiled at the heartwarming-ness of it all. “For real? You made this?”

Tess nodded proudly.

“That’s so cool. How’d you--”

“This video editing software. I taught myself how to use it. And the Best Buy Geek Squad helped out.”

Maria grabbed her laptop computer off the nightstand and inserted the DVD, waiting for it to play. It was an absolutely adorable composition of herself and Tess through the years, dating all the way back to childhood home videos. They were all curly blonde hair and high-pitched voices back then. No boobs, of course. And baby dolls instead of real babies.

“Wow,” she said. “I love it.” The scene switched to the two younger versions of them playing board games in Tess’s living room, so focused on what they were doing that they didn’t even glance up when Ed hovered above them with the camera and said, “Hi, girls.”

“Oh my god, look at us!” Maria exclaimed. “Look at our hair.”

“The nineties,” Tess said with a shrug.

The scene switched again to a time when they were older, and Maria recognized it immediately. “Oh my god, dance team tryouts! We so should’ve made it. We were good.”

“I think we just danced too slutty for them,” Tess said.

“Yeah, our school was always prude,” Maria agreed, yelping, “Ah, I remember that!” when she scene switched once again to the younger years. She saw herself and Tess as six year-olds, playing upstairs in her bedroom with Barbies much like the ones Miley was playing with now. Except they’d also had an ample supply of Ken dolls, so their Barbies had sex a lot. Amy had caught them on tape making their Barbies have sex.

“So embarrassing,” Tess said, hiding her face as though she couldn’t bear to watch.

“I don’t think I’ve ever lived that down.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Miley tugged on Michael’s shirt sleeve and asked sweetly, “Daddy, can I go play?”

“Sure, honey.”

She bounded off into the living room and grabbed every toy she could, not quite able to settle on one. Michael was astonished that she still had so much energy. She hadn’t napped at all yet today, and it was already 5:30 in the afternoon. “I can’t believe she hasn’t crashed yet,” he said to Kyle when his friend sauntered towards the sink. He handed him the dishtowel, wordlessly communicating that he should take drying duty. Putting Kyle to work was easy. Letting his mother and Amy do dishes when they were guests in his house, though . . . not gonna happen.

“Well, that’s Christmas for you.” Kyle set the dishtowel down on the counter, apparently not getting the point. “It gives kids endless energy. I bet Maria’s gonna crash after we leave, though. I heard she had a busy night.”

Michael grinned, handing him back the towel. “That she did.” He washed off one of the plates and set it down in the right side of the sink. Kyle groaned reluctantly, picked it up, and started drying.

“Dishwasher, man,” he grumbled. “You have a dishwasher.”

“You don’t put the company plates in the dishwasher.”

“The company plates?” Kyle chuckled. “Is that what Maria calls them?”

“What, don’t you have company plates?”

“Uh, we don’t have company,” Kyle pointed out. “We freeload off of you guys when it comes to this holiday stuff.”

“I noticed. Really, man, how could you forget the fudge?” It was a pretty simple responsibility as far as holiday responsibilities went.

“You were supposed to remind me!”

Michael gave him a look. Was that some kind of excuse?

“Okay, it was my own fault,” he admitted. “It’s just . . . hear me out. I was gonna get the fudge, but then I got George instead.”

“You got distracted,” Michael rephrased.

“Yeah. Hey, I’m not the only one who gets distracted.”

Michael scrubbed furiously at the coffee stains on his favorite mug, frowning confusedly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means . . . never mind.”

“Come on, spit it out.” He could tell Kyle wanted to tell him something.

“Everyone gets distracted. You, me . . . Maria.”

“Maria?” What did Maria have to do with this?

“Yeah, like if there was something she was supposed to do and then she started doing something or someone else, she might . . . forget. Maybe on purpose.”

Michael was quickly losing track of the conversation. “What the hell are you . . .” Before he could get the entire question out, though, he caught sight of every parent’s worst nightmare in the living room. Miley was reaching for something in Tess’s purse. Something shiny, black, and metallic, something that looked a lot like . . .

“Miley!”








TBC . . .

-April